LIFE IN THE BALANCE

By Northlander

Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, Roy waited for the engine bay door to open. He could hear Johnny softly humming to himself.  Clearing his throat, DeSoto unintentionally attracted Gage’s attention.  Turning toward his partner, Johnny opened his mouth to speak, but quickly changed his mind at seeing Roy’s fixed expression.

“What a grouch!” Johnny thought, and turned towards the side window. He glanced idly at the passing traffic that reflected in the side mirror. A smile slowly crept across his face.    “You just can’t say it, can you?”

Roy didn’t initially respond, and carefully backed the squad into the garage. He turned off the ignition and sighed. Roy knew that Johnny could be a like a dog with a bone when he latched on to an idea.

“C’mon, Roy, why don’t you just admit you’re mad at me? You’ll feel better.  I don’t mind. Hell, we’ve been friends for so long, that we’re bound to be pissed off at each other once in a while.”

Roy unlocked his door and stepped out of the vehicle. “I’m not mad,” he said through clenched teeth. He started in the direction of the kitchen, mumbling to himself, and raising his hands in exasperation. “Why me?” he thought. 

Johnny was now also out of the squad and followed his friend into the dayroom. “Sure you are,” he replied mischievously, his smile widening.

As the paramedics entered the kitchen, they found their comrades mesmerized by the basketball game on television.

“Hey, guys!” John greeted cheerfully.

 Captain Hank Stanley, Marco Lopez, Mike Stoker and Chet Kelly all grunted their acknowledgment in unison. Cap turned to the two paramedics and, at seeing the annoyed expression on Roy’s face, he asked, “Bad run?”

Johnny offered an answer before Roy had a chance. “No, the run was fine, he’s just mad at me and won’t admit it.”

“Ah, Gage, what did you do now?” Chet asked without taking his eyes off the screen.

“I’m not mad!” Roy repeated more forcefully.

“Yes you are,” Johnny said absently.  Unfortunately for Roy, the buzzer had sounded on the television, signalling half time in the game.  All four men turned their attention to the paramedics.  Johnny’s eyes danced with amusement as he began to relate the story. “We went on this run where this kid got stuck in the chimney. He was playing hide and seek with his brother.  It seems that he’s hid in the chimney before, but this time his clothes got snagged, so he got stuck.  The kid’s fine, but as we were leaving his parents were reading him the riot act and giving him all kinds of punishment.  Anyway, I think they went overboard.  Roy says that he would have done exactly what the parents did, and more.”

“And you're basing this on how many years of parenting experience, Gage?” Mike queried.

“That’s what Roy said. Hey, can’t a guy have an opinion?  I was a kid once and well...”

“Once?” Chet snorted.

Roy rolled his eyes, and sank silently into the nearest armchair.

“Ah, Chet, isn’t that like the pot calling the kettle black?” Marco quipped.

Johnny laughed. “Thanks, Marco.” He turned in the direction of the refrigerator and stuck his head inside. One by one Johnny began to inspect the various plastic containers, making a face at the more unrecognizable leftovers. “ Hey Roy, you’ll feel better if you eat something.  Any lunch left?”

*****************************************************************

“Station 51, Truck 99. Unknown rescue at the construction site. 125 Levington. Time out 2:15 p.m.” Captain Stanley jumped out of his chair to reply to the call, followed by his crew.

“Station 51, 10-4. KMG-365.”  He quickly recorded the address, handed a copy to the paramedics and then headed for the engine.

Johnny pulled the map from the squad’s glove compartment to confirm the directions to the rescue site. Satisfied, he turned to his partner and gestured towards the darkening sky. “Did you see those clouds?”

“Yeah, it looks like we’re in for something big,” Roy replied uneasily.

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

The emergency vehicles pulled up in front of a site for a new seventeen-storey office complex that was in its early construction stage.  Steel girders, that framed the building, supported several levels of scaffolding. Piles of lumber covered by large tarps were neatly stacked to the rear of the structure. One end of a tarp that was improperly tied off flapped in the wind.  A crane and steam shovel stood idly by.  Some of the workers stood in a circle, calling to the firefighters and pointing to the top of the building.   An unimpressive looking man, who seemed awkward in a hardhat and work boots, ran up to meet the rescue crew.

“Are you the one that called this in?” asked Captain Stanley.

“Yes.  I’m the shift supervisor, Bill Brown,” he said while wringing his hands.  “One of the men is stuck on the top level of the structure.  I don’t know if he’s hurt, but I’ve been trying to contact him.”  He raised his handi-talkie to emphasize his point.  “The weather’s changing and I wanted everyone down.  I can’t get any answer.  I’m not risking any more of my guys up there.  That’s what you get paid to do, right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Cap replied sarcastically.  “Okay.  John, Roy, go get your climbing gear.  We’ll have to send up your equipment by rope.”  Captain Stanley looked up at the sky and felt drops of rain hit his face.  Glancing over to a clump of nearby trees, he frowned as the branches began to strain against the increasing intensity of the winds. A hollow sound echoed from the steel beams.

