Oh Chute!

By The Twits

Summer was just starting in California. The promise of sunny weather and temperatures in the mid 80's prompted Chet to take his friend Steve up on his offer and try skydiving. It had taken Steve a while to talk Chet into attempting it. Chet, being a firefighter, was normally not afraid of heights, but jumping out of a plane with just a parachute wasn’t that appealing to him. Steve finally convinced him that it was safe and that he had done it hundreds of times and never once had his chute not opened. Now that he had made up his mind, Chet wanted someone besides Steve to go with him. A-shift was due to have two days off after the current shift. He wondered who he could talk into it.

Chet systematically eliminated possible names. He knew Roy wouldn't go. Joanne probably wouldn't let him anyway. He planned to ask Mike and Marco to go, but he doubted either of them would. That left just one person who would more than likely be a willing participant . . .his pigeon. There was ten minutes left before roll call and Johnny hadn't shown up yet. Roy was in the locker room getting dressed. Mike and Marco were in the dayroom getting coffee when Chet wandered into the kitchen.

"Good morning, guys", Chet greeted them.

"Mornin' Chet", Mike and Marco answered in unison. Chet didn’t answer, He only stared at them.

"Something we can help you with?" Marco questioned feeling increasingly uncomfortable under Chet's stare.

"Uh, yeah, I was wondering if either of you would like to go skydiving with me on Friday."

"Forget it, Chet,” Marco scoffed at the idea. “I'm not that crazy.”

"Neither am I," Mike snorted.

"What are you guys? Chicken?” Chet’s temper reached a full rolling boil. “What's the matter with skydiving?"

"I'll tell you what's the matter with skydiving,” Johnny said as he barged breathlessly into the kitchen with Roy on his heels. “It can get you killed.”

The two paramedics walked over to the counter to get some coffee before Captain Stanley held roll call.

"Cutting it a little close as usual, aren't you, Gage?" Chet retorted, his temper not yet cooled.

Johnny grabbed two cups and filled them, handing one to Roy.

"Skydiving can't kill you,” Chet went on. “You have a parachute and jumpsuit on. My friend Steve has been doing it for years and he said there hasn't been one accident due to a chute malfunctioning."

"Well good for him and his functioning parachute. It's dangerous. I wouldn't go skydiving even if you PAID me to do it!" Johnny pointed to himself for emphasis.

"Oh I get it,” Chet baited. “You're chicken."

"Chicken? I'm not chicken. I'm just being smart. And staying alive and in one piece."

"I still say you're a chicken. You’re afraid to do it, aren’t you, Gage?”

"I'm not afraid--"Johnny started back at Chet but was interrupted by Roy, much to his annoyance.

"Why the sudden interest in skydiving, Chet"? Roy chimed in oblivious to Johnny's stare, as he tried to stop an out and out war on the topic of the day.

"I just thought it would be something fun to do on a day off. And I thought maybe one of you would want to go with me. But I guess I was wrong. You guys are really something, you know that?" A dejected Chet walked out of the kitchen.

"Geez, what got him started?" Johnny wondered.

Captain Stanley poked his head into the kitchen. "Roll call, guys."

# # # # # # #

After chores were doled out, Johnny went in search of Chet before he headed off to the dorm. He found the Irishman in the latrine on his hands and knees viciously scrubbing the tile and mumbling, "That's the last time I ever ask any of them to do something with me. Try to do something different for a change and they scoff at me!"

Johnny was actually starting to feel a little sorry for Chet.

"Chet," Johnny called to him quietly. He didn’t want to startle the fireman and cause him to jump up and hit his head on the sink. When Chet didn’t respond, Johnny called out again. Each time he got a little louder so he could be heard over Chet's mumbling and scrubbing.

God, am I a glutton for punishment, Johnny silently cursed himself.

"Chet!" Johnny finally yelled at him. Chet jumped up and banged his head on the sink anyway.

"Quit sneaking up on people like that and shouting,” Chet growled at Johnny while rubbing the back of his head. “What do you want, Gage?”

“I wasn't sneaking up on you,” Johnny defended himself, already wishing he hadn’t decided to give into Chet’s desire to skydive. “I called your name three times. So about this skydiving thing. . .if you still want to go, I’ll go with you.”

