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************************************************** From: "Roxy Dee" <laterrapincabesa@hotmail.com> Date: Wed May 3, 2006 5:11 pm Subject: The Wall Crawling Remedy~~ It was a slow afternoon at Station 51. The whole gang had long ago given up newpapers and checkerboards and were falling into round two of aimless television watching and taking catnaps whereever they happened to be sprawled around the rec room. The only three people showing signs of active animation were Johnny, Roy and Chet. The tinny volume from the station's cheap television set held them rivetted, nonetheless. "Would you look at that?!" Gage exclaimed in exasperation at the current news story. "People are just nuts these days, I'm telling ya." he said throwing a careless hand at the television screen. A news broadcast was showing footage after footage of people waiting in line at the gas pumps to fill their trucks and automobiles at filling stations across the nation. "Now that is just plain craziness.. We're not out of gas yet, so why the ridiculously high prices?" Johnny wanted to know. "Aw, Gage. Don't you know how politicians work these days? They're probably taking hand offs from all the big oil companies to look the other way. And while that's going on, it's the average guys like us who have to own up to their tabs by paying them out through our gas tanks." Chet summed up. "I don't know.." said Roy thoughtfully as he crunched a carrot from a plateful of cut veggies and dip. "They say this is a true energy crisis going on because of the oil embargo overseas. I'm not so sure this is just gas gouging." Desoto frowned. "It'll probably blow over in a couple of weeks." "Easy for you to say.." said Johnny with exasperation as he sat up to steal a peanut buttered celery stalk from Roy's snack table. "You've got just a tiny sports convertible to worry about." "Hey.." protested Roy. "Go get your own!" when he missed grabbing Gage's stealing hand. Johnny ignored him, chewing happily. "You guys don't own a gas hog like I do. My rover costs me twelve whole dollars to fill sometimes." Chet just leaned back in his kitchen chair turned cock-eyed toward the TV and stretched."Yeah, well that's what we monkeys get for digging in the dirt and depending ourselves and most of our machines on a fossilized mineral slime. I say we deserve what we get." "Oh, that's deep... that's really--" began Johnny with irritation. |
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"Would you guys keep it down a little?" asked a sleepy, booming voice from behind them. "Stoker and I are trying to get some shuteye in the bunkroom. We heard you guys commenting on things from the peanut gallery all the way over there.." grumbled Captain Stanley loudly. He wasn't yawning. Johnny was so startled that he started slipping over backwards from the two rear chair legs he was balancing on by the bookshelf. Hank had no sympathy for him when he finally lost the battle over gravity and thunked over, bruising his tailbone. "Ow, d*mmit! Why did you have to startle me like that?" Johnny fumed. "I'll try harder to tip toe next time, just for you." said Cap disappearing back into the garage, heading for his bed. "In the meantime, pipe down, ok?" Kelly just smirked as he watched Roy get up to help Johnny right his chair and himself from his undignified heap on the floor."Anything startles you, these days, Johnny. That's because you're always wound up like a top from drinking too much coffee." The body on the couch laughed out loud. It was Marco. "That much is pure fact." DeSoto glared at Lopez. Then he looked down. "You ok?" Roy asked his partner. "You didn't hit your head, did you?" Gage nodded no. "I managed to keep my neck up." Chet mocked with a newscaster sounding voice. "That hollow sound we all heard, folks, was just the skinny rack of bones Gage calls for a body coming to a complete stop." Then he took on normal tones. "Should be familiar enough to you by now, Roy. He always gets into mishaps these days. At least once a week on the job by my reckoning." "Very funny. I'm not going to even dignify that with a comment." Johnny said, rubbing his rear. "It's true.." insisted Chet. "We can always give Rampart a call and get the official tally to see if I'm right." "Oh, why don't you just shut up for once!" Fed up, Johnny exited the room, moving to the equipment closet with alacrity as he searched yet again for something worthwhile and productive to do. He ended up grabbing a still clean and full mop bucket and he started scrubbing the floor in the corner by the front glass entryway door and Cap's office with angry sloshes and wringouts. His amusement wiping away, Roy followed him out into the vehicle bay. "Wanna talk about it?" he said eventually, leaning up against the squad's bumper. "No. Nothing to talk about." said Gage tersely. Roy bit his lip. "Come on, Johnny. I know you better than that. What's your problem? I'm a good listener, maybe I can figure something out for you..." "Now that's it right there, pal. Why does everybody think they always have the answers for me?!" Johnny said, splashing his mop back into the wash bucket so agressively that Boot ansed away from the spreading puddle he was checking out with curiosity. "Sorry, Boot." snapped Johnny. Then he continued. "If it's not suggestions on how to manage my love life, it's razzing about how klutzy I am when things aren't actually my fault at all in the first place.." Roy respectfully stayed quiet while Johnny ranted. |