“Be careful. And let’s try to make it a fast one.”

Both Johnny and Roy followed Cap’s gaze, nodded their agreement, and then headed towards the structure.

“Chet, you and Marco get the equipment out of the squad and be ready to send it up,” Cap ordered. Hank looked at the anxious expression on the foreman’s face and said, “I thought you guys didn’t work if the weather turned.”

“We don’t, but we’re behind schedule.  I thought we could make up some time.”

“Well, I guess that’s not going to happen.” Cap took several strides closer to the building, trying to assess its condition. Looking up at the sky once more, he saw the growing darkness of the clouds. He focused his attention back on the paramedics as they headed towards the scaffold’s ladder. “Good luck, guys. Time’s not going to be on your side.”

Johnny finished pulling on his gloves, found a secure foothold and began his ascent.  Roy followed close behind. They climbed at a steady pace, though the rain was slowing their progress. A gust of wind rattled the scaffolding, causing both paramedics to grab hold of the railing until the shaking ceased. Johnny looked down at Roy.

“Who needs Disneyland?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’d bring my kids on this ride,” Roy answered.

Johnny nodded his head and resumed his climb. In his haste, he lost his footing on one of the rungs and narrowly missed kicking his partner.  He cursed as his knee connected with the metal ladder.

“Are you all right?” Roy shouted, but the heavy rain drowned out his words.  Johnny grimaced as a sharp pain shot through his lower leg.  He held his breath to stop himself for screaming out.  Signalling he was okay, Johnny resumed his climb, trying to maintain the same pace. They quickly made it to the top of the building.

The paramedics reached their destination and took several cautious steps towards the victim.  A few yards away a man was lying on his back near the far corner of the platform.  He was holding his stomach and rolling from side to side. Johnny grabbed Roy’s arm and said, “Did you feel that?!”  The floor swayed with the gusts, as the insistent rain only added to an already hazardous situation.

Roy nodded. “Come on. I doubt we have much time!”

Johnny and Roy quickened their pace over to the fallen man. Reaching the victim’s side, Roy asked him if he was hurt and what had happened; though his patient only groaned in response. “It’s okay. You’re going to be just fine. We’ll have you down in no time.”  Roy reached for the man’s wrist, and then rested his hand on the victim’s abdomen. “Pulse is 80. Respirations 16.  Pupils are equal and reactive. He’s agitated but I think that has more to do with the storm.”  Roy pulled his stethoscope from his pocket and checked his patient’s blood pressure. “129/95.”  The paramedics looked at each other, trying to decide on the next move. Standing, Johnny noticed a shimmer over Roy’s shoulder.  Walking over to the spot, he retrieved a tequila bottle.  Shaking his head, Johnny cursed silently and returned to crouch beside Roy, showing him the container.

“Damnit!” Roy yelled.

Johnny bent over the patient and demanded, “Is this what made you sick!”

The man groaned again. “Ohhhh.”

Johnny’s face tightened. “Of all the stupid...” He stood up and tossed the bottle away. 

Roy pulled his handi-talkie from his coat pocket. “Engine 51 this is HT 51. Do you read?”

“We read you loud and clear,” Cap responded. “How’s it going?”

“We won’t need any equipment, just send up the stokes.  It seems our victim has been having his own party. Just one too many.”

“10-4. Drop us a line when ready.”

“10-4.” Roy pushed the antenna back into the unit and shoved it into his coat pocket. He looked up at Johnny and shrugged. “They’re waiting for a line.”

Johnny walked towards the edge of the platform to send down the rope. “What I don’t understand is how anybody can drink a bottle of straight tequila. No salt, no lemons.  That stuff has a hell of a kick to it.  Hey, do you think he ate the worm too?”

Roy looked at his friend and laughed. “You’re a good man, John Gage.  How you can see the humour in this, I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think a lot of people would be wondering about the booze.”

Chet and Marco stood at the base of the building waiting to tie off the Stokes. “Hey Cap, did Roy say what happened?” Chet asked.

“Drunk. It seems the guy brought a little something with him for company.”

Brown halted his incessant pacing. “What?  Not again?  This time is it, that’s for certain.  I warned him.”

Cap was incredulous. “And he didn’t listen to you?” he said sardonically. “That’s surprising.  You knew that he does this stuff and you let him on a construction site?” He gave the supervisor a withering look and turned away in disgust. “What a twit,” he added silently.

*****************************************************************

Gripping the rope tightly, and trying to prevent any snags due to the wind, Johnny and Roy pulled up the stokes that had been fastened to their lines.  When it was within arm’s reach, they dragged it onto the scaffold and over to the victim. The man was quickly strapped in and prepared for his trip back to earth.

