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Roy and Johnny hurried over and crouched over a twenty something year old. A young man with their
victim was upset but coherent and he held her hand. "She your girlfriend?" Roy asked him, reading
the red margined triage tag fluttering in the wind on her shoulder.
"Yeah. Her name's Cindy.
Ohmyg*d. Is she gonna be all right?"
Johnny made himself smile once he recognized Dixie's work
of double tourniquets tightly bound above both the girl's knees. "We're here to give her every chance.
Have you had first aid training of any kind?"
"Some. Uh, a few years ago. I'm a boy scout
pack leader."
"Fair enough. My partner's gonna start Cindy on some oxygen. It'll help her get
her breathing under control. That panting's just from some blood loss which we're gonna build up again
by starting a couple of I.V.'s Keep tabs on her pulse and breathing rate, would ya? We're going
to be busy down here for a bit." Gage said, indicating the area of Cindy's badly broken legs.
"Anything I can do.." said the frightened young man.
Marco kneeled on the ground and helped Roy
cut away the woman's shirt sleeve so Roy could get access to her arm for a blood pressure. Johnny
got on the land line.
"Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?"
Joe Early came on the
phone almost immediately. ##Go ahead, 51.##
Johnny skipped preliminary information. "Triage
victim, number sixty three." he read from Dixie's hastily applied tag. "A female approximately twenty
years of age. She's semi conscious due to crushing injuries to both legs. Double tourniquets have
been applied to her mid thighs. Stand by for the vital signs."
Gage buried the phone onto
his neck and glanced over to where he could hear Cap and another paramedic crew working on what sounded
like a steering wheel being bent with a K-12 and chains. He couldn't yet see the car through the throng
of people and rescuers shifting around the silent train through the growing evening fog.
Marco
said, "Johnny, that driver's not bad. We're putting him on a long board just as a precaution. His
leaking gas tank made him something of a priority . I guess a train car clipped him when it jumped
off the tracks."
Johnny nodded as he took the note pad from Roy containing what he had found
on Cindy during his secondary survey.
Marco spoke, shifting his head to the right to where the
many rescuers beyond Rampart's doctor and nurse had not yet reached. "I've got to go. Dixie's
three cars from here, working her way towards the locomotive with Dr. Brackett. They're on the leading
triage tag team."
"Go." Roy told him.
"Wait." Johnny contradicted. Lopez skidded to a
halt. "Just how many cars are on this train?" Gage asked.
"The DOT counted 102 from the air.
The middle section's on fire a half mile from here. Those Amtrak cars impacted a light industrial
propane tank. Most of Los Angeles City's fire departments are handling that. Our units from the suburbs
are on just triage and extrication detail."
Gage nodded, waving him on. "Radio us if you find
another red tagged victim." he shouted. "We'll be done here in five minutes." he said pointing
to the two ambulance attendants waiting next to the Mayfair that was shielding the girl victim from
the milling crowds.
Lopez took off at a run.
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"Well there's a tender mercy. We'll be nowhere near the fire." Johnny said to his partner. Then he
began relaying vital signs to Rampart from what he read off the small pad of paper.
Two large
bore I.V.s later and a neat feat of carefully positioned splinting kept the woman's circulation going
into her feet. Johnny and Roy had to fight instincts to let city paramedics be the girl's main caregivers
to the hospital. A yellow jacketted paramedic from Pasadena said, "We'll take real good care of her.
She's got the first row for a helicopter flight in." And then they were gone in the rig with her,
reds flashing, for the impromptu high school football field landing area.
Roy and Johnny quickly
packed up their gear again and headed north on the strength of Marco's news about Dixie and Kel Brackett's
whereabouts.
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A yellow tagged man with a splinted broken forearm grabbed Roy as they went by. "Please, you gotta
look for my son. He was in car number 49. Please. I can't find him...."
DeSoto set down his
gear and supported him. "Easy, mister. Now where did you come from? You're headed in the wrong direction.