"You will? Really? That's great!" Chet slapped Johnny on the back. "You can meet me at my place around 8:00, we'll go meet Steve, get in a jump or two, get something to eat afterwards. We'll have a great time. You'll see. You won't regret it!"

I already do.

Johnny came back out of the latrine, listening to Chet now whistling as he worked, only to find Roy standing in the apparatus bay waiting for him.

"Tell me you didn't tell him that you would go." Roy pleaded.

"Yeah, I said I would go", Johnny avoided looking at Roy by averting his eyes to the floor.

"Why'd you do a stupid thing like that?" Roy's voice raised an octave.

"Did you want to see him pout like a wounded puppy all day long Roy?” Johnny’s voice also rose. He had pictured Chet with puppy dog eyes and stooped shoulders around the station. “That can make for one miserable shift.”

"Yeah, I guess so," Roy agreed. He wisely didn’t voice how his partner was usually the one with the puppy dog eyes and stooped shoulders. “But skydiving?"

"It'll be fine.”

I hope so, junior, Roy silently wished.

# # # # # # #

Friday morning arrived and Johnny met Chet at his apartment as planned. The men headed for the small airfield where Chet’s friend Steve was waiting for them.

“This is gonna be great, Gage. . .being up with the birds, all the open space, the wind blowing in our faces. . .it’s gonna be far out.”

Johnny glanced over at Chet. If it wouldn’t cost me endless harassment for the rest of my life, I’d back out of this. . .

“Chet, you know it’s an awful long drop from the plane…you sure you want to do this?”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re all ready backing out. . .c’mon, John,” Chet shook his head. “No way I’m gonna change my mind. . .I can’t wait for that thrill of falling then floating down to the ground.”

“I’m not backing out,” Johnny protested. “I just want you to be sure you know what you’re getting into. That’s all.”

“You make it sound like you’ve done this before,” Chet said, glancing over at his passenger.

Johnny didn’t reply and Chet didn’t keep on him for an answer as they had arrived at the airfield.

# # # # # # #

The two men walked across the tarmac to where Steve and another man were standing over by a small propeller plane.

“Hey, Chet,” Steve grinned. “Ready to hit the skies?”

“Yeah, man. I can’t wait. Oh, this is the friend I was telling you about,” Chet indicated Johnny with a wave of his hand. “This is John Gage…John, this is Steve and uh. . .”

“Bill,” the other man introduced himself.

Steve reached out and gave Johnny a handshake. “Glad to meet you. Bill here will be your tandem jumper for today.” He turned his attention to Chet. “I’ll jump with you.”

“Tandem jumper?” Johnny questioned. “Oh, I don’t need a tandem jumper. I’ve done this before.”

Chet looked incredulously at the paramedic. “Wait a minute…if you’ve done this before what was all that about at work the other day? The 'I wouldn’t go skydiving if you paid me to do it' and 'Skydiving can get you killed?’ No way you’ve done it before.”

“Yes I have. I did it a lot a few years ago,” Johnny explained. He pulled a small black covered book from a pocket in his lower pant leg. “See? Here’s a log of all my jumps I’ve done since I started.”

Johnny handed the book over to Chet. The stocky fireman opened it and flipped through the pages.

“Well, I’ll be. . . .Is this for real?”

“Of course it’s for real, Chet!” Johnny answered irritated. “I hand you proof and you still don’t trust me. Sheesh! I’ll tell you what, I’ve also watched from above as a friend of mine got his lines tangled with another jumper and they both were lucky to survive with a few broken bones when they landed. I’ve only gone enough since then to stay certified.”

Chet didn’t know what to say. He almost wanted to laugh like Johnny was pulling one over on him. Steve’s reaction kept Chet silent.

“That’s one thing people need to be careful of. Some things are beyond control, but steering errors can contribute to that. . .or just jumping too soon after the other has gone. Or just being careless.”

“Well, how about we go tandem for the first jump, John,” Bill suggested, “then you can do the second one solo if you feel ready since you’re experienced.”

Johnny shrugged. “Sure.” He had to admit, he was a bit more nervous than he had anticipated.