“Ready?” Roy shouted into the HT.

“Yeah, let her rip,” Chet replied.

The paramedics lifted the Stokes over the side and helped guide it to the ground.  The descent seemed agonizingly long, as both Roy and John felt the floor heave and sway under their feet. They quickly dropped their ropes once they saw Chet and Marco take hold of the basket.  Gage and DeSoto hurried towards the ladder to begin the climb back.

“Ow, shit!”

Roy turned at the sound of Johnny’s voice. “What’s the matter?  Your knee?” he asked anxiously.

“I’m ok. I just slipped and fell on the same leg.”  Johnny looked up at his partner with a pained smile. “It’s ok, really,” he reassured him.

Roy reached out his hand to help his friend stand, but it never connected.  Johnny grabbed at the empty air.  He thought he heard his partner call out his name, though his ears were filled with a roaring clamour as the floor buckled and collapsed.

Pieces of plywood and debris fell to the ground, sending the crew of engine 51 running for cover.  Diving behind the engine, Captain Stanley shouted in to his HT unit

“Gage, DeSoto, do you read?”  He listened to the crackle of dead air. “Oh dear God.” Beads of sweat mixed with the raindrops that covered his face, as fear knotted in his stomach.  Dreading the idea that he would witness a sight worse than the one in his mind, Hank Stanley forced himself to his feet and returned to the collapsing structure.  He was relieved to hear the sound of Roy DeSoto’s voice calling from the handi-talkie.

“Engine 51? This is HT51.”

“Roy, are you two all right?” Cap asked worriedly.

“Well Cap, yes and no,” Roy answered.  “I think we’ve got a problem. We landed a couple of storeys down. I’m not really sure how far.”

“Are you hurt?”

“We’re both pretty bruised from the drop.  I think I may have cracked a couple of ribs.”

“What about Gage?”

“I’m not sure. We landed about thirty feet apart. He may have hit his head.  I’ve been calling to him, but he’s not answering.”

Captain Stanley paced as he listened to the transmission.  He could hear the concern in Roy’s laboured voice.

“Cap, there’s more. This platform was damaged in the collapse and what’s left of it is pretty unstable.  Every time I move it starts to shake, so I think that Johnny and me are acting as a balance to keep it in place.”  Roy released the speaker button on the HT and waited for some encouraging words from his captain. A slight vibration from the boards underneath him interrupted his thoughts.  Looking up, Roy saw Johnny begin to stir.

“Don’t move, Johnny.  For God’s sake don’t move!”

Johnny pushed himself up with his hands, but sank back down to the platform and grimaced.  “It’s okay Roy, I don’t think I can. Are you hurt?”

“Well, I’ve been better,“ he replied shakily. “How about you? Your knee?”

“It hurts. I guess that’s a good sign. So any suggestions?” Turning his head from side to side, Johnny attempted to survey the damage. Parts of the scaffolding, where they were trapped, had been torn away.  Pieces of plywood that were still attached to the girders swayed above them in the dying wind.

“No,” Roy said. “Let’s hope Cap has some.”

“Engine 51. This is HT 51”

“Hey Roy, I thought maybe you had left,” Hank joked weakly.  “Is there any way you can reach Johnny? Can you estimate how far you are from the edge?

“Cap, I’d say that both Johnny and me are about 10 yards from the front edge, and I’m about 4 yards away from the ladder. Johnny’s at about the middle of the platform.”

“Okay, pal. That gives us some idea of where you’re situated. I promise that it won’t be long before we get you down.  At least the rain is letting up some.  I’m pretty sure we can get a line to you using one of the cranes.”

“Ok,” Roy replied without much enthusiasm. “Remember Cap, you’ve got to move us both at the same time.”

“I know, Roy. We’re doing everything we can.”

Roy listened to the latest transmission and a wave of panic crossed over him. He picked up the HT again. “Cap?”

“Roy, it’s Mike. Cap and the guys are talking to the crew from 99’s. How are you two doing?”

“Not so great, Mike. That wind is turning cold and we’re both soaked.  Johnny’s not saying too much.  I know I should think that’s a blessing, but I’d much rather he’d be talking my ear off.  I’m sure he’s as scared as I am.  I hope that’s all it is.”

“Try not to worry, Roy.”

“Mike?”

“Yeah”

“Cap’s plan. It involves getting both of us down, right?

Mike paused before responding. He had been involved in some of the discussions about rescuing the paramedics.  As repulsive a suggestion as it was, all possibilities had to be considered.

Mike hesitantly raised the handi-talkie to his mouth and pressed the speaker button.  “Roy.” he choked. “We’re doing our best.”