Medical help is that way."
"He slipped away from me.." said Vince Howard, running up to them.
"I got distracted by a couple of red tags. I can tell you more. His son's name is Jeffrey Mathers."
he said taking the father's shoulders. "Come with me, maybe he's at the First Aid Station already.
Let's go look for him. Stop bothering these two gentlemen."
"Please. Firemen. He's about eight
years old, wearing a blue T shirt and y- yellow pants. I just gotta find him.." mumbled the injured
man.
Johnny and Roy watched him get swallowed up by the fog until it seemed that it was only
just the two of them alongside the twisted bulk of the train. DeSoto broke out a flashlight to locate
the search marks crews ahead of them were leaving on the skin of each car to show the ones cleared
of people.
"Sun's going down. It's gonna get cold. Man.. I hope we find everybody in time."
said Gage. "This fog's getting thicker by the minute."
Roy found another rectangular shape
jutting eerily up into the indigo sky. "Car 49. " he read on the side door. "And there's no search
mark yet. Let's check it out."
Roy and Johnny left their gear on the rail road rocks by a lit
cherry flare and together, they pulled open the train car door and went inside.
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Dr. Brackett was a whole train car ahead of Dixie, and he was shouting and calling. "Is anybody
in here? Shout if you can hear me. I'm a doctor from Rampart Emergency!"
Dixie, too, was calling
for anyone to hear, but she started to lag behind the much bigger Kel as she struggled over seats
with her flashlight.
She had just climbed over a tangle of them when a ghostly figure ahead
of her blocked her path. "Bellingham?" she said, stunned, recognizing the off duty paramedic. She
grabbed his arm in the darkness. "Are you ok?" she asked, seeing blood running from his mouth and
the large bruise on his head. She couldn't work it through her head that he was actually a passenger
on the luckless train.
"M-My daughter. S-she was caught under me." said the bloody T-shirted
man. "She.. she was fine a minute ago..."
"Where is she? Easy, Bob. Everything's gonna be ok."
Dixie gasped.
"I'm keeping her...warm..but..." he said numbly, in heavy emotional shock.
Dixie
McCall looked down to find an infant lying limp in his arms, her lips, feet and hands already turning
blue. Dixie snatched the tiny baby's body from him and into her arms and pressed a couple of fingers
against her chilled upper arm. "Kel ! Can you hear me?! I got a pulseless infant back here." she
shouted out loud.
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There was no reply from the way ahead.
"Kel! Answer me!"
Nothing but echoes replied
in the horrible silence of the Amtrak.
Dixie fell into an upright seat and set her flashlight
until it aimed at the metal ceiling, filling her arms with a bright white light so she could see
clearly what she was doing. Right away, she tipped back the baby's head and tried to gently get breaths
inside of the still clammy chest. Nothing went in.
Bob began to sob. "I-- I know about that..
I...can't seem to.......move."
"She's obstructed. I'm going to clear it." Dixie said quietly,
rapidly turning the limp infant over and beginning back blows and chest thrusts. On the third attempt,
Dixie's shaky puffs of air finally got in. "Just sit there and relax, Bob. I'm sure help is on its
way."
The Rampart nurse began the baby's CPR while her shocky paramedic father simply sobbed,
watching them, with tears in his eyes.
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Johnny Gage
startled when the third train door parted under their collective tugs to reveal a conscious victim,
blinking up at them from the murk, under his flashlight. "Blue and yellow he said?"
"Yeah."
Roy replied. "Jeffrey Mathers?"
The boy began to cry from where he lay in the rubble and he stuck
out his arms towards DeSoto, reacting like a frightened boy half his age. "Help me... I can't find
Daddy..."
DeSoto's paternal instincts soared and he reached out, gathering the damp shivering
boy into his arms. "It's ok. Your father's fine. The doctors are taking care of him at a First Aid
Station. How are you doing? Do you hurt anywhere besides that cut on your arm?"