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"That snake bite wasn't my fault, neither was that monkey virus or my broken leg last year. The only incident I can recall that was entirely my mistake was reaching into that car in the L.A. river bed and cutting my hand wide open. That.. was my fault.." spattered Johnny. "I wasn't wearing my fire gloves." DeSoto decided not to mention that soap foam was getting sprayed onto his shoes and pants legs. "Don't let Kelly get the best of ya. Why don't you always do what you normally do to defuse him and craft a joke or two to play on him? You always get the best of him. Well, every time except for that once when the Phantom wars were going on." Johnny didn't even look up from his rapid, irritated floor scrubbing. "That's not even an option any more, Roy. Because, I'm sick and tired of stooping down to his level just to control him.." Roy's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head earlier?" "Oh, for Pete's sake." exasperated Johnny. "Now even you won't take me literally anymore. Do me a favor.. Just go away." "All right.." said Roy, getting stung. "I will. Enjoy your tantrum. I was just trying to help out. Geez.." DeSoto said, moving around the squad's front end to get to the equipment stow. He dragged out the defibrillator case and the biophone to do a telemetry check. He hooked up the antennae after he had the defib paddles charged on their metal test plate and made his call. "Rampart, this is Squad 51 for an afternoon Tetronix check, EKG and live paddles." The two paramedics made it a production of not looking at each other. Dixie's voice came over the line. ##Squad 51, we read you loud and clear. We're set for your signal and shock.## "Rampart, this'll be a lead II calibration, followed by a 100 watt shock!" Roy yelled at her, slamming the phone down on the squad's roof to turn a dial. Then he waited to hit the shock buttons. ##Squad 51, your strip's coming through as testing all channels. Go ahead.## she told him, her puzzled tone at the anger in his voice apparent. Sighing loudly, DeSoto placed the paddles on the test plate and fired them off. ##Cardioversion's registering properly, 51.## she said no nonsense to get him to shape up mood wise without using other words. "10-4, Rampart. Squad 51, over and out." Roy said softly apologetic to her. Then he hung up the phone receiver back into its red metal case and latched it shut. Johnny paused in his furious mopping. "Leave those charged up for me, would ya? I'd like to use them on Chet's head.." DeSoto made a face, and put the EKG and defibrillator cases away. He then drew out the resuscitation apparatus and a clean rag from the stow. He turned on the oxygen flow and tested the mask on himself at the middle liter delivery rate. It was patent. Satisfied, he turned it off and wiped out the inside of the rubber face mask with a flourish. "Sounds like we all need a vacation.." he told Johnny with an angry mumble. Gage glommed onto that idea eagerly, suddenly very unangry and excited. "That's it. That's it right there.. I don't think any of us has gone on one since last Christmas, and it's what? Mid-May now?" "Yep." said a confused Roy at Johnny's sudden about face mood change. He added the drug box to his array of gear to check out on the floor. He started to inventory their whole set of supplies against a check marked laminated card stuck with a magnet to the ceiling of the gear stow compartment. "Maybe we SHOULD just get away somehow. You know, re-bond with each other or something. It might do away with some of this wall climbing we've been doing lately." "I wouldn't go so far as to say that any of us needs to do that, Roy. It's more like, needing to do another activity that's not so my-life-depends-on-you-to-do- the-right-thing kind of thing." Johnny said, slowing down his mopping thoughtfully. It was the calmest Roy had seen him since he fell out of his chair. DeSoto smacked his lips in agreement. "Ok, where can we go that's cheap enough so the gas prices won't kill us off?" DeSoto asked. "I don't know.. Uh,..Up north for a little skiing?" DeSoto shook his head. "Stoker, Cap and Marco hate the cold. That's why they moved to California." "How about a little mountain fishing then?" Gage threw out. "Nope. We've gone twice and have gotten saddled with medical emergencies happening. And thoroughly stuck with saving all the locals.." "Oh, that's right. I'd forgotten." Then his face brightened. "I know.. why don't we all go to a hiking camp? We've never done that before." "Where is there a park that's close?" DeSoto asked. "The nearest state park I know of is in Santa Rosa County." "We don't have to go far to find someplace really good, Roy. The place I'm thinking of is only twenty two miles away." Johnny asked. "Where's that?" asked DeSoto, scratching his chin. Johnny pointed westward, out the open garage door. "Catalina Island, pal. Didn't the Catalina Island Conservancy finally buy up the whole interior to save it for posterity and all the wildlife?" |
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"Yeah, I think they did it last year. They're putting in a pier eventually." Roy said. "Then why don't we go there? It's close, wild, and as far away from firefighting as you can get." "I don't know, Johnny. Does everybody even have camping equipment handy?" "If they don't, we know we both do. We can share with em. And maybe we can even get in some rented hang gliding time, too. All you need are a pair of inexpensive permits to go inside Catalina so the Coast Guard knows that you're there." Roy looked skeptical at his partner, pausing in his count of paper sealed narcotic syringes. "I'm still not so sure it's the best idea." he said thoughtfully. "Roy, why not go? We can go for just a couple of days. Let's set it up for the middle of next week. We all have that stretch off anyway for that firefighter convention L.A. ended up cancelling on us." Gage said. "Boring time to get unintentional leave, for there's no live ball games set on the bill for then. There'll be nothing for anybody to do except sit at home and twiddle some thumbs." ::Spoken like a true bachelor..:: mused Roy. Then he spoke up again. "Ok,..I'm in. I'll leave it up to you to approach the guys since going to the island was your idea. I'm gonna be there anyway, because Chris's gonna be touring with his grandpa by plane who's a pilot by trade." "Is he now?" Gage grinned with surprise. "I've already been made to promise that I'll let those two fly around by themselves on all the fair weather days." "What about Joanne and your youngest?" asked Johnny. "My daughter's not into that kind of thing. She'd rather stay home and be domestic." DeSoto smiled. "And-and Joanne's simply content just being with her, too, while she studies her english writing and takes ballet." "Then it's settled. We're all going for an excursion into the great wild out of doors. It's gonna be fun, Roy. I just know it." DeSoto returned a mildly excited grin. "I think you're right. I can't wait. Now the guys'll finally be able to meet some of my family. Chris's sure growing up fast these days." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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************************************************** From : Cory Anda <andacory@hotmail.com> Sent : Monday, May 22, 2006 11:26 PM Subject : Turn About.. It was three hours later and Johnny was impressed that the rest of the gang actually warmed to the idea of a camping getaway. Chet had a few words on that matter. "I'll go as long as you pay for my ferry, camping and hang glider fees. I'm strapped for cash this week because of paying property taxes, remember?" Gage scowled. "All right. Fine." he replied from where he was regarding Boot with intense, feigned disinterested scrutiny. "I'll pick up your part of the fees. Are you happy now?" he said, without looking away from the shaggy, equally eye to eye glaring station dog. Kelly didn't answer him. Instead, he made a face. "What are you doing to him?" Chet asked about Johnny's studying an increasingly emotional, uncomfortable Boot. Gage rubbed his face with frowning irritation. "I'm trying to figure out why Boot doesn't seem to like me." Roy snorted around his sipping from a coffee mug. "Maybe that's why he doesn't like ya." Johnny ignored both his coworkers and reached out a hand absently to stroke Boot's head. The dog gave a short growl of warning as he immediately leaped down off the kitchen chair he had been sitting on and fled for another part of the station. "See?" Gage scoffed, throwing a hand in the direction Boot had departed. Marco had some sympathy. "I don't know, Johnny. I've seen you and Boot squaring off over nothing through three of his station visits now and I still can't believe you two aren't getting along." Captain Stanley offered up his view. "Maybe you're just trying too hard with him, Gage. Try acting like you're his best friend. Spoil him a little." "I do. I do.." Johnny insisted, pouring himself a cup of coffee from Roy's pot grumpily. "I bought him a bone from the butcher's last week, didn't I? And what did he do? He buried it out in the yard out back and peed on it." Kelly and Cap and Roy chuckled. |
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Stoker said. "Maybe he was saving it for later by marking his territory." Lopez was a bundle of suggestions, too. "What do you expect, Johnny? A bone's pretty slim pickings when you consider that he's probably used to getting stuffed on beef fillets from the firefighters in all the other stations he goes to see on his neighborhood rounds." Johnny refused to be appeased. "Maybe I should go in there right now.." he said, jerking a thumb at the doorway leading to the apparatus bay,.."and drag a rope around in an invitation to play." "Good luck." coughed Hank. "You can't just pick and choose your friends, Johnny, and expect them to reciprocate. They have to pick you, too. It's a two way street." "Well in Boot's case. It's more like a dead end alley." sighed Johnny. Roy looked up from his plate of nachos and smiled. "Why don't you give Boot a little more time? I think he might be like a cat in this case. If you ignore him completely, he'll hate it and double over backwards to become pals with you." "You think so?" Gage asked, brightening. "I know so." said Chet from the couch. "That's what worked for me." "Chet, you don't know anything. I don't know why I should even listen to y---" Gage mumbled through tight, angry lips. The station tones went off. ##Station 51. Altered level reported on a man at the supermarket. 1719 South Caine. 1719 South Caine. Cross street Burnett. Time out : 9:56.## reported L.A. The whole gang leaped out of their seats and ran for their vehicles. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- On the way to the call, Gage rubbed his chin around his helmet's strap. "Which kind of rescue call is worse, Roy? This one were going on right now? Or whenever we roll on a domestic disturbance?" "It's hard to say." said DeSoto tracking the traffic around them as he drove the squad through busy intersections. "More of a toss up. I guess it depends on what the situation happens to be in the first place. If it's just two newlyweds having their first dish throwing argument, I don't ever have a problem with it. But if it's ever kids getting used as a punching bag..." he let his words trail off. "Yeah." said Gage, sighing. "I'm hoping our man's just some bum for the drunk tank. I'm not in the mood for any excitement this morning." Roy looked over at his partner. "Don't tell me Boot's starting to bother you. Boot's just being.. well, Boot. Nothing to eat your stomach out over." "That's easy for you to say. He lets you pet him." Gage glared. A blast on the airhorn from the Ward LaFrance behind them made both paramedics look into their sideview mirrors quickly. "Huh.. I wonder what Cap wants." Johnny said as he got the hint to switch over to their station's private truck to truck band. "Go ahead, Cap." he said into the hand radio mic. ##I just got off the horn with L.A.P.D. They're gonna be delayed getting to our call for at least five minutes. Looks like we're gonna be the ones first in. They have a 211 in progress at the bank a mile down the road.## "Ok, Cap. Thanks for the heads up." replied Johnny and he switched back to the station dispatching channel on the main frequency. "So much for peaceful Sunday mornings." he grumped. "Look on the bright side, Johnny. We're not working a useless junkyard fire or anything." DeSoto grinned. "Shhh.." Gage hissed. "Or you'll jinx us for real." Roy lifted a puzzled face. "Now how does that work?" he whispered to himself as he gripped the steering wheel more tightly for a turn off the freeway. Soon, they were there. It wasn't hard spotting where to park the squad and engine. A grocery store manager wearing a bright yellow produce apron was standing in the middle of the widest part of the parking lot, surrounded by a couple of bag carrying housewives, gossipping about some spectacle unfolding right in front of them. Roy and Johnny pulled up into the middle of all of them while Stoker angled the Ward to block off the avenue's entrance to give themselves working room without a fresh crowd of cars being able to pull in. A squat Asian man in a long oversized gray T-shirt and very baggy black demin pants was seated in a wheel chair, out in the open, flailing his feet and arms like a palsy case. A pair of black sandals had been kicked off his bare feet and lay on the pavement. No one else seemed to want to go near him. |