Roy lowered his head to the floor. He felt the tears of fear and frustration burning at the corners of his eyes.  He clutched the handi-talkie tighter in his hand and banged it against the platform.  The feeling of complete helplessness was a foreign one.  The thought of being rescued at the cost of his friend’s life sickened him. Roy fought back an urge to vomit.

“Hey!” Johnny called. “How about an update?”  He watched Roy for a moment longer and knew from the silence there wasn’t any good news to share with him.  Johnny swallowed hard and made a muddled attempt at humour. “Don’t go to sleep on me. Didn’t anyone tell you that you’re supposed to be my entertainment while we wait?  Or are you still mad at me?”

Roy raised his eyes to meet his friend’s. “I’m not mad.  I never was.”

“I know.  I guess that sometimes I get carried away.  How do you ever put up with me?” he said with mock self-reproach.

“Lot’s of practice.”

 Johnny grinned. “Touché” As quickly as the smile appeared, it was gone.  “Roy, what do you think our chances are?”

“They’ll get us out of this.” Roy hoped his lack of conviction wasn’t audible.

“You know, I wish I had some of that tequila right now.”

Roy began to laugh but the exertion soon transformed itself into a coughing fit. Johnny’s natural instincts took over, and he began to pull himself towards his partner. The rumbling of the scaffolding stopped his advance.

“Damnit! Are you all right?” Johnny called.

“Just stay there,” Roy rasped. He coughed several more times to clear his throat, looked into his gloves, and was relieved to see no signs of blood.  “I’m okay now.”

“Good,” Johnny said in a distracted voice

Roy waited for further comment, but found none forthcoming. “Hey, cat got your tongue?”

“Yeah, I mean no.  Sorry.”  Johnny squeezed the bridge of his nose between his fingers and closed his eyes tightly.  “I think I’m getting one hell of a headache. At least my knee doesn’t hurt anymore.  You know, Roy, I’m not having any fun, are you?” 

Roy didn’t want to ask his next question. “Johnny, can you move your leg?”  His partner only shook his head, an alarmed look passing over Gage’s face as he tried.  Both men were aware of the possible implications if there was muscle or nerve damage to Johnny’s leg.  Roy felt a chill move through him.

“Hold on, pal.” Roy grabbed hold of the handi-talkie. “Engine 51, do you read”

“We’re right here, Roy,” Captain Stanley responded.

“Cap, you’ve got to hurry. It’s getting pretty bad up here. Neither John nor I are doing too good.”

“How bad?”

“It’s getting harder to breathe. I’m not sure with Johnny, but he’s lost feeling in his left leg. He may also have a concussion. We’re both going to be lucky if we don’t end up with pneumonia.”

“Ok. Roy, we’re coming up now, but Roy, can you move at all without causing too much vibration?”

“Yeah, a little.”

“Now listen carefully.  There’s only one way we can get both of you at the same time.  We’re going to use the ladder truck and get a rope to you and then we’ll send over two harnesses.  Attach the first one to yourself and once you’ve done that, we’ll send the second. I know it’s going to be tough, but you’ve got to slide the harness and the rest of the rope to Johnny.  Are you with me so far?”

“Yes. I can do that.”

“Once you’re secure, we’ll lower you down.”

“But once I start to move, this thing's going to collapse.  Johnny’s going to fall!”

Cap listened to the panic in Roy’s voice, understanding how he felt. When this plan was being devised, all the crew of Engine 51 had expressed their concerns.  Hank kept trying to convince himself that this was the best idea. There was no alternative.

“He’s not going to fall, Roy. He’ll be tied off. It’ll work.  You’ve got to trust me.”

“I trust you, Cap. I just don’t think I’ve ever been this scared.”

“I know, pal.  I’m scared too.”

Johnny had nervously been waiting for Roy’s conversation with Captain Stanley to end.  When he saw his partner pause, he asked, “Hey, what’s Cap saying, Roy?  How much longer?”

“They’re coming up now, Johnny.”

“Ok. Good.”  Although he hadn’t been directly involved in their discussions, Johnny understood the gravity of the situation.  The look of anguish on Roy’s face confirmed it.  He called out to his friend. “Roy?”

“Yeah.”

Johnny took a moment to search for the right words. “Roy, if something happens and things don’t work out, I just wanted you to know that...”

Roy tried to stop Johnny before he finished. “ Please, don’t. Don’t say anything.”

Johnny continued.  “I want you to know that I’m proud to have you as my partner.  I’ve always thought of you as my best friend.”  His voice cracked with emotion. “I just needed to tell you that.”

Roy swallowed hard. “Me too, John.  Me too. Your friendship means a lot to me. It always will. We’re both going to make it out of here.  I want your promise.”

Johnny nodded his head, but said nothing.

 Roy picked up the handi-talkie once more. “There’s got to be another way,” he said quietly, as he pressed the button.  “Cap, why can’t we use two trucks, tie both Johnny and me off separately and then move us.  That would work better, right?”

