


 |
 |

************************************************** From: "finiterider" <finiterider@yahoo.com> Date:
Sun Nov 20, 2005 9:03 pm Subject: Two Bulls in a China Shop.
Kel Brackett was beside
himself with more than just a little worry for Nurse Dixie McCall. He was so preoccupied with listening
to the fire department scanner over the main ER desk for any word about her, that he never heard the
soft tread of Dr. Fred Hathaway arrive until a gentle hand set onto his shoulder.
"Kel?"
"What?!" Brackett startled, whirling on the seat of his stool. He also bumped his elbow smartly
against the cardiac telemetry monitor in a sharp crack. "Ouch! GaaHHhh ! D*mmit! Now I've done it.."
and he curled fingers around it and locked his body up in a grimace from the arm pain.
Fred
immediately stabilized his coworker's elbow in a concerned automatic surgeon's reflex. "Ooo, geesh.
I'm sorry, Kel. I should've given warning ahead of time. I know how keyed up you get during a blitz
like this. Let me take a look at that." he offered in a not-a-question tone.
Dr. Brackett ...reluctantly,
...rolled up his sleeve. "It's not your fault, Fred. I should know better than to let myself get that
way in the first place." he sighed. His irritation put gravel into his voice and all degrees of his
trademark gruffness. "Feels like just a knock on the nerve. It's nothing." he deflected falsely.
Fred softly checked the bony structures of Brackett's elbow and eased the joint through a small range
of motions. He stopped when Kel's face twisted tightly. "Pretty unfunny for just a funny bone, Kel.
You're ballooning up here transversely...... I think.. " he said, feeling around carefully. "..that
you actually ...managed to dislocate this, my friend."
"No way.." Brackett looked up, fiercely.
But Fred noticed that he didn't move his arm an inch. He watched as five shades of red shot
through his coworker's face in utter mortification. It made him instantly want to remedy things.
"I can reduce it before it stiffens on you.." Dr. Hathaway said, ducking down in equal confidence,
keeping low so no one would discover the situation with Kel's arm.
"Fred, I can't leave now.
Are you insane?!" Kel whispered so no one would notice them and his present embarrassing difficulty.
"I'm a surgeon specialist, remember? I don't need a surgical ward or tools to realign a dislocated
elbow." And with that, Fred took hold of Kel's armpit and forearm and gave it a practiced, firm jerk
that literally picked Brackett up off of the stool. A bright jolt of pain shot across Kel's eyes but
then, the agony was gone. Just like that. It was as if the arm had never been injured.
Kel
blinked then, suddenly aware of Fred holding him upright by the shoulders, waiting patiently until
Kel got his full senses back.
"Need a few smelling salts, Mr."Fainter"?" whispered Fred.
"No."
Kel spat acidly, whipping his repaired arm away from Fred. "I'm fine!.. Uh,.. thank you. Your trademark
trick still works like a charm. Now go get me some coffee and tell me why you're down here." he said,
changing the subject swiftly with some real anger.
Fred got the fortifying drink promptly.
He set it down before Kel whom he knew wasn't about to take sips from it. "You know why. I came
down here to find out about a mutual acquaintance of ours. You know her. She's got blonde hair, an
absolutely stunning smile with a pure saxophone silky voice to match?"
Kel pretended ignorance
as he turned up the volume of the fire scanner to drown out Fred's voice. He remained stonily silent,
clearly displeased with being in such close proximity to his companion.
Fred kept going relentlessly,
still mild and cheerful. "Am I ringing a bell? She's got a five letter word for a first name beginning
with a D and ending with an--"
That was quite enough for Kelly Brackett. He turned and pegged
his best glare of full fledged professional irritation that wasn't professional in the slightest
in actual reality. "Fred. Let's get straight to the point, shall we? I don't know anything yet. Would
I have both ears glued to the L.A. county fire monitor if I knew the slightest scrap of anything
at all?"
"No. I guess you wouldn't." Fred agreed. But then he changed the subject. "I thought
we were friends, Kel. So I was the one Dixie turned to after she left you. So what? It's no big deal.
I'm also standing in the dumped beau line right after you, so lighten up a little. Let's put our mutual
emotional differences aside and worry about posturing later after we find out whether or not the
woman we still both have some feelings for is still in the land of the living, all right?"
|