The boy
stayed mute, frozen with fear and he kept his eyes shut tight and his arms locked in a death's grip
around Roy's neck.
Gage ran a flashlight over the boy's head and body. "There's a lot of blood
here, but I don't think much of it is his at all." he said reaching around and taking the boy's carotid.
"Pulse's fast but strong here." He pulled out a green tag and wired it to the front of Jeffrey's
T-shirt with quick notes on the boy's injuries and his name.
"Whose is it?" Roy asked cradling
Jeffrey's head on his shoulder, softly calming the boy. "Shhh.. You're all right. We're going to
someone who can take you to your father right now."
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Jeffrey nestled into Roy's arms a little deeper and he sighed, but his trembling didn't ease.
Gage cast his flashlight around in the fog. It alighted on a young shirtless teenager sitting upright
in the next car with his head thrown back. Johnny hurried over, his mask dangling air bottle clanging
as he crouched down and felt for a pulse at the teenager's pale creamy neckline. He shook his
head and pulled out a penlight, showing Roy the fixed and dilated pupils he knew were there. Sighing
with disappointment, he tipped the teen over, looking for the reason why he died. He found it
when a hole six inches wide became visible in the small of his back. Blood still dripped from the
wound. "Looks like a seat brace or something impaled him through the lower abdomen. It must've drilled
right through his lower aorta."
"Come on." Roy said, making sure the young child's head was turned
away so that he wouldn't see the dead train passenger. "Let's get Jeffrey outside. We can wrap him
in some sheets from the burn kit to deal with this mild shock of his."
Johnny nodded, and
gently returned the teenager's body to the position he originally found it in before he attached a
black edged triage tag to its shoulder.
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---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Marco
Lopez was bounding ahead in the treeline in a short cut back towards the train when he spotted movement
in the brush. A blood spattered woman in navy walked out from under a pine tree. "Hey! Maam.. Are
you ok?"
She gave no sign that she had even heard him.
Marco ran to her side, gripping
her arms, "I'm a fireman. Let's get you out of here to some help."
The woman began to struggle
and flail at him, screaming incoherently and Lopez was forced to protect himself by restraining her
wrists. "Hey, hey hey. It's all right. You're out of the train and you're safe. I got you..." he
told her.
Sobbing, the woman sank to the ground and her head drooped in unrelenting grief.
"He's dead... Ohmygod..." she cried. "They're all dead.."
"Listen to me. You're ok and that's
what's important right now. I'm Marco and I'm with the Los Angeles County Fire Department. Shh,
easy hon. What's your name? Can you tell me that? Once you let me check to see if you're ok, we'll
think about finding your people on the train, all right?" he said, keeping a light arm around her
shoulders. "Come on, can you tell me what it is?"
The woman gave a deep sigh and some of the
dazed look left her eyes. "C--Candace Mallory..I'm from Santa Barbara..." and she started to cry
again actively.
Marco penned down her information onto a green labelled triage tag for he could
see no other injuries past a face cut and some scratches on the woman's arm. "Candace? My neighbor's
named Candace." he smiled.
"Really?" she smiled. Candace felt an itch and reached up to scratch
her face and startled when her hand came away bloody. "Oh, my g*d, I'm bleeding! OH!" she sobbed,
starting to panic again.
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Marco grabbed her hand and covered it with some gauze, wiping it clean. "Candace, you've only got
a small cut on your lip. You're ok, really. See? I'm taking care of it. It'll stop very soon if
you hold this right there. Yeah. Hold that 4X4 over your lip just like that."
"Ooohhh." Candace
sighed, calming down. "What happened to us? One moment we were laughing and the next, the cars were
screeching and...lurching.. " her face grimaced into fresh tears as torturing recollection returned
in snatches..." We crashed, didn't we? What made it happen?"
