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"The fourth fl-- Oh my G*d.. 415. Kel, I was up there trying to find John Gage and Megan Miller. Their room's facing the fire. I found their door blocked shut by fallen scaffolding!" Dr. Brackett and Dr. Morton both grabbed her shoulders to keep her from rising. "They got out. An orderly who helped us with you told us so. Most likely they're outside in the lobby somewhere just hanging around, waiting for a check up." "No they aren't.. Because I ..." Just as fast, memory eluded her. Dixie sighed, giving up trying to sit as she sank back onto the bed. "Because I'm certain that we---" "Dixie, just hold on and think about the whole thing for a moment. Do you really have cause to worry about those two? Or is this moderate shock kicking in? The nurses at that desk say everything's 10-2 on that floor. Has been for at least twenty minutes." "Well,, I still can't shake this feeling, not exactly.. It's just that...something's not ...right." she frowned in confusion. "Dix, you just had minor surgery to repair that brachial artery. You lost over 1000cc's of blood. You're bound to feel a little off kilter." Mike Morton said with a grin and more than a little insistence. "Mike, I know what I'm feeling now. Do me a favor. Just go up and check on them, ok? It'll only take a few minutes.." Kel shook his head. "Wish I could spare the time, Dix. But the E.R.'s packed, and we're still deep in triage mode. I'm sure Johnny can take care of things by himself for a while. You know how fireman are. They're really really good at keeping on their feet. Now no protests, Mike and I have to get right back at it a.s.a.p. You were something of a priority case for us and that's the only reason why the both of us are here." "Kel, Mike.. I.." Mike looked up and said, "Are we gonna trust her to stay parked?" "H*ll, no. So let's encourage her strongly, shall we?" And both doctors, to Dixie's chagrin, strapped the bed belts around her legs, waist and shoulders to guarantee compliance. "Guys, you can trust me. How about if I promise to be a good patient and not go any---" "Rest, Dix. And that's an order..." Brackett said, tempered by a smile. "At least until your IV bag finishes up. Then you can start to think about hobbling around to bark orders at the other nurses all you like. We're gonna need your bed space. Until then we're keeping you strapped in until that arm decides it's going to stay clotted up. When the chaos clears up a bit, we'll come back and do a neater job on those artery sutures." The two doctors stripped off their gloves they had donned for Dixie's repair job and hastened from the room into the triage filled bustle of the outer wards. Dixie sighed, eyeing her arm splint and wrap job critically. "That's just great, you two." She took a deep breath from her oxygen and the elusive memory that had haunted her came flooding back. "Oh no.. Guys! Come back! I know what I saw in that back corridor now! Children's drawing pens don't lie around littering the floor for no good reason..!" she shouted. Feeling weak, Dixie whispered to herself in defeat. "How can they when regular patients can't find a way into that restricted part of the hospital without help?" A few minutes later, she set in again for someone to search the fourth floor loudly, but Dixie's words never reached any ears that really wanted to hear her out. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Mr. Gage! Now I know you can hear me. I've been telling you all my best riddles. And I'm getting tired of doing that to a quiet audience.. I--I DARE you to open your eyes and laugh at them. You have to remember them so you can tell Chet your friend when you get home,..ok..? Mr. Gage..? Come on, wake up. My hands are getting tired holding this oxygen mask. It's so heavy and it's too big for you." "Uh....hhhh." Johnny groaned and he coughed once when Megan accidently bumped a painful cut on his cheek with her elbow. "That's it. That's it. I knew you could do it. Tell me. Tell me what I can do to get you better faster. I need you, Mr. Gage. I need you to get us out of here, now.." Megan pleaded, shaking his shoulder with both hands. Gage pushed away the oxygen mask and rolled over onto his side, getting ill all over the floor. Bravely, Megan didn't back away from the sounds. She just held his head on her lap. "It's ok, everybody gets upset stomach now and then. Mommy says that a little 7up always makes it better. I'll get you some when we get out of here." Johnny's breathing rasped, frightening her, when he didn't speak again. "Hey,.. are you ok?" Megan asked. Huge wracking coughs kept Gage from talking right away.. Then he said softly.. "No,.. I... I'm not, Megan. I...must have gotten ....more toxins from the smoke ...than I had.....originally....planned on. Chest's...