Kel said nothing.
"I'm sure Joe Early would have a lot to say about how we're behaving right
now if he were here. I may have fixed Joe's heart but he sure knows the state of the two of ours concerning
Dixie I'll just bet."
Dr. Brackett sighed hugely, groping at some ghosting humility. "You're
right. We're acting like a couple of kids in the school sandbox." he said, rising to fiddle yet again
with the empty patient information clipboard waiting on the table for the first paramedic team's
call from the base station. "I'm just disgusted that it took something bad happening to Dixie in
order to get us in the same place at the same time, in the same room together, Fred. Don't you
feel that way, too?"
"I do." Fred said, biting his lip, looking suddenly vulnerable for the first
time.
Kel met his eyes in a matching look, mirroring the same emotion. "Care to go out there
for me and poke around a little after her?"
"In a heartbeat." said the cardiovascular surgeon
with a grin. "I'll keep her safe after they get her to us, and I'll tell you absolutely everything
I'm doing for her treatment wise while I'm doing it, ok?"
"I'm holding you to that. As doctor
to doctor. " Kel said pointing a finger up in emphasis.
"Consider it done. After all, you're
the boss."
And with that, Fred was gone.
|

 |
 |

*************************************************** From: Sam Iam <lafddispatcher@yahoo.com> Date:
Wed Nov 23, 2005 1:11 pm Subject: The Different Eye
Chet Kelly came running. "Cap! Cap!"
he shouted.
Hank Stanley felt an instant stab of dread even before he addressed his man about
what the problem was. "Kelly! Why aren't you on the stokes crew assignment for Roy and Johnny's
new victim?"
"Infrastructure's collapsed right over their position." he panted, sweating profusely.
Only then did Stanley see that the curly haired fireman was coated with plaster dust and insulation
fibers. "We were almost there when a truck in the parking lot melted through the ceiling."
"You
guys got water going into there?"
"Yeah. Marco and Stoker are fanning the pile right now through
the asphalt."
"Ok, I'll get the chief." Hank told him, patting Chet on the shoulder while he
leaned over and hacked up pulverized building material from his mouth and throat. "When you're set,
head back there to dig them all out." Cap ordered as he toggled his HT. "Engine 51 to Battalion 14.
Emergency! Cave in at HT 51's location. Thirty yards south of a ninety from their ground point
entry, going left. We're gonna need all the man power we can get for an underground operation. Our
possible total victim number trapped is a count of three. Two are Code I. Note that ample water
cover is in place."
##10-4, Engine 51. I'll route personnel your way a.s.a.p. Stand fast at
your posting to give the arriving crews details of your situation.##
"10-4, Battalion 14.
Engine 51 out."
Soon, L.A.'s tones sounded out the upgrade alert over every walkie talkie and
truck radio in the area. ##L.A. to Station 36 and Engine 10 : 10-19 the southern exposure with Engine
51. Multiple trapped victims have been reported underground. Situation : Two Code I plus one.
Time out. 13:56.##
|


Hank was grateful for the dispatcher's hint that firefighters were involved. ::That'll make them
arrive that much faster to me.:: Captain Stanley turned to where he could see Chet Kelly, Marco Lopez
and Mike Stoker clustered over the gaping smoking hole in the middle of the parking lot, raining a
thick fan of water down into it, trying to suppress the active flames they could see erupting from
around the rear bumper of the truck sticking out of the hole.
He looked at his watch and saw that
there was only two minutes left on his mental countdown. After that, the air in both Johnny and Roy's
bottles would run out and they would both fall into serious breathing shortage rapidly. ::Why
didn't I tell Johnny to take in the spare scba tanks with him going back in?:: Then another voice
in his head told him the reason why coolly. ::Because you knew that they had Dixie McCall to
find. Don't be surprised that you'd get absolutely the fastest way to rescue such a close friend
in that kind of danger involving some risk. It's only natural. :: said his conscience. ::You're still
doing your job properly.::
Hank hated that inner voice. It took away the guilt he wanted to
feel just then and it sounded a lot like his wife's voice the more he thought about it. Then the
emotional pain truly gripped him. :: Roy's wife will be devastated if she thought I let anything
happen to her husband.:: That put fear deep into his chest. He lifted his HT again, quickly. "Engine
51 to Battalion 14. Uh,.. CIS channel?"
##Switching over.## replied Battalion 14.
Captain
Stanley fidgetted until he heard his chief come over the new private frequency.
##What's up,
Hank?##
"Chief, I read last month that Ladder Nine was trial testing a new device that reads
heat. Do they have one with them now?"
|