“We considered that, Roy, but we have a problem.  One of the girders, that’s supporting the structure, approximately where Johnny is laying, has started to buckle.  I don’t want to risk adding more stress to that side of the building.” Cap waited for Roy’s reaction.  He thought he heard a barely audible moan. “Are you ready”?

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Captain Stanley and Marco Lopez approached the ladder truck and climbed into the basket.  Marco shifted the belts on his shoulder to a more comfortable position, while mumbling to himself in Spanish.  Despite the seriousness of the situation, Hank smiled to himself. “I can never tell if he’s praying or swearing,” he thought.  The ladder extended to its full limit a short distance away from the scaffold. Cap grabbed hold of the rope, which had been fashioned into a lasso, and prepared to throw it to Roy.

“Ok, DeSoto,“ Cap yelled as he threw the line. “Now!”

 The rope landed a few feet from the injured paramedic. Reaching out, Roy caught hold of the loop and pulled it towards him. His triumph was short lived as his cracked ribs began to protest the effort.  “Got it,” Roy shouted as he hugged the rope to his chest. He took several sharp breaths.

“Good. Now try and hold the line steady and we’ll send over the harnesses,” Hank instructed.  Captain Stanley turned to Marco and gave him an encouraging look.

Marco quickly attached the gear and started to slide the first belt towards Roy, who easily caught it. Taking the belt from the rope, Roy fastened it around his waist, and then reattached the clip to the line. He then raised himself up into a kneeling position.  Roy’s breath was becoming more laboured from the exertion and he realized that he would have to reach Johnny in one throw.

“Hey partner, how do you like the entertainment so far? The next performance, though, is yours.”

Johnny pressed his hands against the platform and lifted himself while he slid his good knee up for extra support. He attempted to do the same with his left leg, but lost his balance and fell onto his side.  The rumble of the platform mixed with Johnny’s cry of pain. He looked up sadly at his partner. “Roy, we’re running out of time. Just throw it. What ever happens,  happens. It’s ok. Please get yourself out of here.”

Roy felt a vice-like grip take hold of his chest.  His friend’s words cut into him deeply. Both he and Johnny had risked their lives for each other before. This was no false bravado. Roy looked up to the sky and quickly prayed. “I hope your watching. I’m going to need your help.” Roy threw the rope as hard as possible, not wanting to see where it landed.  He briefly closed his eyes.  When he opened them again he saw that his prayers had been heard.  Relief washed over him as Johnny reached out for the line.

“Johnny, you’ve got to slip the rope around your waist.  Cap’s sending up a belt for you,” Roy called.

Johnny once again pushed himself into a semi-kneeling position, attempting to balance himself on one leg as he lifted the line over his head. He slid the rope down to his waist, and then pulled the knot on the loop secure. When finished, he sank back down to the platform, and tried to stop his body from shaking.  It was then that Johnny noticed a distinct stress crack in the scaffold.  The floor shifted, resonating with a thunderous crash. Pieces of the stage fell to the level beneath them, creating a domino effect. Wood and cement sprayed the ground, while the steel girders groaned once more. Hank watched helplessly as the paramedics were thrown about. Cap grabbed his handi-talkie and said, “Stoker, Kelly, move those people out of there, now. This thing’s coming apart.”  He dropped the unit to the floor of the cage.

“ROY! We’ve got to move, now!” Cap yelled as he and Marco began to pull on the rope.

“No, wait!”  Roy called in vain, looking back towards his best friend. He called out to Johnny, but the words were lost in the pandemonium. Roy felt a set of hands grab his feet and begin to lower him into the basket. Cap and Marco each took hold of a shoulder to offer support.  Roy twisted his body to look behind him. The section of the platform where Johnny had been laying was gone.  His eyes followed the rope and to his horror he saw his partner suspended like a rag doll several feet away from the basket. Johnny’s line had snagged on a support beam.

Roy looked at Captain Stanley in desperation, but Hank was already shouting orders into the HT.  “This is Captain Stanley.  Start rotating the ladder to the left and lower us about five feet.  I’ll tell you when to stop.”

Roy was oblivious to Captain Stanley and Marco’s presence.  He distantly heard a voice say something about not worrying and asking whether he was in pain.  His focus never left Johnny.  Time seemed to be standing still as the ladder inched toward their destination. He was shocked back to reality when he heard Cap order, “Stop.”

Hank and Marco reached over the rim of the basket and pulled Johnny’s body towards them.  Marco quickly untied the rope and placed the injured paramedic in a sitting position on the floor of the cage.  Roy bent down to Johnny and called his name softly. He felt a hand squeeze his shoulder when he received no response.  Roy stood up to face Cap Stanley and collapsed.

