Disclaimer: The characters don’t belong to me, of course. They belong to Universal and Mark VII.

Just Another Monday

By: Vanessa Sgroi

The odd growling rumble from beneath the bus gave little warning of the disaster to come. Most of the sleepy-eyed morning commuters didn’t even notice. Those who did chalked it up to the poor road conditions and went back to reading their newspapers or staring into space contemplating the workday ahead of them.

Without warning, the bus lurched and swayed to the left. The driver, in a desperate attempt to maintain control, yanked the steering wheel to the right. Sadly, he overcorrected and the unwieldy bus began to rock back and forth. It hit the shoulder of the road where a right front tire encountered a large pothole. From that moment on, the fates of those who boarded that bus were sealed. The vehicle tipped and began to roll. The breaking of glass, the crunching of metal, and the screams of those trapped inside all combined into a cacophony of horror.

* * *

Roll call had just come and gone smoothly for Station 51. For a change, the each member of the A-shift crew was in a good mood. Even Johnny and Chet were behaving themselves, giving the rest of the guys a break from their bickering.

DeSoto and Gage had just laid their hands on the equipment stored within the squad to perform the routine morning inspection when the klaxons sounded.

“Station 51, Station 10, Squad 45, bus accident, Transit Way Extension – Northbound, near mile marker 35. That’s Transit Way Extension – Northbound, near mile marker 35. Time out 8:16.

The paramedics jumped into the squad and listened as the Captain acknowledged the call. The broad station door inched its way up as Hank handed the slip of paper to the paramedics and took his place on the engine. Seconds later, Roy guided the squad into traffic.

“I have a feeling this is gonna be a bad one, Roy.” Johnny’s typical exuberant tone was grim.

“Yeah, I know. I’m betting it’s a commuter bus full of people. And, somehow I don’t think this is just a fender bender.”

The fifteen minutes it took to reach the accident scene seemed like a lifetime to Roy and Johnny. They both knew that every minute counted in situations like this.

* * *

All it took was one look at the bus upon their arrival to realize their predictions were all too true. From what the paramedics could see, the bus had crumpled like a tin can. It lay on its side, diagonally spanning both of the northbound lanes. Miraculously, when it had rolled the bus had only struck one other car that had been sharing the road at the time.

The two paramedics exited their vehicle and began grabbing their gear. The crew from the engine quickly joined them.

“Chet, Marco. Check for gas and get it hosed down if you find any. Then we’re gonna need all your help extricating the victims. Roy, John, let’s go see what we’ve got.”

As Captain Stanley spoke, Station 10 arrived on scene. Hank spoke briefly with the Captain from 10s before rejoining his paramedics.

The three men approached the bus, wincing at the crunching of glass beneath their boots. Randy Duval and Bruce Keene, the paramedics from 10s, quickly joined them. The team from 45s had not yet arrived. As the group drew near, they could hear soft moans and an occasional quiet curse coming from within.

“Cap, I think Roy and I should go in through one of the windows on top. We can triage and use our guys along with the engine crew from 10s to lift people out to the paramedics outside.”

“Sounds good. Let’s get to it.”

At that moment, Chet and Marco jogged over and reported that no gas leaks had been found. Roy and John carefully hoisted themselves onto what was now the top of the bus. They reached down to retrieve the equipment as Chet and Marco lifted it up to them.

The two peered into the nearest shattered window.

“Oh, man. Roy, you were right. It was a full bus. There must be 35 to 40 people in there.”

“Let’s see if there’s a clear place to enter.”

They found it at the next window. Johnny carefully removed what little jagged glass remained in the frame. Roy lowered himself down, grabbed the equipment as his partner handed it through, and then stepped aside to make room for Gage as he dropped through the opening.

The two paramedics stared regretfully at the chaos before them. Twisted bodies and tangled metal lay everywhere liberally mixed with crumpled newspapers and Styrofoam cups. Briefcases lay upended and open, their contents long since expelled. Coffee and blood mingled creating a grotesque mosaic on the seats and walls.

“Johnny, let’s split up. You go toward the front of the bus, I’ll take the back.”