##That just might be a winning ticket, captain. I had forgotten about that thing. I'll send them
straight away. Get that hallway your men used cooled down well so the image contrasts will be cleaner.
##
"Copy that, chief. Thanks."
##No, thank you. That was original thinking, the kind that
always saves lives. I still think you're wasted at the captain's level. Don't turn down the next
promotion when it comes, Hank. I'd still love to have you wearing the white before I retire. ##
"I've got a year to think about it. You're not sixty four yet, sir."
##Good luck with the IR camera.
I'll be crossing my fingers behind my back. All of them.##
Cap grinned. "Engine 51 out, switching
back to main channel."
Hank got the fire companies newly assigned to him, cracking, when they
appeared a short time later.
|

 |
 |

*************************************************** From: "Cassidy Meyers" <killashandraRey@hotmail.com>
Date: Wed Nov 23, 2005 9:26 pm Subject: The Inactive Action..
Dr. Hathaway made
his way around the barricades marking the boundaries of the hot zone until he came to the triage center.
Already, he could see seventeen or eighteen being treated.
None of them, was Dixie.
He
turned to the nearest doctor he saw; Dr. Morton. "Mike, you got things in hand here?" he asked with
his voice. But outwardly, his eyes were still casting about for the lost Nurse McCall. ::Oh, my
G*d. Where is she?:: his mind raced. ::Why are things taking so long?::
"Yeah, pretty much.
Did Kel send you for an update?" the blue jumpsuited resident asked.
"Something like that."
he evaded and quickly stepped around a young woman being treated for smoke inhalation. Before the
young doctor could ask Fred more, Hathaway walked swiftly away from him towards his next target, Dr.
Joe Early.
|


"Joe, what have they told you so far about Dixie? Have they located her yet?"
Dr. Early looked
up from the leg he was splinting on the orderly that Johnny Gage had rescued from the laboratory tunnels.
"Not yet. But things have just gotten worse. There's been a cave-in reported."
"A cave-in?!
Oh, Joe.. I've got to get over there!"
"Good luck crossing the fire line." said Early, not even
looking up. "I already tried that, until my sense of duty about taking care of these casualties
got the better of me."
"I want to help, Joe. But just over there. How can they turn down a doctor's
help? They'll listen to me, I'm sure of it. I know the lay out of the labs. They can do things
my way. I just want to offer them another opinion."
Joe turned on the EKG monitor that he had
hooked up on the moaning orderly and he started studying it intently. "I'm sure that the fire department
will set you straight instantly if you try to take matters into your own hands."
Fred sighed,
running fingers through his hair. "Don't you care about Dixie?"
Joe Early looked up with a flash
of fury. "Of course I do. We all do, Hathaway. But first we have an obligation to fulfill here. And
if that means providing triage for the fire department then by G*d, I'll provide it, because that's
our job and oathsworn responsibility now by all hospital procedural duty and definition."
"Not
mine. Kel ordered me to..." Fred flickered a few agitated fingers. " ....snoop around and investigate
a little. So I'm not going to let him down. Or her either, for that matter." he growled defensively.
Joe glared at Hathaway fiercely.
"Call me if you get a critical." Fred sniffed with an angry
frown, holding up his triage radio. "It's too bad us surgeons have to wait around for orders and
surgical case approval from one of you guys first before working any. But hey, triage handles
life threats before scheduling those patients' operations, right?"
|

 |
 |

Joe remained mute. A part of him wanted Fred to be his eyes, too. For Dixie's sake.
"See you
later." said Fred finally. He dashed off into the smoke. "I'll be careful."
Ben Llewellyn, working
a short distance away, bandaging a young lab technician's head, said. "That was brainless." he told
Joe.
"How so? I warned him." Joe insisted.
"Yeah, but you didn't stop him." said the crusty,
blue haired doctor.
Whispering softly to himself, Joe Early looked up into the direction Fred
had disappeared, with tears filling his eyes. "I couldn't."
Down in another casualty row, having
overheard the tale end of the conversation, Dr. Morton became pure fire. "I would've! Now we'll all
get into trouble for letting him go! So much for swearing to watch out for each other my fine, fanciful
colleagues. I'm utterly embarrassed and ashamed to think that the fire department is a whole h*ll
of a lot better at it than we are."
Joe thought he had a backup plan. "We could always call
him, saying that a hospital administrator's ordered him to return."
"With what, son?" snorted
Dr. Llewellyn. "Fred's left his radio on top of the crash cart over there."
"Are you sure?"
"Are two doctors always doomed to fall in love with the same nurse?" murmured Ben.
Joe
Early left his victim's side for a moment to pick it up to confirm the name engraved on its bottom
surface.
It was Hathaway's.
|


