Dead Aim

Arapahoe Junction, Colorado October 15 "I know I'm late, dammit." Alex Graham's hand clenched on her cell phone. "I'll get those pictures to you as soon as I can." "You'd get them to me sooner if you'd stop working in the rubble and start taking pictures of those rescue workers whose job it is to do it," Jim Karak said sarcastically. "Old news is no news, Alex. That dam broke almost a week ago and the magazine goes to press in two days." "They're still digging survivors from the landslide caused by the dam break." "Then you should be taking warm, heroic pictures instead of manning a shovel. You're breaking one of the cardinal rules. You're becoming part of the story." "There may be people alive beneath that--" It was no use. Karak had one priority and that was the story. "You'll get the pictures." She hung up and leaned back against the wall and rubbed her temple. God, she was tired. She'd be lucky if Karak didn't call her back and tell her to find another magazine to publish her work. She wasn't being fair and certainly not professional. If she hadn't had a decent track record before this, Karak would have dumped her days ago. "Problems?" Sarah Logan and her dog, Monty, were standing in the doorway of the trailer. "A few." Alex grimaced as she rose to her feet. "It seems I'm not doing my job. I'm not focusing on what's important." "You could have fooled me." Sarah filled Monty's bowl with water and sat down on the floor beside him while he drank. "We found a baby alive in that hellhole this morning. I'd say that was pretty important." "Me too." Alex smiled. "Screw Karak." Sarah didn't return her smile. "I don't want you to lose your job, Alex. I know how much your work means to you. There are other volunteers out there helping to dig." Alex lifted her brows. "Oh, then you have too much help?" "You know there's no such thing in a disaster like this. We have to work fast or-- Okay, we need you. I just don't want you to be hurt. God knows there's enough pain in this world." And Sarah Logan witnessed a good deal of it, Alex thought. She and her golden retriever, Monty, were in a canine search-and-rescue team, and Alex had run across her on half a dozen disaster sites during the last five years. In the horror of natural and man-made tragedies, a strong bond of friendship had been forged. "I'll be okay." "Your editor is right. This isn't your job." She shook her head. "Look at you. You're covered in dirt from head to toe. Your hands are bleeding from that shovel and you haven't slept in twenty-four hours." "Have you?" Sarah ignored the question. "And it's more than your hands that are bleeding. Take a step back, Alex. It will break you if you get too close to it. Believe me, I know." "It's not as though I haven't been to other disaster sites." "But then you weren't as involved. You were taking photographs and helping in the first-aid tent. You weren't uncovering the bodies of people you hoped would be alive." She didn't want to think of those bodies. There had been too many in the last few days. "Yet you do it all the time. You could stay home and live soft and yet, every time there's a call, you and Monty are off and running. I'm surprised your husband doesn't raise hell." "He doesn't like it, but he understands." Sarah frowned. "But we're not talking about me. I've watched you work and there's no one more dedicated. You love what you do and you've told me a dozen times that your job is to tell the story. Don't get sidetracked." "I'm not sidetracked. I'll get it done." She bentJohansen, Iris is the author of 'Dead Aim' with ISBN 9780553802467 and ISBN 0553802461.