"I don't know for sure. But I
do know that everyone's getting help as fast as we can get it there. That's why I'm here." he reasoned.
" And I can get some help going for you, too."
The woman smiled, suddenly seeing Marco as the
firefighter he said he was. "You're from the fire department..?"
"That's right."
Candace
suddenly gripped her leg. "Ow.."
"What is it? Your ankle?"
"I-- I think so. Hurts.."
"Here, let me take a look at it." Marco said, gently feeling the joint.
Candace winced slightly
but that was all.
"Not broken. Do you think you can walk on it? I'd like to get you to some
friends of mine down in that neighborhood below us."
Candace immediately panicked. "No! NO! I--
I can't go back down there! It's too dangerous! Crashing! There's so many people .... lying hurt...
or much worse! Please, don't make me go back down there...." she begged.
"Easy, ok. ok. We'll
find a way to go around." said Marco, planning ahead, checking out the terrain around them. He could
just see Cap clearing from the automobile wreck from his vantage point. He pulled out his walkie talkie.
"HT 51 to Engine 51." he hailed.
##Go ahead, Lopez.## came Captain Stanley's reassuring voice.
"I found a walker up here on top of the hill. I'm bringing her down. Green tag."
##10-4.
We'll keep an eye out for ya. Watch yourself in the fog. It's getting pretty thick down here. Engine
51 out.##
Marco shrank down its antennae and started to stuff the HT back into his jacket pocket.
Candace was looking at it with fascination. "You mean, I'm really going to get out of here?" she
said reaching for it.
Marco let her have it. "Yes."
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The shocked woman hung onto the radio tightly as Marco helped her to stand. She wobbled, but then
walked with more assurance faster and faster as she clung to the chattering radio like a life line.
"Come on, let's go this way.." Lopez told her quietly, placing his jacket around her shoulders.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dixie kept on working on the baby. And somehow, she had managed to get through to Bob Bellingham
that Dr. Brackett was on the train with them. Bob's voice rang out louder than Dixie's.
"Dr.
Brackett! Come quick. It's my baby daughter!" he yelled in full emotion. Fear gave him volume that
Kel finally heard from where he was.
Kel Brackett returned back the way he had come. "Bob Bellingham?
Is that you? Where's Dixie?!"
"Over here. Pulseless nonbreather. About twenty weeks old." she
gasped as she worked, her fingers pumping firmly over the baby's breastbone.
"Keep going. Let's
get them both out of here and to a chopper. You ok to continue her CPR?" Kel asked his nurse as he
gave Bob's eyes a quick check where he sat numbly on the floor next to Dixie's passenger seat.
"I'm fine. Just move.." Dixie told him. "Just heard Johnny and Roy in the area. I think they're
right outside!"
Brackett tried to peer out the train windows but fog made it impossible to
see through them. Brackett pulled out a cherry flare, lit it and tossed it outside. Then he took
the whistle from around his neck and blew on it hard, three times in several triple series. "That
should bring em cracking with their full medical gear. Just keep going on her. Her pupils are reacting."
Kel helped Dixie navigate through the darkened car with words while he guided Bob by the shoulders
through the same route.
Then they were outside under the night sky.
Leaping at his communications
pack, Kel Brackett grabbed his walkie talkie the Base Commander from the Fire Department had given
him. "Car 51. Baby down. Full arrest. Get a crew in here for a chopper run, fast!"
Then he
bent to put a nasal cannula on Dixie so that she could give the baby more oxygen with each breath
she delivered by mouth. "Let me know when you get tired. I'm going to go give Bob a once over,
looks like he's going to black out on us."
"I will." she promised.
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---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Cap met
Marco and Candace in a backyard. "I got her Marco. Go north! I just got a call from Stoker and Roy
at Car number 50. They've a woman pinned under some debris and she's gonna need full spinal immobilization.
They've got their hands full keeping her airway clear. Go help them out."
"Right, Cap." and
he dashed off after taking his radio back from Candace.