************************************************** From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com>
Date: Wed Nov 23, 2005 9:45 pm Subject: The Opposite of Fire Is~~
There was the sound
of quiet coughing echoing in the darkness.
After images started burning Roy's retinas before he
realized that he had come to. "Dixie?!" He struggled up from where he lay crumpled flat on his
back. A jolt of pain through a trapped leg, stopped him. ::Something's pinned me.:: he thought, reaching
in the murk for his feet. A searing hot gas tank branded his gloves. "Ahh!" He whipped his hands away
and lay still once more, listening to the noises around him.
To his left, he could hear breathing,
about three feet away from his right elbow. Then DeSoto realized that the weight on his stomach was
Johnny's face. "Johnny?" he gasped, pulling off his face mask when the low air alarm started going
off.
The electronic howler awoke his partner, who flinched and immediately grunted when he
found his legs pinned, too. Roy held him still with both gloves. "You ok?"
"Yeah,...I think
so..*cough*."
"Gimme your mask, mine's through.." he croaked. "Gimme a breath, then let's shine
our lights around us to look for Dixie."
Gage moved into immediate motion as full recent memory
of McCall's condition, returned. "Where is she?" he said, pressing the air mask to Roy's face
so he could get some relief from the smoke.
|

 |
 |

"I hear her breathing to my right. *cough* It's labored. Liquidy." Roy said hoarsely, sucking in
the fresh air from Gage's bottle greedily.
"We gotta flip her over. Can you reach her?" Johnny
gasped, taking the mask back for himself.
Roy sobbed, feeling the full extent of pain from
what felt like a snapped ankle. "Ugh!... No. Neither can you. Both of us have a full gas tank and
half a ton of rafters lying across the lower halves of our bodies."
"We gotta do something,
or she'll choke in a few minutes on that blood." Johnny said, aiming his penlight onto Dixie's pale
face from where he and his partner lay tangled in the beams from the ceiling.
Roy looked around
their small enclosed space carefully. "I've got an idea."
"What?" panted Johnny, laying a dizzy
head back down onto Roy's hip so he'd wouldn't be a burden to his breathing.
"G-Give me....your
belt." Roy told him. "I've already got mine off."
"What are ya gonna do?" Johnny said, squinting
as he kept watching Dixie's respirations.
"Fusebox.."
Johnny grunted, feeling where
the tremendous weight of the vehicle pressing down onto them, had him trapped. "I don't get it."
"We shut off the master switch and we ...earn the ability to crank up the ..." Roy grimaced when a
spasm shot through his leg. "..oxygen in the room. This is a surgical supply store, remember?" he
smiled weakily. He shook his head to clear it.
"I'm stupid. DuhHHhh. Can you reach one of those
cylinders?"
"My head's lying on one." Roy grinned, tapping it with a knuckle so Johnny would
hear. "The regulator key's in my hand. But first..."
"Yeah, I know we gotta get the power off..
so sparking risk's minimized."
Roy tried to laugh but nothing came out."You're worried about
us causing some with all this open flame around?"
"Do you see any fire, Roy? It's pitch back in
here. That last explosion must have snuffed it out."
"Wondered why I couldn't ....see too well."
Roy drowsed. "Don't think my vision's clear enough for your belt buckle tossing idea, Johnny."
|