# # # # # # #

Once they had gotten up in the small plane, Johnny’s stomach was in knots…he had forgotten just how much memories of that accident bothered him after not being up for several months.

Well, all it’ll take is one good jump and I’ll be okay…just like getting back on a horse after falling off.

# # # # # # #

The first jump went well. Chet was pale after he finally reached the ground, but all in all everyone was ready to give another jump a try. After the men got their parachutes repacked and were able to grab a snack, the pilot took the four men up for another jump. This time he flew them farther out in a more secluded area.

While they were getting into position, Chet decided try his luck at prying into Johnny’s background.

“So, Gage, what made you decide to take up skydiving anyway?”

Johnny gave Chet a sly look. He had a feeling his friend still doubted him.

“I wanted to be a smoke jumper. The program was expanding in early 1970 and I wanted to try it.”

Though Chet himself had never been interested in that particular form of dangerous fire duty, he knew a smoke jumper parachuted from a plane into the middle of forest fires in order to draw a fire line and help fight the fire right in the thick of danger.

“How come you didn’t want to stay with it?” Chet wondered.

“It wasn’t what I wanted after all. So I became a rescue man at Station Eight. But I liked jumping enough to continue it as a hobby.”

Steve had been listening to Johnny’s explanation. Obviously Chet’s friend had the experience, but Steve knew he’d feel better if Johnny still had a tandem partner.

“You sure you want to go this one solo, John?” Steve asked.

“Oh, yeah. . .I can handle it,” Johnny said, grinning. “I just had to get that thrill of the jump in my system again. . .I’m ready.”

The pilot got the plane in position for the men to jump. Bill went first, Johnny next. Steve and Chet watched from above as the two men dropped. Bill’s parachute soon opened, but Johnny continued to drop.

“Oh my God, his chute’s not deploying!” Steve yelled.

Chet was in disbelief. Surely this had to be a joke by Johnny. But why would he risk his life? Gage wasn’t that stupid.

# # # # # # #

Fear and panic swept over Johnny when his parachute failed to deploy at the correct time. He knew time was of the essence and he fumbled for the second cord. His reserve chute deployed at what Johnny hoped was in time to ensure a somewhat safe landing. Vivid memories of Greg and Manny's accident played in his mind as he drifted farther away from the projected target. His mind raced as he continued his descent.

Man, I hope I land okay because I sure don't wanta go like this. All because my stubborn pride wouldn't let me tell Chet I changed my mind when I picked him up.

# # # # # # #

Chet released the breath he had been holding when the second, smaller chute appeared. At that moment the plane was rocked by a sudden strong gust of wind. Clutching the handhold tighter, he watched again in horror as his station mate was taken farther off course from the drop zone by the unexpected winds.

# # # # # ##

Johnny was swept towards a part of the hills with dense trees and a rocky surface beneath them. He saw the heavily wooded area looming closer.

Oh God - I'm in trouble.

The idea of landing in a wooded area scared Johnny - so many hazards. He knew this landing was going to be rough despite his previous experience and training. Hell, if I'm lucky I'll only break a few bones. That thought didn't appeal to him any more than his current situation.

# # # # # # #

Chet turned to Steve.

"We gotta go after him!”

"Easy, Chet. We can't go after him. That wind is pretty strong. Even if we did jump, we wouldn't be landing anywhere near John."

"I can't believe this! First he doesn't want to go, but he changes his mind. Then I find out he's a certified jumper - and now this. It's all my fault. If I hadn't goaded him into it he'd be at home right now. Aw man, if anything happens to him I'll never forgive myself."

The pilot, Marty, was trying hard to keep control of the small plane.

"Hey, Marty,” Steve shouted over the wind. “What's going on?"

"Bad storm's brewing. Totally unexpected. We're going to have to go in."

"No!" shouted Chet. "What about Gage?"

"Sorry, guys. Tower just called. We have to land this puppy. All planes have been grounded due to unsafe conditions. There's a hell of a storm coming on."

Chet turned to Steve. "But, Johnny - we gotta help him!"

"Look, Chet, I'm sorry about John. We'll find him, but we can't do it from here, okay? We know where he was supposed to land and the general direction in which he was taken off course. We'll get a search party together and look for him."