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"Handicapped? Doesn't look like a seizure." puzzled Johnny as he and Roy got out of their light flashing squad to pull their medical gear. DeSoto rushed ahead and crouched down by the man, locking the chair's wheel brakes for safety to stop the man's aimless random spinning in the wheelchair. He lightly touched the man's still jerking, restless knee."Sir..? I'm Roy DeSoto, a paramedic from the Los Angeles Fire Department. This is my partner, Johnny Gage. Can you understand me? What seems to be the problem here?" he asked, sniffing breath coming from the man. The twenty something youth didn't seem to be able to focus on faces for very long but Roy found no sign of alcohol on the wind. Their patient smiled. "Hey.. whaz up? I...uh,..I..don't wanna cause.. I'm just trying to.. I..I.." he slurred. He continued to writhe rhythmically in the seat, like an impaired invalid. Captain Stanley, standing nearby, had removed his helmet. He cocked it under an arm. "Want the O2?" he asked Roy. DeSoto shook his head. "I don't think his confusion's new. Maybe a pre-existing condition. There doesn't appear to be any bruises on him." he said, carefully studying the man. He fell into orientation questions. "Sir,..can you tell me where you are?" "I'm..I'm at the super-- supermarket.." he twitched, still smiling and gyrating his arms and legs slowly with dyskinesia. Johnny wrapped a blood pressure cuff around the man's arm. "What day is it?" "Saturday.." he guessed wrong. Gage and Roy exchanged significant looks. "And the time?" Roy said, taking the man's pulse. "Three thirty... I.. look.. I wanted to get some pizza.. Is that a crime?" asked the fuzzy man in mild cooperation. His smile wavered from blandness then back to an absent grin, in wavering cycles. Roy tried to get the man to focus on him visually with a penlight but he couldn't seem to connect with him long enough to hold eye to eye contact. "Ok.. it's all right. We're here to help you out, mister. Just try to relax. Do you have any I.D on you? We're gonna need one for our report so we can treat you." "S--Sure." said the small Asian man in the white baseball cap. "Here." he fumbled into a front pants pocket for a nylon wallet. He couldn't grip it too well, so Roy helped get it out so they could read it. "Victor Yang Lu Ngyuen from 123 Hwy. 101 North in Escondido. There's also his birthdate. March 7th, 1955." he said, passing it off to Johnny who had completed an initial set of vitals. Gage looked up. "Cap, could you ask around a bit on how he was found? Looks like he might be tripped out on something. There's no medical alert info or any old prescriptions in his wallet." "Sure thing, pal." said Hank. The store manager soon piped up. "He came into one of the side entrances of my store asking for a wheelchair, saying that his legs didn't work too well. So one of the cashiers gave him one. He was doing fine fellas, shopping and reaching down groceries ok. But then he started talking loudly to himself and spinning around like a space case. Made a mess of my cereal aisle when he dropped a jar of tomato paste. So we got him to pay, brought him out here, and then we called both you guys and the cops.." said the manager mildly. "You did the right thing. He's not himself." reassured Roy as he read the vital signs Johnny had written down. "Thank you for calling. We got it from here. Would you mind getting all these people to step back a little. The ambulance is gonna have to have some room to get through here." "Oh, sure.." said the manager and he began loudly herding up the curious housewives and other car parked folks drawn to the spectacle of a crew of firefighters ringed around a limb flailing man in a wheelchair. "Come on, folks. Go home or into the store. Nothing to see. Get outta here. Give the man some privacy ok? You're gawking like a gaggle of geese. Shoo.." he said, waving water wrinkled hands at them. |
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The crowd dispersed. Cap got on his handy talkie. "L.A. this is Engine 51. We've one male victim in a parking lot possibly being effected by a controlled or illegal substance. Respond an ambulance to our location. Do you have an ETA on P.D. to our scene?" ##Engine 51, this is L.A...A squad unit reports three minutes. I have sent an ambulance crew to your twenty. Their ETA is one minute.## Cap looked up at the sound of approaching sirens. "10-4. Engine 51 out." Mike Stoker moved the drug box nearer to Gage's knee. "Want me to set up an I.V.?" "Yeah. String up a 500 ml of normal saline in case the doctor orders some precautionary Narcan. Roy'll have his instructions in a few seconds." said Johnny, watching as Roy hailed Rampart and gave his medical report to Dr. Early. DeSoto set the phone on his shoulder and nodded at the sight of the bag Mike was tearing open with his teeth. "Yep. He wants it." Then he felt the man's skin. "It's hot, dry. Early thinks he may be suffering crystal meth overdose precursors." Gage sighed. "Not another one. I sure hope the cops bust that hidden neighborhood lab around here soon or those dealers are gonna end up killing somebody for sure." "Well, at least it's not gonna be him today.." said Roy, rubbing down a place on the man's arm not already riddled with track mark scars and shallow, self inflicted nail scratched pock marks. The man continued to smile but didn't have the ability to