*choke*..filling up fast.." "What can I do, Mr. Gage? Come on, tell me. There must be something I can do..." the little girl sobbed. "I....I.. can't.....think.." Megan's voice took on a quiet tone and she started talking, keeping the mask tightly over Johnny's face as he tried to pull himself together. "That's ok... I'm nine years old. I'll do the thinking for both of us.. I'm used to taking care of my younger brothers and you're only just a bigger kind of brother to me.... Only,...only.." Megan's face screwed up under her bandages and tears began to soak through, making them damp and pink. "..I don't know what to do now, Mr. Gage. I - I just keep right on hearing that awful low rumbling sound that came before that jetplane fell out of the sky. I'm scared Mr. Gage. I still am.. It sounded so much like something to be afraid of." she sobbed. |
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"D-don't ...be afraid.. I ..I ...*gasp* I...know what to do now. Megan...I...need you to find me a ...uh, a shot, ok.? You know, the kind with medicine in it.." "What?" Megan said, brushing dirty hair out of Johnny's eyes. "I don't understand." But Johnny didn't realize he was confusing the girl. He just blearily kept mumbling. "It's like your dad's coffee, only stronger..." he gasped, pushing the oxygen away... "It's called...a-atropine.... Go get the shot, Megan. Get it now. It's...it's..got to be nearby.. I just ..saw it." "Where? Mr. Gage, I can't do that.. I can't see anymore." her lip trembled. "It's ok, hon. Oh,...I see it right here, just out of reach about six feet to our right. Can you sweep around for it? Wait a minute, d- don't reach so far, you'll pull out your IV. Go slow.. A little farther.. There, feel it? It's like a plastic pack of silverware from the fast food restaurant. Yeah, that's it..." Johnny let his head fall back on Megan's lap and he closed his eyes, exhausted from the effort of picking up his head.. "Take it out of the paper and hand it here. You're gonna have to help me take it.." "No,.. I can't do that.. I..hate shots.. Even watching them.." Megan protested. Johnny gave a little laugh. "Well, we won't have that problem now, will we? Your eyes are wrapped up.." "Oh, yeah. That's right. But I know it's gonna feel gross anyway.." she reasoned. "Not that much for you to gross out with, now is there? You aren't going to be on the receiving end of it.." he coughed, trying to put a laugh into his tone. He failed to hide his weakness. "Oh...h.." Megan quailed. "Now,... I gotta take this in the hip. And I'm too beat to get my jeans loosened. You're gonna have to help me." Johnny said gasping. "I'm not going to undress you!" "Megan, you won't see anything.." he gasped in frustration. "No, but I will know what's going on and that's bad enough.." she yelled right back, more angry than embarrassed. "Ok,...ok...ok.. *choke* Change of plans. Calm down. I won't make you do anything you aren't willing to do. Geesh. Relax a little." Gage snaked out his hand until he grabbed a pair of clothes shears that had fallen from the crash cart when he fell against it. "Just let me... get my breath back ...it'll only take a bit.." After some time taken to use the black O2 mask on high, Johnny spoke again. "Ok, here's the s-scoop. Can you cut away my jeans pocket on this side? Here's a pair of scissors I got...from the cart.." "I don't want to cut you..!" Megan said vehemently. "Megan, these are paramedic's scissors. Feel that? There's no sharp points on these, they're blunted with skin guards. Now.. go ahead. I...gotta....hurry....Getting h-hard to.. breathe now..." And Johnny exaggerated his true condition by breathing noisily to get Megan over her qualms about ruining his jeans. He eased off his acting when he felt cool air over his hip after much tugging and slicing on Megan's part. Soon the job was done. Johnny began to realize that his respiratory distress wasn't all himself faking it. ::Edema? Too soon. Too..:: "M--Megan.. pull off the cover from the needle.. Now..push the plunger until you feel the medicine squirt out the top." "Ooops sorry.." "That's...o..ok.." Gage puffed. "I-I'll dry off soon enough when we get out of here.." Gage said. The room started retreating again. Johnny could feel his chemical burned bronchioles closing off despite of the O2 and suddenly another blackout threatened to swallow him up. ::I need the atropine.. Now.. or I'll quit br--:: "Megan..feel where there's a padded spot on my hip and give me the s-shot where ..