"But..."

"I'm sorry. It's the best we can do. If we stay up here and this storm hits, they'll be looking for us too."

Chet took in a long, slow breath and let it out. "Yeah, Steve, I know. I understand. It's just..."

"He's your friend. I know it's hard. I've seen it happen before. You've gotta have faith that he'll be okay. He's an experienced jumper. He'll make it." Steve had no faith in his own words, how could he expect Chet to believe it?

"Hey, Marty! Notify the tower that we have one on the ground and another blown off course from the DZ. We're going to need assistance in retrieving him. Last we saw he was headed towards the west end of the forest." Steve turned to Chet. "If you're not the type to pray, now might be a good time to start."

Chet closed his eyes and sighed heavily. The plane rocked against the winds and thunder echoed around them.

"Johnny - I'm sorry..."

# # # # # # #

Gage attempted to steer away from the wooded area he was approaching but the winds were stronger than he anticipated. He was unable to control his descent and he began to wonder if that old saying was true. Does your life really pass before your eyes? He was sure he honestly didn't want to find out.

Johnny knew he wasn't ready to depart from this world. There was too much he still wanted to do and learn. He had friends and a job he wasn't ready to give up yet.

Get a hold of yourself, Gage. You haven't died yet.

He looked down and realized his nightmare was about to become a reality. The last thing he remembered was crashing through the canopy of pine trees and the ground rushing up to meet him. Incredible pain and fear overwhelmed him and then nothing. . . .

# # # # # # #

The plane couldn't land fast enough for Chet Kelly. He was anxious to find Johnny.

"Oh man! I gotta call Cap." he swallowed hard "And Roy. They’re gonna kill me. Roy was against this from the start. How am I gonna tell them I lost Gage? What if he’s . . .”

"Chet! Calm down. You need to sit and slow your breathing. Do you want to hyperventilate? It's going to be all right."

"Is it? Can you guarantee we're gonna find him? Can you guarantee he'll be alive when we do? Spare me, okay? This never should’ve happened. He didn't want to do this in the first place. If he dies, it's all my fault!"

"You don't know that’ll happen. Besides, it was most likely a mechanical failure, and the storm is beyond your control."

"Doesn't matter," responded a very dejected Chet Kelly, his eyes cast down. "It's all my fault. Nothing you can say will ever change that. When am I ever gonna learn?"

# # # # # # #

Chet sat motionless once the plane had landed. He knew he had to get up and make the phone call; he simply wasn't sure what words he could use to do so.

"Chet?" Steve gently called out. "Hey, man, we're back at the airport. Let's get going so we can find John."

The short, stocky man looked up and nodded. He stood and followed the instructor out of the plane and into a small office. Marty, the pilot, was already there.

"I've got the Forest Rescue Service on the line, Steve," Marty said while holding the phone in his hand. "I've already given them the coordinates we had for the planned jump and the direction the wind took Gage once he did jump. They're gonna get a team together immediately, but now we just have to see if the weather cooperates."

"What's the forecast?" asked Steve.

"Predicting one that's quick in, quick out. Then again..." responded Marty.

"Then again?" echoed Chet anxiously. "Then again, what?"

"Nothing, Chet," answered Steve quickly, while motioning the 'cut' sign to Marty.

"No, I mean it. Are they expecting something?"

"Nothing specific. It's that time of the year, though, Chet. You know the storms can appear at a moment's notice and be out again just as quickly. All we're saying is, if the weather cooperates we'll be able to find Gage that much sooner, that's all," Steve said trying to reassure his client.

One look at Kelly's face and everyone knew the instructor wasn't all that successful. The man wore his heart on his sleeve at the moment and his worry was confirmed by the anxious tone of his voice.

"I need to call my shift-mates; I gotta call Roy and let him know."

"Who's Roy?"

"Johnny's partner. They're both paramedics in the department."

"Well, that's something, isn't it?" asked Marty. "I mean having a paramedic background should help Gage, right?"

"Yeah, sure it will. He'll be able to diagnose himself and know just how serious his injuries are," retorted Chet, dejectedly.