 |
 |

"I'll do it.." he said tightly. "I'm more awake than you. Hyperventilate on that and then hold your
breath. I'm gonna need the mask for a bit while I try to snag the handle of that utility box. Keep
an ear on Dixie. Her breathing rate's picking up into the crisis range."
Roy gorged on the
mask's flowing air and passed it over.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Stars were parading thickly across his vision from hypoxia when he felt Johnny push the mask back
over his nose and mouth. He felt his chin get tipped up until he had a clear passage through which
to breathe.
"Roy? I did it. Get your senses back. You get the last of the scba's supply. It's
got thirty seconds left. Then crank on that O2 full blast when you can. Dixie's up to twenty four
a minute."
Roy's limbs felt like pure lead and it was impossible to respond.
"Roy? Can
you hear me?" He felt Johnny's hand push under his jacket to rest on his stomach, monitoring
him.
DeSoto finally answered him with a cough as the last feeble stream of waning air from
the face plate revived him somewhat. "Sorry. .... lost track for...a few seconds."
"The air's
bad in here. My guess is that it's only from a lack of 02. The explosion used it all up in those
flares. Doesn't help that I shut off the ventilation system when I deactivated the power in that fuse
box. Come on, you gotta get that done now before we both black out."
Stubbornly, Johnny refused
the mask Roy try to hand back to him with a firm grip. He held his partner's eyes with a no nonsense
look about it until DeSoto gathered up the strength he needed to lift up his arms.
Roy reached
over his head. His hands were bloody and shaking. ::Is this from me? Or from Johnny? Dixie wasn't
bleeding that badly from her tongue bite.:: Gasping hugely, he managed to turn the valve on the E
tank until it was wide open and it started pouring out its pure, cool oxygen.
Immediately,
clarity returned to both paramedics.
Roy's pain doubled and so did Johnny's, but together, he
and Gage shifted the green cylinder's weight on the gravel debris lying underneath them until
it was shooting out the oxygen gas right over Dixie's liberally fire ashed head.
They both
began shouting to grab the first of her attention.
Dixie emitted a single, weak cough a minute
later, finally reacting to their shouts of encouragement. "Dixie? Wake up! Listen to us. Breathe
deeper! You're way too shallow to do any good." DeSoto said loudly.
Dixie's suffocation struggles
grew as she began to panic in her half state. Stronger and stronger, she flailed her limbs. Then
they began to weaken and she started turning a deeper blue.
"No.." Roy yelled, trying to reach
McCall with either hand. He failed. "Dixie....!"
Gage got an idea and took up a length of
splintered wood. He began to poke her in the shoulder firmly. "Dixie! Come on now! You need to roll
over onto your side. You've got to get rid of all that cr*p in your mouth or you'll start to
breathe it all in."
Dixie's index finger lifted an inch, involuntarily, under their penlights.
"Dixie! Do I have to leave bruises?!" Johnny yelled, losing his temper.
He was about to smack
her across the hand with the flat of the board when Dixie gasped. Adrenaline finally made her jerk
and flip over onto her face. She landed inches away from the oxygen tank's nozzle and the sharp
breeze from it started bringing her around. The sounds she began uttering were only half nonsensical
noises.
The other half was a healthy bout of swearing. "@#$%!*&" said Dixie.
Roy and Johnny
began to smile only then and they both fell back onto the ground with a complete sense of relief.
Vocalizing was a good sign in anybody.
They began to watch her closely as she recovered
from almost drowning from her tongue's bite wound. A large amount of mouth blood trickled in
a stream from between her teeth, to land sizzling in the embers underneath her that were glowing
brightly in the oxygen stream.
"Feel like talking now?" Johnny asked her a few minutes later.
McCall didn't answer.
"Come on, I won't bite. You already did that to yourself so I won't,
I promise. How's the tongue doing? Are you still bleeding out badly?"
Dixie stayed quiet, sucking
in the rich oxygen gratefully.
Johnny started up again. "I know you can hear me, Dixie. Your
eyes are twitching." Dixie sighed without opening them. "Get...me...out.. of here. NOW." she
said quietly, because of the intense pain still shooting through her head.
|

 |
 |

"Sorry, we can't really oblige ya. You see, uh, Roy and I both have a truck lying on top of our legs..."
That made Dixie pick up her head. "What?! A truck? How did th--OhhhHHH!" She immediately set it
back down again when a sharp wave of dizziness sent a gush of vomit into her throat. She spat
it out, turned away from her rescuers, and impatiently waited for the bout of nausea to recede.
It finally did.
"How's your back and neck? We've already guessed about the concussion.." Gage
said.
"I'm ok that way." Dixie swallowed dryly. "Why isn't Roy talking any more?"
Johnny
glanced over at his partner. Roy was dozing, but his skin remained warm and dry under Johnny's touch.
"He's tired. That's all. He got our oxygen supply going so give him a break." Gage said grimacing,
laying his head back down onto Roy's upper leg.
The nurse in Dixie started reappearing. "Speaking
of circulation, how's it in you guys below both your waists?"
"If I didn't know you better,
I'd be taking that as a distinct attempt at a pass, Dixie." Johnny joked, trying to get a rise out
of her.
"Really? You're not my type. I reserve all my flirting strictly for men of the white
coat persuasion, Mr. Paramedic."
"Huh. Figured that one out years ago. Kel's one h*ll of a lucky
guy."
Dixie didn't deign to correct him on exactly where her love life stood just then. "Seriously,
Johnny. Will you answer my question? I don't want to have to worry about anyone but myself here,
ok?"
She heard Gage sigh, trying to hide a cry of pain. "I can feel everything, down to my
toes.*gasp* I assume he can, too. Or he would've mentioned that he didn't."
"There's a small
mercy. Do they know we're down here?"
"Yes. Roy got out our position before the second explosion
separated us from both our walkie talkies."
|