Chet Kelly and Mike Stoker waited anxiously for the ladder to return to ground level. The paramedics from Station 99, Tom Alexander and Drew Robbins had joined them.  All four men ran to the cage when it stopped.  Chet let out a gasp when he saw the two paramedics. Mike said nothing and ran his hand through his hair. The men gingerly lifted Johnny and Roy, placing them on the ground where Tom and Drew had set up the equipment.

“How bad?” Chet questioned Captain Stanley.

“Bad.”  He walked away, leaving Chet open-mouthed.

“Marco?” Mike asked.

“Mi Dios. It was horrible.” Looking back at the rescue site, Marco shook his head.  He, along with Mike and Chet, headed towards the triage area.

Tom Alexander lifted the biophone. “Rampart, this is Squad 99.  How do you read?”

“We read you loud and clear. Go ahead 99,” answered Dr. Kelly Bracket.

“Rampart, we have two victims of a building collapse,” Tom reported. The first is a 31 year old male with multiple cracked ribs.”

“Breath sounds are slightly diminished on the right side,” Drew said. “Chet, can you help me with the oxygen? We’ll start him on 6 litres.”

“You’ve got it,” replied Chet.  Lifting the canister and placing it closer to Roy, Chet handed the mask to Drew, who placed it over his patient’s mouth. “Thanks, Chet.”

Chet took a step back to stand beside Marco and Mike. “Can I do anything else?”  He asked nervously. Drew shook his head, and began to take Roy’s vital signs. “ His vitals are BP. 105/70, pulse 86, respirations 24. Pupils are equal and reactive. He also has multiple cuts and lacerations around the face and lower arms, though they appear superficial.”

Tom recorded Drew’s findings in his notebook and repeated them to Rampart.

“He said he was having a lot of trouble breathing,” Cap offered.

Nodding, Tom picked up the biophone.  “Prior to losing consciousness he reported difficulty breathing. We have applied a C-collar as a precautionary measure.  The second victim is a 29-year-old male. Possible fractured left leg. The skin colour below the knee is bluish. There is limited muscle response to stimuli. He also has multiple lacerations. Vitals are bp. 110/60, pulse 65 and respirations 16. Right pupil is a little sluggish. He has a deep cut at his hairline on that side. We have been advised that patient had reported losing feeling in his leg and has suffered a possible concussion. We have applied a C-collar.”

“99, do you have a doctor at he scene?”

“Negative, Rampart. Both victims are paramedics with Station 51. Captain Stanley is relaying the information Roy gave him earlier. Roy DeSoto is victim one; John Gage is victim two.

“How long ago did Captain Stanley get this information?” Dr Bracket inquired.

Tom looked up at Hank, who had been standing beside him the entire time.

“Um, a couple of hours,” Hank replied.

“A couple of hours,” Tom relayed.

“Ok, 99.  On both patients start an IV with 1000ml. Ringers Lactate. Monitor breathing on patient one and advise immediately of any changes.  With patient two, immobilize the leg. Transport immediately.” ordered Dr. Bracket.

“10-4 Rampart.” Tom repeated the instructions for Roy’s treatment to Drew. “Cap, we’ve got to get Johnny on a backboard. I could use some help.”

Cap turned towards Mike, Marco and Chet. “ Guys, can you give us a hand?” Cap ordered. Each man took his position at Johnny’s feet, head and side, waiting for Tom’s cue. They gently rolled Johnny onto his side as Tom slid the backboard into position. “Ok, that’s good,” Tom, said.

“I’m ready to take Roy in to Rampart,” Drew called. Tom nodded his acknowledgement.

Cap caught Drew by the arm.  “How is he? Really?

 The young paramedic tried to reassure him. “The doctors are going to take good care of him, you know that.”

“Yeah, thanks.  I know, you’re right.” Hank helped carry the equipment into the ambulance and closed the door behind Drew. Slapping the door to signal the driver, he headed back to Johnny.

Tom was securing his patient, when Johnny began to moan. Tom leaned over the paramedic.  “Johnny can you hear me? Are you in pain?”

“My heads hurts, pounding. And my back. I’m cold.”

“Do you remember anything that happened?”

“Um, building falling…Roy!” Johnny became agitated with the memory and strained against the straps.

“No, Johnny, don’t. You’re only going to hurt yourself. Roy’s going to be fine. He’s at Rampart,” Cap said.  His words seemed to have the desired effect as Johnny began to relax. The attendants moved Johnny onto the gurney and lifted it into the ambulance.

“I’ll be at the hospital as soon as I can,” Cap said, but noted the concern on Tom’s face.

“Cap, he didn’t mention his leg at all, no tingling, nothing. It’s been hours. We‘re probably talking nerve damage.” After the words left his mouth, Tom mentally kicked himself when he saw the distress in Captain Stanley’s eyes. He moved on a few more paces and climbed into the ambulance.

Mike, Chet and Marco walked over to Hank. They had been standing in silence for a moment when Cap lamented, “Please tell me I did the right thing, that there wasn’t a better plan. Maybe if....”