# # # # # # #

Chet found himself alternately praying for the phone to continue ringing and then for someone to pick it up. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how the words were going to come out of his mouth. Hell, he didn't even know how to form the words in his head.

"Hello?"

"Shit," Chet muttered.

"Hello? Is someone there?"

"Yeah, Roy. Yeah. . .it’s me.”

"Chet! Hi! So, did you go through with it? And Johnny? Did he go through with it?"

"Yeah, we went through with it. We did a tandem jump with our instructors, and then Johnny did a solo..."

"Solo, already? You're kidding!"

"Did you know he was already certified?" asked Chet, all the while knowing he was stalling the inevitable.

"He was? News to me. So, how'd he do? Did you jump solo, too? Lemme talk to him.”

"Roy, he's not here."

Before Roy asked the next obvious question of “Well, where is he?” he hesitated because of the scant tremor he heard in his colleague's voice. Anyone else wouldn't have necessarily heard it. The slight waver was barely apparent. But Roy was the kind of man who spoke less and listened more, and he could tell something was drastically wrong.

"What's wrong, Chet?"

Chet opened his mouth to speak, but a response refused to come out.

"Oh, geez, Chet, what the hell happened to Johnny?"

Chet felt almost a sense of relief. Roy knew; he didn't have to actually say the words that would let him know Gage was probably in big trouble.

"He and Bill, one of the instructors, both jumped. Bill's chute deployed right on time, but Johnny's..."

"Johnny's chute never opened?" Roy filled in the gap.

"Not the main one; the smaller, emergency one opened. But there was this wind..."

"Wind? Chet, I don't understand. What the hell were you doing jumping out of an airplane if it was too windy?"

"That's just it, Roy. It wasn't too windy at first; it was beautiful. The first jump was amazing, even Johnny had to admit that he'd enjoyed it no matter what kind of lousy experience he'd had in the past."

"What happened to him in the past?" asked Roy who was now both worried for his best friend and totally confused as to what Chet was referring to.

"Forget about that for now, okay? Roy, look, there was a squall that came through real quick-like as Johnny and Bill jumped. When Johnny's chute didn't deploy at first this wind gust took him way off course. I wanted to go jump after him, but the pilot said it was a no-go. They've got the rescue service teaming up right now, but we can't be sure as to exactly where he landed. I'm gonna get out to the ranger station and join in the ground search."

"Why the hell aren't you searching by air?"

"They will be, eventually, but no one's sure how much help that'll be. He was heading in the direction of the Ashton Forest State Park."

"Damn it," Roy muttered. "They'll never see through to the ground. Coverage is too thick."

"I know. Once the winds die down and the pilots get clearance, they'll go up and see if they spot anything, even if it's just a piece of his parachute. At least it'll give us place to target," Chet replied.

"It'll take me about fifteen minutes to round up the others, and then about another hour to drive out to Ashton. You gonna wait for me?"

"Do ya want me to?" asked Chet.

Roy knew there were two ways to interpret Chet's question. The first was his way of asking him if he shouldn't just get right into the thick of the search as quickly as possible in order to find Johnny.

The second was Chet's way of asking if Roy didn't mind working with the man who got his partner into that mess in the first place. The paramedic instinctively knew which meaning Chet's tentative question held.

"Chet, yes. I want you to wait for us. We’re a team, aren’t we?”

"Yeah, you’re right. We are."

# # # # # # #

The four shift-mates made record time in getting to the Ashton Forest State Park where they found Chet pacing the perimeter of the small, indoor reception area.

"Chet, any word?" Roy called out.

"Roy!" Chet returned the greeting in kind, and then turned to the other men. "Hey, guys. Boy, am I glad you're all here. I've been going crazy waiting."

"Okay, now that we are here, what can we do?" asked Hank, taking control of the situation.

"I'll let Greg Jackson know you're here. He's the area rescue coordinator and can fill us in on what the conditions are and which area to take," informed Chet.

The men nodded and waited for Ranger Jackson to return with Chet. Moments later a tall, gangly man appeared who very much reminded the firemen of their missing friend. The Ranger extended his hand to one and all and having exchanged names and greetings thanked them for getting there as quickly as they did.