 |
 |

"Any bleeding on you two?" she asked.
"Nope. Just scratches."
"Spinal injuries?"
"None."
"Broken bones?"
"Uh,...let's leave that one for the attending once we're outta here."
"Johnny.." Dixie warned.
"I ...don't know. I can't reach Roy's lower half to find out and he
can't reach mine. You wouldn't happen to be free from debris enough to check on that for us, would
you?"
"I.. think I am. But there's this little problem called vertigo happening."
"Oh.
In that case, never mind. Prop your head up onto that tank. You need to keep it up with a head injury."
"Practice what you preach. I can see the bruise on your forehead from here." Dixie said. "Lemme
spend half a year crawling over to you and I'll help you keep an eye on Roy's pulse. I can do that
at least. It doesn't require me to keep my eyes open."
"Lazy." Johnny kidded her.
"No,
I'm just honest enough to acknowledge my current limitations."
A sharp hiss and a sudden shift
of settling weight made the metal of the fire heated truck in the ceiling groan sickeningly.
Roy's eyes shot open when something pressed down even harder on his thighs. "Ow. Ow. Ow.. sh*t!" he
writhed. Then he closed his eyes, and let a string of profanity gush out freely. "Of course it would
be me get the lowest end of the truck's bumper on my lap." he hissed. "Hurry up, gang, if you know
what's good for you.." he grunted, throwing up a look at the ceiling in the direction of the working
firefighters he thought he heard digging down to their chamber.
"Hey, nap boy. Morning..."
Dixie joked, waving a weak hand at him in the dimness. "Guess who's awake?"
Roy cracked an
eye open and waved back. "Oh, it worked? Hi Dixie. Excuse me while I vent a little m---" and he choked
out another bout of bad language. It faded into a soft moan when light shock finally came to give
him relief.
"I think your run of trucker mouth was better, Dixie. It had more class." Gage
chuckled as he took Roy's pulse while he worked through the increased change in pain. It began to
speed up. Johnny frowned and looked at Roy's face. Cold sweat was beginning to bead on his forehead.
"Roy? Are you hurt worse than your legs?"
"I think ....something's in ......my lower back. I can
feel it when I breathe." Then he blacked out.
"Roy?" Johnny said, getting a grip on Roy's neck
pulse. "Roy?! Can you hear me?"
DeSoto didn't reply.
"D*mn it!" Johnny said. He immediately
reached into his partner's jacket pocket for one of the oral airways he knew Roy kept in there for
rescues. He bit off its plastic wrap and used it on him. "I knew something wasn't going right
with him."
|


Dixie started dragging herself over to the two firefighters, fighting nausea the whole way. "Dig."
she said with urgency. "Let's dig a hole under him and see what it is. Maybe it's just something he's
lying on."
"All right.." said Gage evenly, seriously. "But the moment you get tired, I want
you to stop. I don't want you overexerting yourself. I'm still kicking myself for letting him do the
same thing by letting him crack open that oxygen tank without checking him out first."
"We
were suffocating, Johnny. Time wasn't yours to waste."
"Well, now it most definitely isn't either.
Hey!!" he began to shout, picking up the ripped up board to hammer it soundly on a pitch angled wall
near him. "We're right here! Hurry up! H---" Agony from his left leg locked Johnny up.
"Johnny.
Quit that. Serves you right. You're a trauma victim, too, whether you want to be one or not. So shut
up." Dixie ordered.
Gage smiled from the ground where he had curled up around his pinned leg.
"Now I know you're getting better. You're beginning to sound more like the Dixie I know."
"Speak
for yourself."
"I thought I was doing that." Johnny said, loosening up Roy's jacket and collar
from around his throat. "Here, take this board. Use it to deflect some of that oxygen stream Roy's
way. I want it in his face."
"Think it'll wake him up like it did me?"
"There's always
hoping." Gage said sharply. Then he looked up at the dark hole above them again. "I wonder what's
taking them so long to get through to us. It's not that far up to the parking lot's level from here."
In answer, a falling pipe of drinking water, the lab's two foot diameter water main, fell down
over their heads, rupturing wide open. Hundreds of gallons of water began to bounce off the roof
of the mangled truck and onto the three trapped below.
The water began to rise rapidly around
them, filling up the hallway.
|