“Cap, there are no maybes or ifs.” All eyes turned to Mike. “You did the best that could be done. There’s no point in beating yourself up now with doubts and questions of what might or might not have happened.” Chet and Marco agreed.

“And you know that Johnny and Roy would have been behind you one hundred per-cent,” Chet added.

“Thanks guys, that helps. Well, I guess we better get going too.  Marco, you take the squad back to the station. There’s still another hour until B shift gets in.”

The ambulance carrying Roy DeSoto reached Rampart Emergency and was met by Dr. Joe Early.

“Treatment 2,” Dr. Early instructed. He fell in step with Drew. “Any changes on the way?

“He seems to be coming out of it. Roy was lucid a couple of times on the ride in. He complained about chest pain and asked about Johnny. I didn’t have any information so that really upset him.”

“Ok, when Johnny gets here, Treatment Three is set up.”

“Sure thing, Doc.”

Joe headed down the hall and pushed open the door to the treatment room.  He leaned over the exam table and smiled down at his patient. “Roy, don’t worry, will fix you up better than new.” Dr. Early placed his stethoscope on Roy’s chest. “ First we’re going to do something to help you breath, but you’ve got to relax.”  He continued his exam and found some tenderness in the upper abdomen, marked by bruises and small lacerations. “Carol, start six units of packed cells. Call the lab and x-ray.  I want a C-spine and pelvic. I also want a C.B.C. and urinalysis.”

“Yes, doctor.”

Dr. Early turned to address Roy. “We’re going to be inserting a chest tube, and if all the tests come back negative, you should be out of here in no time.”

Roy raised his hand to his mouth to move the oxygen mask. “Johnny?”

“That mask has got to stay in place,” Joe ordered. “I’ll check on Johnny.” Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of the x-ray technician.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Exiting the room, Joe headed in the direction of Treatment 3. He entered the room to find Kelly Bracket and Dixie McCall at their patient’s side.

“Dix, check and see if the operating room is ready.”

“How’s it look Kel?” Joe inquired.

“Hey, Doc,” Johnny greeted weakly.

“Hello, Johnny, how are you feeling?”

‘Not as much I should, according to Dr. Bracket,” he said solemnly.

Joe looked at Kelly who gestured towards the films hanging from the screen. He pointed to the leg x-ray. “His fibula’s broken in two places, and the tibia, Kel gestured to the x-ray, here and here.  There’s limited sensory response to pain stimuli from the knee down.  I’ve ordered an E.M.G., but I’m already pretty sure what the results will be. What has me worried is that there’s going to be some ischemic damage to the muscle. The pressure will have to be reduced surgically, though we won‘t know the extent of the damage until we go in. I’m still waiting on the skull x-ray. There’s some bruising on his back, but no spinal injury. That‘s causing him some pain. Add in a probable concussion, and I think we have quite the mess.”

“I take it that you’ve already told him?”

Kel nodded his head. He sighed deeply and turned towards Johnny.

Dixie McCall stood beside Johnny, gently talking to him. “I’m sure Roy is fine. You should know by now that we wouldn’t let anything happen to either of you.”

“Please Dix, can you go and check? I promise I won’t go anywhere.” Johnny made a half-hearted attempt at his famous grin.

Dixie patted his arm. “I’ll try.” The door opened and two orderlies entered the room. “I think they’re here for you.”

“Oh yeah, I guess I’ll be seeing you later.” The orderlies wheeled Johnny out of the room, with Dr. Bracket following close behind.  Dixie walked over to Dr. Early.

“How is Roy?”

Dr. Early leaned against a cabinet and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Well, I’d say that the other half of our dynamic duo is also heading for surgery. We’re inserting a chest tube, and by the looks of things there may be some internal bleeding.  I’m waiting for an operating room. He’s stable right now. Of course, he’s worried about his partner. I just don’t want to upset him more than necessary.” Joe straightened and sighed. “I’d better go. I’m sure he’s anxious for news.”

Dixie followed Joe to Roy’s room, but was interrupted by a page.   “Tell Roy I’ll come to see him as soon as I can.”

Dr. Early entered Treatment 2 and walked up to his patient. Roy turned his head, and started to speak.

“Easy, Roy. He’s going to be fine.”

Roy frowned at Joe’s words. “What does that mean?”

“It means just what I said.”  The phone’s buzzer interrupted their discussion.

“They’re ready for him in surgery,” Carol reported.

************************** ****************************************************

Cap Stanley, Chet and Marco sat patiently in the emergency’s reception area.  The last hour of the shift had seemed like an eternity. Nurse McCall had provided limited information on Johnny and Roy’s conditions and advised them that they would need to speak to the doctors.  All they were told was that both men were in surgery and that everything possible was being done. Mike Stoker approached the group.

