He ran as fast as his feet could carry him.

 

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"Spills and Thrills"

By Ross

 

He ran as fast as his feet could carry him. But, even ‘The Galloping Greyhound’ couldn’t travel faster than the speed of sound. Which is what the exploding gas cloud, from an overturned tanker truck, was currently traveling at. 

The blast’s speeding and expanding shockwave quickly overtook the fleeing fireman and carried him along in its wake. 

"Umph!" fireman/paramedic, John Gage, grunted, as a wall of compressed air rammed him from behind and sent him sailing across six lanes of California freeway.

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Upon hearing Gage’s shouted warning, Captain Hank Stanley, and the rest of Station 51’s fire crew, had immediately taken shelter behind their respective rigs. 

The crouching rescuers witnessed their fellow firefighter’s ‘unscheduled flight’.  

51’s crew continued to watch, from ‘relative’ safety, as their still-tumbling colleague’s limp and lifeless body finally came to rest, in the shadow of an overpass pillar. 

Four of the five firemen straightened up and started racing toward their fallen comrade. 

The injured paramedic’s partner began pulling their Squad’s equipment compartments open.

_______________________________________________________

 

Speaking of the injured paramedic… 

Over the incessant ‘ringing’ sound in his ears, John Gage could hear footsteps, rapidly approaching his position. 

His Captain was the first to reach him. "John! You okay, pal?" Hank anxiously inquired, dropping down onto the pavement beside the blast victim’s twisted torso. Much to his amazement, the disheveled young man’s brown eyes fluttered open. He grabbed the paramedic by his shoulders and prevented him from moving. 

A huge, lopsided grin suddenly appeared on the displaced paramedic’s face. "Ma-an!" Gage exclaimed, still sounding a bit breathless from his ordeal. "What a…cra-azy…wi-ild…ride!"  

Hank released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and swapped some relieved smiles with his engine crew.  

"He’s obviously delirious," Mike Stoker insincerely assessed. 

Marco Lopez’s smile broadened a bit. "How can you possibly tell?"  

"Good point, Marco!" Chet Kelly chimed in. "Gage exists in a constant state of delirium." 

Gage gave the taunting trio annoyed glares, but the grin never left his face. 

The ‘delirious’ fireman’s distraught partner finally came trotting up. "Johnny?" The late arrival lowered himself, and his heavy equipment cases, down to Johnny’s level. The winded paramedic knelt there for a few moments, staring at his still-grinning buddy in both relief…and disbelief—and confusion. "You hurt anywhere?" 

His panting pal’s grin broadened and he began to shake his head. 

"Don’t move!" DeSoto sternly ordered. The paramedic placed the palm of his left hand on top of his trauma victim’s still-helmeted head and held it in place. "A simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ will suffice." 

"No," his buddy obligingly replied. "I’m not hurt anywhere. The experiment appears to have worked." 

‘Possible head injury…’ DeSoto promptly diagnosed. "The…‘experiment’?" 

Gage was about to nod. But the hand clamped to his helmet forced him to reconsider. "Yeah. You know how we’re always pulling plastered people out of completely crushed cars…and they never seem to have so much as a scratch on 'em?" 

All five of his firemen friends were forced to nod. 

"Well, I just made like I was a drunk driver. I just kept telling myself to relax. Yah know, just ‘roll with the punches’…an’ ‘go with the flow’." 

DeSoto exchanged a dazed glance with each of his equally dumbstruck shiftmates. 

Hank Stanley was the first to find his voice. "Yeah…well…There’s an ambulance on the way. And, when it arrives, Roy, here, is gonna roll you onto a gurney and flow you on over to Rampart—where you will remain, until you have been cleared for duty." 

The victim’s grin had been replaced with a grimace. "Ah-uh, Cap—"  

"—Just keep telling yourself to relax!" Stanley strongly urged—er, ordered, interrupting Gage, right in mid-gripe. Hank gave the glum paramedic’s shoulders a couple of comforting pats. The Captain then climbed stiffly to his feet and turned to his engine crew. "What d’yah say, we get back to work, gentlemen..." 

Hank and his men started heading for Engine 51 and their hoses. 

DeSoto began gathering his trauma victim's vitals. 

John Gage gazed glumly up at the underside of the overpass. "Well," the paramedic grumbled, to nobody in particular, "it was fun...while it lasted." 

Roy caught his ‘wild and crazy’ partner's quiet comment. 'Make that a definite head injury...'

 

The End ;)

 

 

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By Sharon

He ran as fast as his feet could carry him. It was proving difficult though, as he was tired, hot, sweaty, feeling dizzy and becoming disoriented, but he knew his life could depend on it. The building was going to flash over soon and they needed to get out. Roy had been just ahead of him but he’d lost sight of him. He was sure that it was just because of the smoke however, because he could still hear his partner. So many thoughts always ran through his head at moments like these. Why hadn’t he found someone to settle down with and start a family? Why did he always let Chet get the last laugh? Why hadn’t he taken the captain’s exam yet? So many thoughts and yet so little time to answer them. The funny thing was, once he knew he and Roy were out safely, all those questions would disappear. The questions no matter important to him. He’d just be happy

 

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New! 05/17/10

No Escape

By Audrey W.

 

He ran as fast as his feet could carry him. But he was sure it wasn’t fast enough.

He always knew one day he’d set off one water bomb too many and it looked like that day had come.  

He didn’t dare look over his shoulder to see if he was safe. That would certainly slow him down and it just wasn’t worth the risk. The fact he didn’t hear footsteps behind him was enough for now.  

Chet shot into the dayroom from the apparatus bay and came to a sliding halt when he saw John Gage standing near the kitchen counter, his hair and face dripping wet, the front of his blue uniform shirt soaked. To say he looked displeased was an understatement.  

Chet glanced back over his right shoulder toward the doorway he’d come in from, then looked forward at the wet paramedic again with questioning eyes.  

Gage pointed behind himself. Chet slowly nodded in understanding as a wan smile formed on his face and he shrugged slightly.  

He never counted on John taking an alternate route through the back door.

 

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