Cap gently guided the slightly wounded
woman towards the street where the rescue operations were ongoing.
"Wait.. where's he going?!
I need him to help me get out of here!" she said with rising panic. "Please!" she struggled with
Hank, not knowing who he was.
"It's ok. He's one of my men. I'm his captain. I'm taking over for
him. Shh. It's ok. I got you. See? There are ambulances over there. There's no problem. " he promised.
"Just calm yourself down a little. You're ok. You're going to get out of here right now.."
The panic slowly died out of her eyes but hot tears returned. "I am?"
"Yes, right now. Chet!"
Cap said to a running form he recognized in the darkness.
"Cap?"
"I've a walking wounded.
Take her over to the triage line, pal. Go easy with her. She's still a little confused but I don't
think she's hurt seriously. Marco has her green tagged."
"I've got her." said Kelly.
He aimed his flashlight on her triage tag. "Candace Mallory.. Hiya Candace.. My name's Chet. Right
this way and I promise to lead you to some warm blankets and a soft bed. Would you like that?"
he asked.
Like a child, the emotionally traumatized woman nodded yes and let herself be guided.
"After you get her over there head north. Stoker and Roy have a tricky one needing extrication."
Cap ordered.
Chet waved his understanding as he took Candace's uninjured arm.
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********************************************************************************* From: Jeff Seltun
<finiterider@yahoo.com> Date: Tue Sep 14, 2004 7:27 pm Subject: Fast Track..
Johnny
Gage ran from out of the fog heavily laden with medical gear. "Hey! Whoever blew that distress,
give a yell! I'm coming!"
"Johnny?!" Kel Brackett shouted. "It's Brackett! Get over here!
Dixie's got an infant CPR."
Gage ran, shifting his medical gear until the drug box was in his
right hand. He spotted Dixie, sweating and bent over a very young baby in her lap. He slammed down
onto his knees and clattered the drug kit's lid open. "You ok there?" he asked her as she worked.
"How's your O2 supply?" he said seeing the glint of a cannula tubing around Dixie's face.
"It's
fine.. Just hurry.." Dixie puffed. "I'm still not getting a pulse from her."
Kel looked up
from where he was cutting away Bellingham's shirt to look for injuries. Bob was mostly out, and moaning
and there was a fresh pool of vomit near his head. "Glad you're one who heard us, Johnny. Where's
Roy?"
"On an entrapment. Two cars from here." Gage did a double take when he identified the
man on the ground as being Craig Brice's fire paramedic partner. "Bob? I thought he was on vacation..."
Johnny said, digging through the drug box for what he knew Brackett would order for the baby.
Dixie gasped, trying to smile. "So did we.." She shifted her position until the baby lay across Johnny's
splint box, using its hard surface to help her efforts. "Come, on honey.. Breathe." she encouraged
the limp infant under her compressions. "Daddy's really missing you." her voice begged. "And so
am I."
Kel gave Gage the info he needed. "Bellingham's got nothing serious yet. Concussion
maybe. But first things first. Johnny, skip the baby's airway, she's handling fine without one. We
need to bump her heart into course V fib or better and we need to do that right now. Go right to
her .01 mg epinephrine I.V. 1/10,000 into a 10ml Ringer's bolus line, without the bag. Scalp stick
would be best. Follow it up with a two milliequivalent per kilogram of .5 bicarb in a push. Then
take over for Dixie and get that baby onto that chopper ASAP! " he hollered over the roar of the
helicopter landing in the street near their location. "Joe will take her first thing once you
fly in. I just got done talking with him. He's got an endotrach set up and rewarming measures already
waiting with a team. He'll deal with any hypoglycemia once she's intubated."