*************************************************** From: "patti *mimic*" <pattik1@hotmail.com>
Date: Fri Nov 25, 2005 4:47 pm Subject: Morpheus Effect..
Dixie let out a startled scream.
"What's happening? Is this from a fire hose?"
"No, there's too much of it. I think this is
from a subterranean water main! Don't you smell the chlorine?" said Johnny.
Dixie nodded that
she could.
"Reach him, Dixie. Cover Roy's face with his air mask. He can't protect his own
airway from all this water while he's unconscious like this."
Grunting, Dixie shifted on her stomach,
until she got a hold of the emptied scba bottle. She began using its face plate like an umbrella
, holding it over DeSoto's nose and mouth to start deflecting away the cascading water. "I got
him." she coughed, shaking frigid streams from her eyes like a wet dog. The cold of it drove away
the last of the nausea she was feeling and surrealistic terror took over. Oddly enough, McCall felt
her brain begin to function. "Johnny. Use the water! It's softening the debris layer underneath him."
"I know. I'm already down here." he grunted, digging under Roy's hip and lower back with both
muddy gloves. "I'm gonna try to free him first."
Dixie helped him with a heel of her foot.
"Is he really stabbed on top of something?" she gasped, struggling to keep the air mask off of
Roy's face even while the falling water tried to beat it down forcefully.
Gage didn't answer,
coughing in whistling, frightened gasps while he dug a hole underneath DeSoto, using his penlight
for illumination. The dull gleam of an opaque white cylinder revealed itself, etched with familiar
horizontal black lines. It was stuck vertically down from Roy's back. "It's a 100 ml syringe of
some kind. The needle's impaled him and it's partially full of something."
"Get it out!" McCall
quailed.
Johnny didn't like the idea of disturbing an object inside of Roy's lower abdomen,
but the thought of whatever that solution was, injecting more of itself into him, was too much to
bear. Slowly, he pulled out syringe's embedded needle carefully; straight down, and back out the way
it had come. One inch, two inches, three... Finally, the end of it pulled clear. "This looks like
a bicarb needle, Dix. It's six inches long." he said, holding it up quickly into the light of his
flashlight. He snapped the sharp lance's hub off and threw it away violently.
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"It looks like an anesthetic." she said taking it from him to study it. "A lot like one of the preps
they use before doing spinal punctures."
"I'm saving this then." Gage said, stuffing it into
his turnout pocket. He knew it would have to be analyzed to discover what drug it contained. "How's
he doing?"
"Still breathing. But it's very slow, shallow."
"That might be because of all
this oxygen saturating the air. He's still pink enough."
Dixie coughed, thinking of an idea.
"Give me your penlight."
Johnny handed it over, barely able to reach Dixie's hand far enough to
do it.
Dixie flattened herself over Roy, using her body to shield him from the raining water
burst, and ran its beam over Roy's pupils, checking each in turn without disturbing the lay of his
oral airway. "They're pinpricked, nonreactive."
"So it's a narcotic working on him." Gage
sighed. "It fits his symptoms. Let's hope he didn't get enough for an overdose or he'll lose all vital
signs eventually." he said with dismay.
"All three of us might suffer that if this water
gets any higher. I can feel that it's almost up to his ears already, Johnny." Dixie grunted, struggling
to keep the scba mask over DeSoto's head. "We've got to hurry."
The two of them began to dig out
from underneath the fallen truck even faster, shouting for help as loud as they could at the hole
that was flooding them out rapidly.
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************************************************** From: Patti or Jeff or Cassidy <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com>
Date: Sun Nov 27, 2005 7:44 pm Subject: To Dixie.. With Love..
Marco Lopez looked
up from where he and Chet were washing down the sinkhole in Rampart's parking lot when a portion
of it suddenly collapsed again; the fire glow that they could see, turning into more steam than
their own water cover could account for. "Chet! Substrate's shifted! We've got a pipe burst! Get back!"
They staggered backwards in a panic as the tarred ground beneath their feet gave way before them.
They both fell onto their backs and were immediately helped to their feet again by fire crews
so their hose wouldn't get away from them. They both fumbled until they could man the nozzle again,
enough to shut it off.
Running back to the new edge of the subsidence in between the parked