hold still for his I.V. start. It took both Marco and Mike to hold his arm down long enough for the running inserted catheter to be taped firmly to an arm board. Gage took another B.P. once the light Naloxone dose and a little IM Thiamine had been delivered. "Still up. 172 over 110. Pulse 130 and bounding.." he sighed. "Early wants a glucose stick to rule out hyperglycemia." Roy told him. "I'll get it." said Johnny reaching into the drug box at his feet. He moved aside long enough for the two newly arrived ambulance attendants to move their gurney close to the wheel chair. "Wait a second while we draw some blood for a glucose check. He's junked out, but cooperating." Both the men nodded. They concentrated on preparing the low bed's sheets and blanket to receive their patient. Roy read the strip on the glucometer once the blood drop had soaked through. "Normal. He's at 100. At least he's been eating here. Right, Mr. Ngyuen?" "Yeah.. yeah.. had some salad. Wanted some pizza.. Did I get any?" he asked muzzily, still writhing restlessly in the wheelchair with slow jerks and starts. The smile returned, full and beaming. Stoker had his hands full guarding the I.V. board which he held out in the air in front of the man's chest. "Yeah, you did. Take it easy, sir. Soon, you'll be at the hospital." he told him. The man just grinned, his emotional reactions strangely child-like and at odds with the rest of his shimmeying body. Soon, the man was stretched out onto the gurney and strapped in. Mike helped lower the man's head down onto the pillow. "Did anybody grab his sandals?" "Yeah, I put them back on his feet." said Marco. "I gave him his I.D., too. His wallet's in his hand." "Ok... Roy, I'll ride in with him." Gage said, after he completed patching the man's four limb leads into the EKG monitor. "He's only sinus tach with slightly elevated T waves." "You sure?" asked DeSoto. "Yeah, he's not gonna fight." Johnny said. "Just look at him." he grinned. The man was humming and completely off into a deeper lala land. "Ok,. I'll grab the squad." Roy said, retrieving his helmet off of the ground. He left for the truck to start its ignition. Hank issued orders for Chet and Marco to clean up all the needle covers and paper wrappers off the ground while Gage and the attendants blanketed the man and gathered the medical gear together. Then Stanley asked, "Are we done here, Johnny? If so, I'll put the engine back into service." "Yeah, we're done. Go on ahead, Cap. We'll be back at the station in twenty." "Ok. I'll tell L.A. and P.D. that you're going ahead with transporting." said Cap. "Let's go, gang." he nodded at Chet, and Marco when they were through with their task. Hank, Kelly and Lopez climbed into the engine and shut the doors. "Stay with him a sec, Mike? We're gonna put this stuff into the ambulance." Johnny asked Stoker. Stoker nodded, crouching down by the nearly sleeping man's head to monitor his breathing. Soon he was quite alone with him. Then suddenly, it happened. @@@ @@@ @@@ @@@ @@@ Mike blinked and found himself face to face with the muzzle end of a steely blue black .38 mm revolver, pointed at his nose. And the gun was firmly in the hands of loopy, grinning, tripped out Mr. Ngyuen. "Like my piece, mister? It's my ab- absolute favorite. Just got it last week." he said proudly, still firmly lost somewhere in his addiction high and wearing his kindergartner smile. Stoker's heart stopped in his throat and he froze in panic. He found he could only squeak. |
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************************************************** From : Cassidy Meyers <killashandrarey@hotmail.com> Sent : Thursday, May 25, 2006 7:07 PM Subject : Blink of An Eye.. Time seemed to stand still for Mike Stoker. ::Move!:: he thought desperately from someplace very small and deep inside of his head. ::That gun's right now and it's very, very real!:: Stoker struggled mentally through a thickening haze of tarry numbness and the most absolute, paralyzing fright that he had ever known. Long, terrifying seconds etched themselves in time with perfect clarity in his mind.....the glint of shiny bullets cocked in the unspun barrel as they caught and trapped his gaze....that idiot stupid, mild smile still plastered on the ill man's face... ::I'm gonna die.:: shivered Stoker. Mike blinked a couple of times, drawing in a ragged breath, trying to talk. Then the gun was gone, concealed once more drunkenly under a neatly belted blanket fold. The Asian youth actually yawned and folded two hands beneath his head. Mike found his mouth had become icy and dry and he still couldn't speak at all when Johnny and the attendants returned to his side to start wheeling away their patient. ::Do something!:: Mike's mind raged, but he felt utterly helpless. There were still dozens of people in the area in close range of the gurney. ::But what?! :: another part of himself demanded. ::Somebody's gonna get shot if we try to restrain him. He might go superhuman on us if it's PCP he's on.:: His legs locked, Mike could only watch as the man was casually loaded up into the Mayfair ambulance by his coworkers. Then he had it. A way out of everything. Stoker felt the snick of the stretcher wheels clicking inside as they mated into the floor locks through the skin of the ambulance under one of his sweaty hands. Then Mike took two steps to the rig's front bumper until he was sure that the driver could see him clearly, and then he collapsed to the ground onto his side, faced away from the truck, not moving. His helmet clattered away from him with a satisfying clunk and skid across the hot asphalt. The driver startled, turning to the back. "Hey! Paramedic! Fireman down!" "What?" came Johnny's voice in the back. "I'll be right out!" |