*gasp* you feel the skin isn't b-bony.." "I can't do that!" "Megan, I'm gonna faint on you ...right now... I can feeling it ....c-coming on.. Now,. just do it. Come on, there's a good g---" Johnny's laboring lungs suddenly snuffed out his consciousness in mid sentence. Megan felt Gage's hands fall away from hers and she heard the mask tumble off his face to the floor and his breathing suddenly quieted alarmingly. "Mr. Gage? Are you ok?.." she asked in horror. "Don't go to sleep. You gotta show me how to do this..." she whimpered. Then something integral made Megan let go of the "child" way of thinking and a new budding "adult" side of her kicked in. With only slightly shaking hands she stuck the needle firmly home and injected all the atropine in the syringe into Gage's hip muscle. Then she jerked it out and flung it away in absolute disgust. Weeping, Megan Miller hugged Johnny Gage, listening to the rapid and weak wheezing noises coming from under the mask she had quickly returned to his face. "Please don't die..." she whispered. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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************************************************************* Date: Thu, 12 Feb 2004 16:43:28 -0800 (PST) From: "Sam Iam" <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com> Subject: A Glint In The Light An obnoxious squelch over the open frequency made Chet Kelly startle as he and Stoker climbed over the airplane debris field colorfully marked in fatality sheets. "J*sus H Christ... That's too loud!" he articulated as his hand shot into his turnout pocket to pull out his HT. His face was hot and streaming inside his air mask that he still wore. "Gonna be a scorcher today. Feels like 80 and the sun's just coming up." "Could be because of all the fires, Chet. Relax. Feel like going for another air bottle change out yet?" Stoker asked, wiping a sooty glove over his faceplate so Kelly could see the glint in his eye that was an attempt to lift his spirits. Kelly stared at his radio accusingly as L.A. did its first communications check in with all the rescue and police personnel on scene of the jet crash. ##L.A. Stations: 99, 36, 118, 12, 127, 8, 51, 10, Battalion 14, Ladder 90, Brush 5, One Adam Twelve, One Bravo Three, One Tango Six...#... the list droned on and on... "Man, Stoker. I'd thought I'd never be on a response this big. I mean, how can they ever keep track of everybody? It's hard enough just keeping our own station's chatter on sub band 51." Mike Stoker stopped in his tracks and turned a circle in place just like he'd been doing every twenty steps for the last two hours, looking for magnesium hot spots that might endanger their boot material. He eyed the signs of carnage and rubble alike with a professional dispassionate distance that Chet knew he'd never be able to master. "That's what the Fire Chiefs are for. L.A. can only ferry transmissions, not organize them all." "I know, I know." Kelly said, hooking yet another piece of plane metal away from a tiny fuel blaze as they searched for their current assignment, looking for the flight recorder. "Maybe I'm just on edge because we haven't found a live victim. I really didn't need to see that rescue worker and his dog all busted up like that. It kinda gets a guy down. Know what I mean?" |
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Mike Stoker motioned that their way forward was clear of hazard without saying anything. He started counting out their twenty paces out loud once again as the lead man on the recovery team. His left foot stumbled on some baby clothes and he only hesitated briefly before walking on, using his hook as a support. "Ah, man... I should have been a farmer.." Chet said softly as he regarded his crewmate's hunched over back. "This stuff's for the birds." He hurried to catch up to Mike to give him an affectionate pat on the shoulder. --------------------------------------------------------------- They were on the east side edge of the triage area outside a SafeKo store. Roy DeSoto and Brice patted the back of the Mayfair after sealing off its access doors. "Go, go go!" the weary, ginger haired paramedic urged the driver as he stepped back away from the tires. Then he leaned over, catching his breath with his hands on his knees. Brice whistled, getting Roy's attention. "Need this again?" he asked, lifting a demand valve mask from a coil wrap he had just finished making in their O2 case. DeSoto shook his head, and waved him off with a gesture. "Nah... I'm fine..." and he parked his soiled backside on a spent foam unit casing to rest. He rubbed his face. "It's just... that last one really got to me. I mean, who'd figure a four year old boy going to his first day care center would ever end up on the receiving end of all of this..." he said, throwing up his hands at the chaos around them. A sharp support volunteer quickly darted over from a supply tent and handed both paramedics plastic water bottles, already opened. They were luke warm. Roy and Brice nodded their thanks mutely. Craig rubbed the dirt off his face and made a half hearted attempt at rubbing some more off of his usually pristine uniform. "It doesn't pay to get emotionally involved with a patient while treating them." Roy flared, "Does it look like I'm treating anybody right now, Brice?" he shouted, sharp. "No..." Craig studied his feet and then just knelt and finished putting away the O2 apparatus. A long pause seemed to isolate the two men despite the roar of fire and echoing radio transmissions and hissing hoses and idleing engines surrounding them. But then, his face altered and opened up. "Sorry. There I go again, offering stupid advice where it isn't welcome." |