"Well, to be honest, I think if a cop had stopped me, I would have been hard pressed to be able to talk my way out of a speeding ticket," admitted Roy. “Just tell us where we should start searching and we'll be on our way."

"I understand you're all anxious to get out there, but we need to plan this to the best of our ability so we don't end up having to look for you guys," responded Jackson.

"It's not like we haven't had experience in search and rescue, Ranger," remarked Hank.

"Oh, Captain, forgive me. I wasn't questioning your ability; in fact, I'm grateful you're here. If it weren't for the fact that you were with the fire department, you wouldn't make it out of the front door. Hell, you probably wouldn't have even made it through the front door in the first place. The last thing we need or your friend needs are amateurs taking part in a search and rescue of this nature."

Hank nodded to acknowledge that the air was cleared, and invited Jackson to continue.

"Okay, we've got seven search parties out there so far; your group will make number eight. If we haven't found him by morning, we'll increase it to ten." Upon seeing the expressions on the group’s faces turn from worry to horror, Jackson immediately added, "But that's not to say I'm not confident that we won't find him tonight. But it is getting dark, and the area that we've projected him to have landed in is so damned dense..."

The men worked to regain control of their anxiety and encouraged the ranger to continue explaining the plan of action.

"Okay, we've got Rescue Groups Alpha and Beta searching the southern most tip of the outlined area. Groups Candlestick and Dogma are by the eastern side while Groups Exodus and Freedom are on the northern tip. You guys are going to join Rescue Group Gladiator to check out the western edge.

"Now, in terms of distance, you're all going to be relatively close to one another. It's probably no more than a difference of a few miles between all of you,” explained Ranger Jackson. “But like I said, the forest is so dense in that area, that if you don't have the manpower to cover the ground in a thorough search, well, if your guy is injured there's a good chance a search party that's too spread out would miss him."

"Well, okay. Let's get going!" demanded Chet.

The others looked just as eager to move forward with the search.

"Hold on," cried out Jackson. The others stopped in their tracks. "You need to be equipped, gentlemen."

"We've got rescue gear out in our pickup; we figured we'd be better off bringing rope and climbing gear, just in case. We also packed up a pretty decent first aid kit," said Roy, adding more to himself than anyone else, "...wish we had the squad up here."

"The squad?" echoed Jackson.

"Roy's a paramedic with the department. The squad is equipped for medical emergencies."

"Well," Jackson replied nodding his understanding, "hopefully there won't be any need for anything that drastic."

The guys stood there and couldn't help but break into wry smiles.

"What?" asked Jackson curiously.

"You've never met Johnny," murmured Chet in response, to which everyone nodded in mutual agreement.

"C'mon, guys, let's get our gear and then head out to our section," Captain Stanley said.

"Wait, two more pieces of business before you go," said Jackson. "Number one, don't lose this," he said as he tossed over the forest service version of a handy-talkie.

"Okay, what's the second?" asked the Captain.

"What's your handle? Every group has an identifiable name in order of the alphabet; we're up to the letter 'H'. What's yours going to be?"

"H?" asked Chet, scratching his head.

"I got it," Roy said quietly. "Homecoming. We're Group Homecoming."

They set out quickly to make it so.

# # # # # # #

Johnny woke to find himself face down on the ground with the worst headache he'd ever had in his life. His left arm, pinned beneath him, throbbed painfully, he was wet and cold and he had a mouthful of something gritty. Dirt, he decided, as he raised his head and spat several times. Dirt and. . .dead leaves. Where the hell was he? Lifting his head cautiously he took in his surroundings. He saw dim light filtering through a canopy of towering trees, thick underbrush dripping with rainwater and rocky, uneven terrain stretching out as far as the eye could see. The forest. But what forest? And how did he get here?

He raised a hand to his aching head and was surprised to find that he was wearing a helmet and goggles. There's no fire around here. I don't need this stuff, were Johnny's jumbled thoughts as he pulled the head gear off with his good hand. 

Johnny shook his head, trying to clear his fuzzy brain. A bad idea, he soon discovered as his skull exploded in pain and his stomach roiled before revolting entirely. He retched and vomited repeatedly almost falling face first in the mess he made. Groaning, he managed to drag himself backwards a few feet before collapsing in an untidy heap on the muddy ground.