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Mike heard the driver get out of the ambulance and felt him crouch down quickly near his head to roll him over for a listening check at his nose and mouth. Stoker reached up fast and grabbed him by the shoulders, making him cry out. He muffled the man's face with his arm. "I'm ok. This was a ruse to get you out of the cab. Mac, get your partner to come out with Johnny! That man has a gun!" Then he laid down once more on the pavement, as limp as he could get himself, around his frantic state. Mac lifted only one horrified glance back at the Mayfair as he started shouting. "Get over here, the both of ya! He's quit breathing on me!" yelled the burly attendant, playing along desperately. He set a pair of shaking hands on Mike's face, tilted it up, and pretended to begin a ventilation by bending over. The shout and pose worked. Stan and Gage flew out of the rig with the defibrillator and a demand valve resuscitator, along with the biophone. "Mike?" Johnny startled when he saw who was on the ground. |
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Even as Stan and the paramedic got onto their knees over Stoker, Mac fled instantly for the back of the Mayfair. Seconds later, the older attendant quietly shut both of its rear doors with a reaching arm without raising his head to any window's level, locking them firmly closed. Then Mac crouch-ran in a zig zagging dodge for 51's moving fire engine, just pulling away from them in a maneuver meant to reopen traffic into the supermarket. He leaped onto the side runner board to try and flag her oblivious crew down. But the gang didn't hear him at all as the Ward started a lazy repositioning circle towards the far end of the parking lot. Mac was carried unknowingly away, unable to tell the firemen what was happening just behind them. Helplessly, he watched also, as Roy DeSoto turn the squad onto the boulevard, on the start of his way to Rampart. Stoker shot up off the ground when he finally felt two new pairs of hands on him. His paralysis was gone, now fueled by fear for his companions. "The junkie's got a loaded gun in his pocket! Get into cover..now!" he told them and he instantly flipped over and started crawling on his hands and knees, making a hasty beeline for the closest row of parked cars in the lot surrounding them. Gage and Stan hesitated for only a few seconds. "What the h--?!" Johnny blurted throwing himself down onto his stomach to follow after Stoker. "Stan, grab the biophone with ya. I left my g*dd*mned HT in the ambulance.." Soon, all three of them were under a tiny yellow Volkswagon bug, keeping in line of sight of the silent and shut Mayfair and all the medical gear lying open and abandoned near it. Already, another curious spectator crowd began to build. "No..no..no.. Why don't they just go away?" Mike hissed. Johnny was stunned, ignoring everybody but Stoker. "Mike, are you sure? How did you find out that he had one?" Stoker let his head drop onto his forearms right where all of them lay on their stomachs and he started trembling. "He pulled it out on me and pointed the revolver right at my face, Johnny. I was n-nose to nose with it. I'm more than sure." Gage eyed him without convincing comprehension. Mike lost his temper. "J*s*s Chr*st..Why don't you believe me? I was almost killed a minute ago!" Gage started cursing. "F*ck*ng baggy clothes. I never knew. You know we can't hands on survey a fully conscious patient..." Johnny spat, rapidly setting up the biophone. Then he got a good look at Stoker's complexion. "Mike, are you feeling ok?" "No.. I mean, yes." gasped Stoker. "Uh,...does wanting to throw up count?" "Just stay down if you wanna black out. Stan'll watch you." Gage told him. Then he started broadcasting. "Rampart, this is Squad 51! We've a Code Yellow. Repeat, Code Yellow. I need a relay to our fire department dispatcher in L.A. immediately! I've a 10-95. Repeat a 10-95 at our scene!" Quickly, a base station listening Dixie McCall soon made the needed connection about the same time a window pounding Mac got through to Cap Marco, and Chet in Ward's cab to tell them about the same situation. Rapidly, Marco pulled the engine back into a broadsided angle to give Gage, Stoker, and Stan, the attendant, a clear route to safety behind its solid, protecting bulk. Then the whole gang and both the Mayfair attendants hunkered down against the engine to await the police who soon arrived in three squad cars, ordered in on silent reds, a minute later. Mike closed his eyes firmly so he wouldn't see the outcome of any standoff as the cops closed in on the Mayfair with all their weapons bristling cautiously into the air. ::Vince. Watch yourself out there. Don't get yourself killed.:: he wished fervently. He never even felt Johnny slip gripping fingers around his wrist to monitor his post reaction. |
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*************************************************** From: "Monster Moofie" <monstermoof4me@comcast.net> and "Patti Keiper" <theaterhost@voyagerliveaction.com> Subject: End and Beginning, The Debriefing Date: Thu May 25, 2006 8:29 pm Roy had received the radio transmission about a weapon at the supermarket. He returned there and parked in a safe spot and fidgetted with worry while he awaited an outcome. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Vince carefully opened the back of the Mayfair as he and another officer positioned themselves behind the doors. Peering around he saw the junkie flopped out, sleeping it off. A loud snore punctuated the silence. Vince carefully entered the ambulance and patted the blankets, locating the .38. Handing the gun off to the other officer, Vince pulled out his cuffs and quickly locked the man's wrist to the side of the gurney, repeating the steps with another pair of cuffs on the other side. He then called out, "John, Roy, all clear! He is cuffed and ready to go. Officer Jackson will ride in with you." Vince climbed out of the ambulance and was replaced by Jackson. Roy grabbed all the gear, climbed up in himself and checked the patient's vitals. He contacted Rampart, letting them know all was well and that they were on the way. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Johnny still had his fingers wrapped around Mike's wrist, monitoring his pulse. As soon as Vince called out and exited the ambulance, Mike's pulse changed drastically, his face turning a sickly gray. Johnny felt him start to go and switched from gripping his wrist to placing his hands under his armpits, lowering him to the ground as he fell. "Something tells me you're not faking it this time." Johnny said to the fading engineer. Gage didn't find a pulse easily the second time, he found one only higher up in the crook of Mike's elbow. "Just relax. It's over. Everybody's safe now, thanks to you." Cap, Marco and Chet quickly surrounded them, demanding to know what in the world was happening. Recovering from shock, Captain Stanley quickly asked Johnny, "What gear do you need?" Cap looked down from the peek mirror he had cleverly angled towards the now un-beseiged ambulance. "How's Mike doing? The other guy's still quiet for now." Chet grabbed a blanket out of the squad, opening it quickly and offering it to Johnny. Stoker started shivering again as he tried to nod that he had heard them. Gage smiled as he opened Mike's collar where he lay on the ground. He studied the engineer while Stoker stared out at nothing in particular. "He's a little shocked, but ok, Cap." "H*ll, I would be to if I'd been in his shoes." Hank replied. "I was there once before, Cap. Remember Vince's concussion?" Gage asked. "How could I forget that? You almost got your head blown clean.." Hank broke off, very sensitive about Stoker's possible feelings right then. "Ah, well. Now's not exactly the nicest time to talk about that particular little adventure." Removing the blue uniform jacket he was wearing, Johnny placed it under Mike's head as he answered, "Let's get his feet elevated. It's just psychogenic shock. He had that gun in his face." Grabbing the blanket from Chet he covered Mike with it. |
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Chet kneeled down by Mike facing Johnny while Cap and Marco squatted down one on each side. Only about thirty seconds had passed before Mike's eyes fluttered back open. He moaned. Then he rocketed up, turning away from Johnny. Vomiting, he spewed his recently ingested meal all over an unsuspecting Chet. Completely shocked, Chet could only sit and gape, mouth open. Recognizing that Mike was pulling out of it, Johnny lightly quipped, "Well, Mike, looks like to me you caught the Phantom sleeping." Turning serious again, he instructed, "Lie back down here while I check your vitals. I think you're fine but I know Dr. Brackett might want to see you." Now completely embarrassed, Mike began to protest, only to be silenced by a stern, "Mike!" from his Captain. Mike resumed his prone position and allowed Johnny to verify his recovering status. Chet, meanwhile, hadn't said a word. He had merely risen, removed his uniform's outer jacket and grabbed a rag to clean himself up, leaving Mike to wonder what the conniving Phantom would do when things calmed down. "Do you need another ambulance for him, Johnny?" Captain Stanley asked. In spite of his paramedic's assurances, he was still extremely worried about his engineer. "No, Cap. He can ride in with you. His system just had a small shock. I'm not worried now." Giving Mike a hand up, he stepped back and allowed Cap and Marco to steer the embarrassed engineer to one of the passenger seats in the engine. "Mike, We'll check you out a little better once we all get back to the station. Let me know when that nausea starts to go away, ok?" Cap was finally convinced. "Get Stoker into the engine as soon as the cops have all of the information they need from us and cover him up with our turnouts if you have to, to counteract his chilling symptoms. Johnny, I promise I'll get Chet to make him start talking about it on the way back to quarters. And I can put in a call for a CISM counselor to help him out if he still feels like it, once we get back there." "Sounds like a plan." sighed Gage unhappily. He turned back to Mike and kept his hands on his shoulders just to let him know that he was still there and that he was absolutely safe in his arms. "Easy, Stoker. We're all right here with ya." |
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Then Johnny picked up the HT and jumped in the squad where Roy used to be and drove off to Rampart after Roy's departing ambulance. --------------------------------------------------------- Detective Lt. Ron Crockett waited patiently for Gage and DeSoto to finish a routine vital signs check on their station's engineer. Finally, he couldn't hold his questions in any longer. "Now, let me get this straight. None of you had a clue about this character having a weapon on him, at all?" Johnny got angry on Mike's behalf. "No, detective. We didn't have a clue. I'm telling you, this guy was totally happy we were there to help him out of his crazy predicament. Isn't that right, Mike?" he asked, pulling the blood pressure cuff off of Stoker's arm. "Roy, he's finally back to normal. 132/98." "Same here. Pulse's 56." said Roy, then he spoke again. "Go eat something once we're done here, ok?" he told Mike no nonsense. "I'm sure Marco'll be pleased as punch if you stuff yourself to the gills on his mother's cooking. He's been wanting to do that to you ever since we got back here." "I will." grinned Stoker shyly. "But I'm still mad at myself for not seeing the gun on that guy. I was right next to him." Cap and the gang spoke up protectively in a rush once more about how they all had been duped when Vince Howard, the policeman, spoke loudly over them from where he was butt perched on Cap's office desk. "Now, boys. Don't go blaming yourselves in the slightest for that kind of oversight. Police officers miss weapons that are located in a suspect's front pants pockets all the time. And sometimes, even after very thorough body searches have already been conducted. It didn't help that this junkie was looking like Fat Albert in clothes sizes five times too big for his body frame." said the easy going police officer. Detective Crockett rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "What I'd like to know is why the paramedics didn't do a head to toe exam on the man once he was placed on the gurney." he wondered to Vince. Cap sighed and leaned back in his chair. "We don't have the authority to do that typically, lieutenant. Not when someone's completely conscious and talking to us without signs of obvious injury..." |