Gage nodded and took a couple of steps before crouching down to check on his first two victims. A visual inspection told him these two were dead, but he checked for pulses anyway. Finding none, he inched over to the next person. The woman moaned and opened her eyes just as he reached for her neck. The dark-haired paramedic quickly assessed her condition.

“Now, you just lay still. We’ll have you out of here as soon as we can. Can you tell me where you hurt?”

“Um . . . my foot, I think. And my head . . .”

“All right. Just take it easy. I’ll be back.”

Johnny continued on with the grim task before him.

* * *

Roy dropped his head dejectedly when he failed to detect a pulse on yet another victim. So far, he’d found four people dead and two who were critically injured and might not make it through extrication.

DeSoto stood up and moved toward another group of people. Ahead of him, he saw one of the victims suddenly sit up.

“Sir, you need to stay still. I’ll be over in just a minute to check you out.”

“I’m fine. I’m fine. When are you going to get us the hell out of here?”

“We’re working on that right now.”

“Well, you’re not moving fast enough. I want outta here now!” As the man spoke, he started to get to his feet.

“Please, sir, you need to sit back down and let me look at you.”

“I told you I’m FINE!”

“Sir, that’s not what the blood on your face is telling me.”

“Blood?” The belligerent gentleman touched a hand to his face and was shocked when he pulled it away covered in the sticky substance. Without uttering another sound, he plopped back down on the floor.

“I’ll be over there in a minute.”

Roy rapidly checked the next group of people and then proceeded over to the man he’d been talking to. He gave him a quick exam.

“I think you’ll be okay. Head wounds bleed a lot. And, you probably have a concussion. Just sit tight, okay?”

The sullen man just grunted and then watched as the paramedic checked the rest of the people on his half of the bus. When Roy was finished, he made his way back toward his partner.

“Johnny, what have you got?”

Following Gage’s brief update, Roy keyed the HT and informed Captain Stanley of the situation they were facing.

* * *

After briefly assessing the situation, it was decided that removing the victims would be easier if they cut a hole in the bus, creating a “doorway”. While preparations were being made to do just that, Captain Stanley requested an additional squad and several ambulances be dispatched to the scene.

Because of the close confines, only two additional firemen could enter the bus to help extricate the victims. Marco and Chet dropped through the same window the paramedics had used while others fired up a K-12 and began creating the hole. Splitting into teams of two, the four men began to treat the most critically injured people first preparing to move them as soon as the opening was finished.

Johnny carefully removed some plastic seating off an unconscious middle-aged woman and dropped down next to her, wincing slightly as some glass bit into his knee.

“Marco, we need to get a c-collar on her.”

As Gage spoke, he felt something close around his ankle. Thinking it was some shifting debris; Johnny glanced down preparing to brush it aside. He was surprised to see it was a hand. Allowing his gaze to drift up, Gage discovered the hand belonged to a young woman and she had it tightly wrapped around his ankle. Turning slightly, he looked at her and spoke gently.

“Ma’am? We’ll be right there, okay?”

Her deep blue eyes continued to stare directly at him and her lips moved slightly. Johnny felt a brief connection when he met her gaze.

“Please.”

“Ma’am, we’re coming.”

The hand tightened and she whispered again.

“Please. Please, just fix my glasses. Want to see.”

Johnny noticed then that her eyeglasses had been knocked aside and were dangling from one ear. Stretching a bit, he leaned over to her and righted the glasses on her face. With that, her pink-tinted lips curved into a slight smile and she released her grip on the paramedic.

“Thank you.”

“We’ll be right back for you.” The dark-haired man’s comment was drowned out by a shouted “We’re through!” from the crew manning the K-12. Gage and Lopez quickly packaged up the middle-aged woman and delivered her to the crew waiting outside the bus. Wasting no time, the two men turned and hurried back into the bus. Johnny approached the blue-eyed woman prepared to get her out next.

“Okay, now it’s your turn.” Gage kept his voice light to ease any fear.

There was no response.

“Ma’am?”

Gage’s heart sank when he noticed her eyes were wide-open and unblinking.

“No . . .”

Though he knew it was pointless, he reached out and felt for a pulse. His eyes closed for a second when he didn’t find one.

“Johnny?”

Gage shook his head at Marco and they moved on.