cars, Lopez stretched himself out onto the ground, peering down, "Johnny?! Roy?" he shouted into his
walkie talkie on the squad's band.
There was no reply. Only the sound of tons of water escaping
infrastructure at high speed. He nodded to Stoker to report the change.
51's engineer spoke
quickly with Battalion 14 and filled him in.
##Engine 51, is Ladder Nine setting up at your position?##
Mike looked up and saw a team from the city in yellow opening up a high tech, foam cushioned equipment
case. "That's affirmative."
##Hang tight. I have a couple of Rampart's designers here with me.
We'll work out exactly what water main's involved and try to get it shut off a.s.a.p.. Note your stable
ground and get a vertical wench situated.## ordered the chief.
"10-4.." Stoker affirmed. He
rapidly got what he wanted and clusters of helping hands set up the rapid access tripod and pulley
over the hole.
A new voice interjected through the chatter of the firemen as they checked and
rechecked their set up. "Let me through! I'm from triage. We need an update on your situation." It
was Fred Hathaway. "What's happening? Why aren't your people going down there to start digging?"
Marco rose from where he crouched next to Stoker and Kelly who were threading lines into the portable
winching gear and hooking up lifebelts and stokes to it. "Hey, not so close. The ground isn't safe
here." Lopez cautioned holding up a damp glove.
Fred used his greater height to peer over Marco's
helmet. "How bad is it?" the surgeon asked. "We heard the tunnel ceiling gave way."
"Mister,
we're about to get your staff nurse out of there." Kelly told him. "We're gonna peg her position with
an infrared reader and then get our team down. She's not alone. Believe me when I tell you that. Johnny
and Roy, our paramedics, are simply the best in the business and they're right down there with
her. "
"Wait a minute, that stuff coming out of the hole's not fire smoke. That's a water vapor
cloud!" It was only then that the blonde haired surgeon smelled pipeline moisture. Fred panicked,
instantly understanding that the firemen were dealing with a rapidly rising flood, and flames no
longer. ::Dixie!:: Fred quailed. "Somebody, get down there now!" he said, pressing nearer. "They're
drowning! Let me over there!"
Stoker grabbed his shoulders. "Doctor! Stay put!" he growled. "You're
not going anywhere. Let these people do their job. Your interference isn't helping matters.." he
told Fred as they grappled.
Vince Howard, manning the public traffic away from the rescue site,
looked up. "Is that man causing you a problem?" he asked Kelly and Lopez from his traffic directing
post.
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Fred pushed away from Stoker's grip, throwing his hands up in surrender. "No problem officer. I was
just.....leaving." said Hathaway, and he put his hands into his triage tunic's pockets. Fred strode
away, weaving in between cars in the parking lot in a general direction back towards the triage hanger.
As he had hoped, the firemen's attention fell away from him and back to the rescue ongoing over
the pavement collapse site. He saw a firefighter lift up some sort of camera to an eye, looking through
the billowing water fog.
Hathaway immediately ducked behind a large van and made his way over
to the south entrance of the lab building. As he suspected, there weren't any fire personnel over
there anymore. All were at the hole, helping out with the active rescue team at the winch.
Slyly,
Hathaway uptook one of the spare air bottles Gage had left at the top of the stairs and put it on.
Then he took hold of the end of Johnny's safety rope that was still tied off on the underground stairway's
banister and Fred began following it down into the tunnel, feeling his way by touch in the steamy
darkness.
No one saw him go in.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Gage was still digging around Roy's legs. It was harder, since everything was now under two and
a half feet of water.
Dixie was holding Roy's head up against her chest. "Johnny! Hurry. I can't
sit him up any higher." she sputtered. Rushing water was now up to her chin. And Roy's neck.
"I'm
going as fast as I can." Gage said, taking another huge breath. He dove underwater and swam under
the truck again to chop with his knife's blade once more around the plastic truck bumper still stubbornly
trapping his partner's legs. He rose for another gasping breath."Keep getting his face out of the
water! I've almost got him free."
Johnny's own foot, had been easy to untangle. The water
had acted as a lubricant, softening his shoe's leather. Cutting it away was all that had been needed
to rescue himself from the debris pile's grip. Now, he was working frantically to save Roy.
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