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Roy spoke up. "We both agree with our captain there." DeSoto said quickly, letting Crockett know about his and Johnny's viewpoint. "A routine medical call usually doesn't need us to go into that kind of detail since the patient can usually tell us what's going on verbally." "And even if that kind of exam's needed, we still have to ask permission to do so every step of the way, like,..' Do you want some oxygen? Can I take your blood pressure?'" explained Johnny. Police Detective Ron Crockett wasn't content. "You mean you fellas decided on your own not to wait for the police for backup even though this guy was clearly altered mentally?" asked Detective Crockett sharply. "That was stupid. Doesn't your fire department policies state that at any time a patient displays incompetent faculties, a police officer should be on the scene to oversee things to assure safety measures are being taken in case the patient needs to be physically restrained?" All the firemen in the fire station office shifted uncomfortably and then they got angry. Fast. They all started talking at once. "Now wait just a gosh darned minute here!.." said Gage. "That would mean we'd have to call the cops for even the simplest fainting case." "That's a little uncalled for.." said Roy. "Most of our patients are always half out. And those are just the non-trauma related ones." Chet bristled. "We saved ourselves this morning just fine." "Cap, did I do something wrong?" asked Stoker. "No way in h*ll, Mike. You did everything absolutely by the book. If the fault's anyone's, all of us are guilty for missing the danger. Including the witnesses who called us out to help him in the first place." Hank growled. Vince held up appeasing hands in defense of himself and his stern faced African American supervisor. "Boys, boys. We're not playing the bad guys with this little meeting here all right? That was never our intent. We're just trying to get a clearer understanding about what happened today so that maybe,.. just maybe, all of us can keep this from ever happening again." Silence reigned in the office, except for Boot's anxious whining. Mike Stoker picked him up and began petting him to quiet both his stress reactions and the dog's. "Shhh, easy boy. We're just talking. I think.." he glared at the detective. |
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Crockett threw up his hands in exasperation with a huge frustrated sigh and placed both hands on his hips firmly. "Ok,..looks like we're gonna get nowhere with this informal inquiry. Howard, we're not helping here. Let's go hit the streets after filing their report and do something that'll make a real difference to someone else, huh?" he said sarcastically. Then Ron left the office in a huff, his brusk manner very apparent. Vince Howard rubbed his hands together. "Sorry for that. We both spent a real unpleasant last couple of hours on this case. It doesn't make it any easier on any of us that my police coworker had to handcuff your patient's legs, too, after he woke up and freaked out for seeing us standing over him. His attending doctor just about chewed us up and spit us out for doing it." Stoker looked away, putting a hand to his mouth, stifling powerful emotions. "He became dangerous?" "Yeah. And it didn't take much to provoke him." replied Howard. Cap set a gentle hand on Mike's arm in support. "Are we done? All my men and I want to do is forget this whole incident for a while so we can get on with the rest of our workshift and start to begin to feel better about this whole horrid mess just as soon as we possibly can." Vince rose. "You're absolutely right. Nothing else can be done here today. Any protocol changes in your department and mine regarding this kind of rescue call gone bad will have to be hashed out by higher paid administrators and other bureaucrats. I'm sorry I let Detective Crockett inflict himself on you the way he did. I had no choice in the matter. See you fellas, later." he said moving to the door. Then he turned back. "Mr. Stoker, if I can show you a few moves on how to disarm someone with a gun for later, give me a call." he said, handing Mike Stoker an L.A.P.D. business card. "It seems that requests for that kind of training's reaching me more and more from all you paramedics and firemen lately. It kinda makes me mad that no one ever asks me to do this until something really bad happens first." "I'll definitely look you up for that lesson after we're back from our vacation." replied Mike with sincerity. Vince actually smiled, as glad to change the subject as the fire gang was. "Oh? Where are you fellas off to?" "Santa Catalina.. We're all leaving Saturday for ten days camping and doing the usual touristy things people from the mainland normally do out there." chuckled Cap. "Well, hug a Beechey's ground squirrel for me when you see one. They're real friendly on the island." waved Vince. "I had two of them who liked getting into my backpack all the time looking for food when I was on a hiking trip three years ago." "I promise you we'll watch out for them." said Chet, waving back. "No one's gonna steal a meal from me and get away with it." "No, you'll only wear one on occasion." quipped Gage, sotto voce. No one heard him at all then, and he smiled at his own humor. Vince nodded, putting on his helmet and left the station. Hank looked up when the side doorbell rang. "That'll be Gloria Schaefer from Headquarters, the CISM. Kelly, would you go let her in? We've all got lots to get out and talk with her about, isn't that right, Mike?" Stoker sighed. "Let's get this thing over with." he said, rising. He had never been a fan of crisis debriefings. It meant admitting weaknesses. ::And no firefighter will ever show weakness to anyone. Not if he can help it.:: thought the engineer. Gage and Roy patted him on the back in encouragement as they all left for the coffee pot in the kitchen and the formal introductions soon to come between them and the crisis counselor. |
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