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Roy lifted his head and just shook it, brushing off the apology. "We're tired. We're all tired. And things really seem like they can just.....go on forever.." His eyes wandered over to ground zero where he could just see a crane trying to lift the tail section of the airliner away from an alley full of body parts. "Not your fault lashing out.." he said softly. "I just did it myself.." he said with an unconvincing familiar smile. Brice's back just stayed stiff as he slowly stowed their gear back into the squad side compartments. Roy got up and walked over to recollect his soggy coat from where it lay on the roof of the squad in a futile attempt to dry it off. "Come on, let's go grab some coffee. Dwyer said they have a refreshment tent already set up. Anything's gotta taste better than these things." he said draining the last of the water from his bottle. "We'll keep our talkies with us in case we get any more calls. I don't know about you, but I don't wanna be tied to the squad's radio for that. I wanna move around a little." Craig finally grinned and looked at Roy. "Same here. I thought I was the only one getting ansy." "Not by a long shot.." DeSoto smirked. But then Craig's face fell into another disturbed frown that DeSoto noticed. "What's wrong?" he asked Brice. "I....can't put my finger on it. But have you been listening to all the radio checks? There's not one voice going on the air that I recognize.." he told Roy. Roy tipped his head, thinking a bit. "Well, there are a lot of us here.." "Yeah, perhaps you're right. But I can't shake the willies I've had ever since we both got here." "Body recovery blues?" DeSoto asked. "No..no.." Craig said carefully. "It's different.." "Well, a little sugar might help. We're both a little transparent right now. Not hungry, but hollow. And we still have to do our vitals sets on each other looking for hidden trouble spots because of all the complex smoke around here." "We'll do that after the break." Craig nodded in decision. Roy shrugged back into his damp jacket. "Ok.." he grinned. "Let's go." ------------------------------------------------------ |
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Chet Kelly passed by mountains of steaming rubble, house and plane and nothing he saw was familiar. "We've been all over the place, Stoker. I don't think we're gonna find it. Maybe we should let the Feddies.." "We haven't been on this side yet, Chet. I know, I would have remembered passing that.." he said, pointing down to a charred car that had a severed fire hose lying by it. Kelly leaned in a little closer. "What happened here?" "Hose burst. The crew manning it must have touched a mag fire." "Oooo." Chet winced in sympathy, peering into the windows of the car. "Looks like they got out a live one. There's IV and EKG papers all over the place. And I'm seeing a used suction cylinder in here. " Mike hooted. "Whoo Hooo! There's one LESS for ya, Grim Reaper! " and he celebrated by raising his fire hook in triumph. Chet raised his eyebrows in silence before mumbling, "Always gotta watch out for the quiet types, man.." but he smiled just a few seconds later. Unfamiliarity reigned across the landscape on the ground with nothing recognizable, but all the fire and smoke was all too familiar to them as they resumed search. One section to the west under a rising column of an as yet unbattled fuel fire caught Chet's attention. A shape sticking out of the mess that bothered him. "Hey, Stoker. This way." "Kelly, we'll mess up our pattern.." "Just come on.. I may have spotted something." Mike Stoker followed line of sight along Chet's arm. Then he shrugged. "A firefighter. So.." "Stoker, think a minute.. Do you see a truck around here anywhere. No one leaves the hundred foot perimeter from the engine in an unknown hazard scene." Stoker once again eyed the figure picking its way over the debris field, shimmering in the early morning heat thermals. Its helmet almost seemed to big. "Looter?" "I'll bet fifty bucks on it.." Kelly complained. "Now, I'm really mad...." Stoker frowned. The mild expression on his face hadn't changed. "Good, glad it's unanimous. Shall we do a little city property recovery mission? Not like we're really needed victim scouting and I'm fed up with trying to locate a needle in a haystack with that flight box." Kelly sighed. "I'm in.." ------------------------------------------ |
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