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"Right, doc." Gage said, biting the plastic off a lactated fluid syringe. He angled his head around
Dixie's and established the l.V. line during one of her ventilation pauses. "Epi's going in..." he
shouted to Kel, grabbing up the baby's arm to feel for a brachial beat. His other hand taped up
the Ringer's catheter port against the baby's temple."Ok, hold it a second, Dix." he nodded and then
he plunged the medication's needle into the injection bulb, depressing the syringe's plunger. "I'm
checking her!" he updated Brackett.
The nurse and paramedic held their breaths as they studied
the infant for any reaction. The baby pinked and twitched. But her chest didn't rise at all. "Got
her back, doc. But still no breathing." Johnny told Kel as Dixie once again took that over. "Bicarb's
next."
"Good enough first step for me. Get that done and I'll be more than happy. Great going,
you two. That's the chance we've been hoping for." Dr. Brackett smiled as he waved over some firemen
who had run in top speed after hearing the distress whistle. "Over here!" he told the arriving
crew trying to find them with their flashlights. "Adult male. Full C spine and a backboard. And all
the spare O2 you got!"
The Pasadena men hustled over, speaking quickly into their radios.
Johnny stuck two EKG monitor pads over the baby's chest and abdomen and wired the infant for a
quick peek and punched on the unit with a smack, breathing fast. Then he smiled. "Rate's just over
140, doc. Terrrrrific.." he celebrated.
"Sustainable." Kel agreed. "Any distension we need
to worry about?"
Gage swept a couple of fingers over the baby's stomach. "Not much. Dixie's
vents are still working ok."
"What's she at?" he asked about Dixie's rescue breathing rate.
"24 or so a minute." Johnny replied.
"Get a BP for me and then get her out of here." Kel ordered,
nodding his satisfaction.
Johnny rushed, scrambling, and soon, he got one. "62 Systolic."
"That's flight adequate. Stable enough. All right. Dix, let him take over." Dr. Brackett said, getting
the firemen's 02 to Bellingham through a non rebreather as others fitted the now unconscious man
with a cervical collar and got him ready for a log roll. "Gage, run..." he ordered. "Leave without
us. I'll call a ground ambulance for him."
The exhausted RN pulled off her nasal cannula as Johnny
continued where she left off with the baby's mouth to mouth and nose ventilations, and she fitted
it around his face, tucking the O2 bottle under his arm. She pulled the EKG patches off the baby girl's
sweaty skin, tossing the wired leads aside and then she nodded. "Johnny, you're set. I'll help you
carry your gear." she panted, shouting over the roar of the rescue chopper, blowing leaves and
debris over them, as it sped up rotors after Dr. Brackett waved a signal for its pilot to get ready
for a fast priority lift off.
Johnny wrapped the baby into a blanket and ran, maintaining
careful ventilations. Dixie followed him with the drug box and Gage's HT. "Dr. Brackett's now on your
channel." she told him. "Use him if she worsens again. I'll keep an ear out, too." she promised,
transferring the baby back to him after he leaped high enough to board the hovering helicopter.
The last sight she had of Bob Bellingham's tiny daughter and Johnny was when their two silhouettes
merged into one as the focused paramedic gave the baby the breaths she so badly needed as gently
as he could without harming further, her already resuscitation bruised body.
Then they were
gone in a swirl of dirt into the night sky.
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****************************************************************************** From: Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@y...>
Date: Wed Sep 15, 2004 9:43 am Subject: The Flip of a Coin..
Roy DeSoto glanced
over his shoulder to where Jeffrey Mathers lay on a burn sheet. "How are ya doing over there?"
he asked the boy in the blue shirt and yellow pants who was just a lighter shadow in the middle of
a darker one on the ground about thirty feet away from the tangle of metal that held Roy's current
top priority.
"I- I'm ok... Where's dad?" the eight year old blinked up into the darkness.
"Why aren't we going to him right now?" he said, still afraid of moving on his own.