The rest of the rescue passed in a blur of activity for Johnny Gage. Finally, the last living victim was out and Roy was accompanying him to the hospital, leaving Johnny to bring in the squad. By the time he reached Rampart, the dark-haired paramedic was practically numb. The adrenalin rush was long gone.

* * *

Gage slowly walked to the base station and grabbed a cup of coffee while waiting for his partner to meet him. After a couple of sips, he sat the cup down and stared into space.

“Hey, Johnny.” A soft feminine voice broke into his thoughts.

“Oh, hi, Dix. We’ve kept you guys busy this morning, huh?”

“You sure have. But, at least Harbor General was able to take half of the victims. We called in a few other doctors and held over some nurses and, all things considered, it’s gone smoothly.”

Roy joined them at the base station rubbing the back of his neck. He heaved a tired sigh and helped himself to coffee as well.

“That must have been some accident scene. You both look beat,” Dixie commented, seeing the fatigue weighing heavily on the two paramedics.

“Yeah, it was really rough,” Roy quickly agreed, “43 people on that bus and 18 died . . .”

Surprisingly, Johnny remained silent not jumping in as he usually would.

Roy looked at his partner in concern.

“Johnny, you okay?”

Again pulled from his reverie, Johnny nodded and said, “I’m fine. I’m goin’ to the Men’s Room. Be right back.”

Roy and Dixie watched the dark-haired man walk away.

When he returned minutes later, Roy immediately spoke up.

“What’s wrong with your leg?”

“Huh? What are you talkin’ about? There’s nothing wrong with my leg.”

“Then why are you limping?”

“Limping? I’m not lim . . .”

Rolling his eyes, Roy grabbed Johnny’s arm.

“C’mon, partner. Which way, Dix?”

“Room 4. I’ll get Joe.”

As they entered the designated treatment room, Johnny continued his protestations.

“Roy, I’m tellin’ ya, I wasn’t li . . .”

Joe Early entered the room.

“Tell that to him, Junior,” Roy stated, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb, “Hi, Doc.”

“Hi, Roy. Johnny. What can I do for you fellas?”

“Noth . . .”

“Johnny’s limping,” the blond-haired paramedic’s steady voice overrode that of his partner’s.

“Which leg?”

At Gage’s blank look, DeSoto answered.

“His left.”

Starting at Johnny’s foot, Dr. Early began examining the leg in question. Gage showed no reaction until the doctor reached his knee. He jumped and winced when he felt the doctor’s fingers touch the area in question.

“Johnny, roll up your pant leg. Let’s see what’s going on.”

The dark-haired paramedic did as asked and was surprised to see streaks of dried blood on his leg. As soon as his knee was revealed, it became quite clear where the blood had originated.

“Hmm, you did a good job there, Johnny. I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but it does look like you have some glass embedded in those cuts. We’ll get those cleaned and bandaged, and you’ll be on your way.”

As Doctor Early worked on plucking slivers of glass from the wounds, Roy silently watched his partner. The younger paramedic remained quiet and barely flinched at the doctor’s ministrations. A short time later, Early taped a bandage in place covering the paramedic’s knee.

“You’re all set, Johnny. Keep it clean and dry. If it gives you any trouble, get back in here, all right?”

“Um, yeah, sure. Sure, Doc.”

The silver-haired doctor left the room.

Before Gage could slide off the table, Roy reached out and stopped him.

“You wanna tell me about it?”

“What?”

“Johnny, I know you well enough to know something’s bugging you. So much so you didn’t feel there was something wrong with your knee. I thought you’d feel better if you talked about it.”

The younger man sighed. He knew his partner was right.

“Well, there was this woman on the bus. She had the prettiest blue eyes. And all she wanted, Roy, all she wanted was for me to fix her glasses so she could see.”

Johnny rubbed his hands over his face.

“I did that for her. I fixed her glasses and told her she was next. I told her I’d be right back, but . . . but, she was gone by the time . . . it was only a couple of minutes and she was gone . . .”

“Johnny, you know we saved as many as we could today. You know that.”

“Yeah, I do. What I don’t know is why she got to me.”

“ ‘cause you’re human, and you care. We all do.”

Gage nodded his head just as the HT in Roy’s hand rang out. It was time to get back to work.

“Squad 51, what is your status?”

** The End **