“Any luck, Mike?” Cap asked.

“No, I asked my wife and she didn’t have Joanne’s sister’s phone number.  She could only remember that they lived somewhere in northern California.”

“Does she remember Joanne’s sister’s married name?”

“Smith.”

Cap stuffed his hands in his pockets and began to pace. “Well, maybe it’s for the best and this will all be over when Joanne and the kids get back.”

“Any word yet?” Mike asked.

Chet shook his head. He stood up and started to pace in the direction opposite from Cap.

Hank gave him an irritated look. “Sit down, Kelly.”

“But Cap...”

“I’m sorry,” said Hank.  “I’ve never been good at waiting. When my first was born my wife told me to leave the delivery room and go stand in the hallway because I was making everybody nervous.”  He plunked himself down on the sofa.

Mike decided to take a walk in the direction of the nurse’s station, searching for Dixie’s familiar face. A hand tapped him on the shoulder.

“Looking for me?”

“Miss McCall, I was, well, we were wondering if you had heard yet?”

“Actually, I was just coming to tell you that they’re both out of surgery. They brought Roy down to recovery about twenty minutes ago. Johnny should be down soon.  Dr. Bracket will be here to answer all questions. Oh, and Mike, my name’s Dixie.”

“Thanks, Dixie.” He smiled sheepishly and returned to his friends.

“Well, what did she say?” Marco prodded.

Mike was in the midst of repeating his conversation with Dixie when Kel appeared.

“I know it’s been a long wait for you, gentlemen. Why don’t you come into my office and I’ll fill you in.”

Captain Stanley was first to enter the room after Dr. Bracket and took a seat in one of the armchairs in front of the desk. Chet took the other while Mike and Marco stood behind them. Nervously, Chet tapped his foot on the floor until a hard nudge from Marco stopped him.  Kel leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk.

“Let me start by telling you that both operations went well. Roy had some internal bleeding due to a small laceration of the liver from the broken ribs.

“How’s his breathing?” Cap asked.

“ We have him intubated, for the moment, but that should be removed soon. He has a chest tube in, though we’re not expecting any complications. Roy’s in I.C.U. right now, but should be down to a regular room in a couple of days.”

“That’s great news, doctor. And Johnny?”

Kel leaned back in his chair. “As I said, surgery went well.  The pressure on the peroneal nerve has been reduced.  It’s still too early to tell if there’s been any real damage.”

“Meaning?” Cap asked hesitantly.

“ We may be looking at a condition called neurapraxia.  There may be a possible decrease in sensation or muscle control in his lower left leg, which would affect his ability to walk.  He’s definitely going to need extensive physical therapy and may have to wear a brace for quite a while. We’ll know more in the next few days, as his leg heals. The good news is that the damage isn’t permanent although the recovery process can be two to three months.  I wish I had better news.” He looked at the four dejected faces and sighed. “I have to go but you’re welcome to use my office.”

“Um, yeah, thanks,” Cap said. “Can we see them?”

“No, why don’t you give us a call tomorrow. I think that all of you could use a rest.”

Six weeks later...

“Kelly, what is this stuff?” Cap exclaimed.

“Health food.  Soya. Seaweed and...”

“No, not again.   If you want to be healthy, do it at home. Only real food is allowed in this station.”  Before Chet had a chance to respond, Marco, Mike, Roy and Charlie Dwyer unceremoniously picked up Chet’s “dinner” and tossed it into the garbage.

“Hey, you guys owe me three bucks apiece,” Chet said.

“Aw, Kelly, you should pay them for doing you a favour.”  A voice came from the doorway.

“Hey, Johnny,” Roy said cheerfully, “I didn’t know you were coming down today.”

“Looks like it’s a good thing I did.” He entered the kitchen, balancing on his crutches. In triumph, he held a bag high. “Hamburgers and fries, even for you, Chet. Hey, isn’t anybody going to offer me a seat?”  Mike pushed back his chair and moved to the other side of the table. 

“Thanks, Mike.”  Johnny still found sitting awkward because of the brace so he “leaned” into the chair as best he could.

“How’d you get down here?” Roy asked.  “Who did you con this time?  Not your physical therapist again?”

“No,” Johnny said glumly. “She’s on her honeymoon. It seems she forgot to mention the fiancé. My new therapy “friend’s” name is Dolores.  She’s part bulldog and part drill sergeant.   I asked my landlady to drive me down.”

“Jeez, Gage, you just can’t get a break.”

“Actually Chet,” Johnny said pointing to his leg. “I think I’ve had plenty.” He straightened in his chair, a self-satisfied smile on his face, and was met with a chorus of groans.

“You guys have no sense of humour.”

Author’s note: Thanks to my beta reader, aka. my sister, Paula, and to Mary M. for the medical fixes. Also, thanks to our local fire department for clearing up a question or two

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