"Because
we're a little short handed." Roy replied, looking down. Stoker and Chet were handling his trapped
victim's airway suctioning while he held the badly injured woman's head still. "And we've a lady
here who needs our help just as soon as we can get it to her. Just keep wrapped up like you are and
you'll warm up soon, I promise. Someone IS coming for you." hissed the fire paramedic when his
knotting forearms started cramping up.
"ok.." said Jeffrey Mathers.
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The three from Station 51 were worried.
Chet grunted. "Ughh.. I can't get it lifted any higher.
Something's really wrong down here. I think this whole section's attached to the strut pinning
her under here. We're gonna need a portapower or a K-12 to make any progress at all. "
Roy
nodded in agreement as another fireman fitted the woman with a cervical collar to free up DeSoto's
hands. "This train car is buried too deep. Nothing short of heavy equipment is going to do much of
anything."
Mike Stoker glanced up at his crewmates with a frustrated look. "That won't work
either. The ground's too soft around us. Something else's gonna have to be done."
Roy dragged
over a battered suitcase with a free hand and used that to hold the woman's head in alignment with
her body. She lay partially under two heavy crossbeams from the chassis of the train car on her
left side and her face was pressed almost completely against the train car's skin.
Stoker
dropped the suction wand onto the woman's chest and quickly replaced the oxygen mask over her nose
and swollen mouth. "I got her clear. She's breathing fast and shallow but well enough."
"Is
her jaw fractured?" DeSoto asked, as another trail of blood started dripping down to the dirt.
"No, I think she just bit her tongue. All of her teeth are there." Mike replied.
Chet Kelly
got on his HT from where he was jammed up between the beams and the semi conscious woman while he
supported her torso with his knees to ease her labored breathing. "HT 51 to Engine 51. Cap!" he
hailed loudly over the sound of hammering and hand tossed debris as the rescue workers around them
tried to dig down to the trapped woman's level from the other side.
##Go ahead, 51.## said
Hank.
"We're gonna need all the tools ASAP. A bobcat is definitely out. Stoker says we're over
a sand pile."
##10-4, Marco and I will run a set of em to ya ourselves. Two minutes!"
Chet
coughed and set the radio down quickly next to his head on a metal sheet as he tried once more to
lift some mass off the woman's stomach. He failed.
The woman's breath gushed out of her mouth
at the return of weight and she moaned when she couldn't inhale any more. Her eyes rolled up into
her head.
"It's slipping!" Chet gasped.
Immediately, two diggers wormed their way under
the creaking car to Chet's location and joined him in a desperate attempt to stop the tipping,
barely counter balanced, car. The edge of the train chassis lifted up six inches.
Roy helped
the woman revive by helping her breathe with an ambu bag until her eyes started regaining focus once
more. "It's ok now. We stopped it. Just relax. We're gonna get you outta here." he said insistently
into her ear.
Soon, the woman pushed the face mask away and struggled to blink clarity back
into her vision."S--Something's squeezing.... *gasp* ...me." she gurgled. "ahhhHH!"
"I know.
I know.. We're trying to get down below your waist to see what it is and deal with it." Roy said.
"And about your pain, I've a doctor on the way who'll take care of that just as soon as he gets
here. What's your name?"
The woman didn't answer, working hard to breathe. She spit continuous
blood out of her mouth. Roy helped her once again on the bag from where she hung face sideways.
He motioned for another fireman to take over for him while he got another blood pressure reading on
her free arm. It was ominous and matched her rising tachycardia.
He climbed out of the hole
and grabbed two I.V. bags of Ringer's and started to prep them. He shouted down to Chet. "Kelly,
see if you can find any I.D. on her. If we have a name we'll have a chance to learn what her blood
type is off some medical records to pave the way for a possible transfusion."
"Will do.."
and the curly haired fireman's feet disappeared back into a hole at the diggers' feet. He came out
with a battered tan wallet, passing it off hand to hand until it got into Roy's grip. "That was
in her front jeans pocket." came Kelly's muffled voice.
Roy flipped it open and startled.
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