When the pain and nausea had receded to manageable levels, he tried to get off the ground, pushing himself up with shaking arms. Another bad idea. Pain screamed up his left arm and only then did he see the unnatural angle of his wrist. Broken, he noted, and broken badly. Shit. He lay there, panting, his wrist and head throbbing in time with his pounding heart. Slowly he became aware of a whole host of aches and pains. His back, his knees, his left shoulder all hurt … none of them as badly as his wrist … probably minor sprains or bruises, but he was definitely feeling the injuries.

He wondered if anyone knew where he was. Would he be missed? Would they know where to look if he was? He honestly didn't know.

"Can't sit here all day wondering about it," he muttered to himself. There was a light rain falling but both the ground beneath him and the clothes he wore were thoroughly saturated, indicating that the storm had once been much worse. The wet clothing was slowing leeching the heat from his body and based on the angle of the light coming through the trees it was already early evening. God only knew how long he'd been lying there unconscious. He needed to find help, or at least some sort of shelter, before dark. But first, he had to get himself on his feet and at the moment it seemed like an insurmountable task.

Small steps, Gage counseled himself, one thing at a time. First he'd try to sit up. He attempted to roll over but there was something bulky strapped to his back that stopped him. His SCBA? No, whatever it was, it was too soft to be an air tank. A backpack maybe? Was he camping? Was that why he was in the woods? He fumbled behind his back and his fingers closed over a fistful of fabric. Dragging a swath of it around into his line of sight he realized it was parachute silk. What the hell?

Johnny rubbed his eyes with a shaking hand, desperately trying to make sense of the situation. He was injured, alone and lost in the forest in the middle of a storm with the tattered remains of a parachute strapped to his back. And he had absolutely no idea how he'd gotten there.

But now wasn't the time to think about that, he reminded himself. Get off your ass, Gage, and get moving. Still it was nearly an hour until he was ready to go in search of help. Getting himself untangled from the parachute had been slow going because of his broken wrist. Fashioning a split for the wrist out of a couple of sturdy branches and torn strips of silk took even longer. He was just thankful that parts of the parachute were badly shredded or he'd never have been able to tear the strips off using only his teeth and his uninjured right hand. He bundled up the rest of the parachute as best he could and strapped it to his back. The sheer fabric wouldn't provide much protection if he had to spend the night in the woods, but it would be better than nothing.

Finally he was on his feet, albeit a bit unsteadily, and ready to go. There was just one problem. Which way should he go? Turning a slow circle he looked again for any sign of civilization. A hiking trail, an old campsite, anything. But there was nothing, nothing but trees and rocks and dripping foliage. Finally, he decided to head west, because walking into the setting sun would make the light last longer. Taking a deep breath, he tightened his grip on the thick branch he'd found to use as a walking stick, and headed deeper into the trees.

Little did he know that he was on the far western edge of the search area and heading away from the men who'd been combing the woods for him for hours.

# # # # # # #

“Johnny!” Roy called out, his hands cupped around his mouth. “Johnny!”

The men were disappointed when no reply came. They had been searching for well over an hour now and darkness was fast approaching. They were all grateful that they didn’t have to pull duty again till the day after the next, which allowed for another full day of helping in the search for their wayward shift-mate in the event they didn’t find him soon.

Marco looked down at his damp hiking boots. “I hope Johnny’s shoes are water proof. This ground is pretty damp.”

All eyes fell on Chet for an answer.

“What?” Chet eyes scanned over each face in the group one by one. “Look, I talked him into taking the jump. I’m not responsible for what he was wearing.”

Roy looked over Kelly in his long-sleeved shirt and jeans. “Chet, Johnny’s been out in the elements here. Just how is he dressed?”

“Don’t worry,” Chet assured as Roy scrutinized his attire. “He had on his jumpsuit, helmet, goggles, and boots. . .the whole deal. I changed outta my stuff while I was waiting for you to get here.”

“I’d feel a lot better if he hadn’t been out in a downpour,” Captain Stanley interjected, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the forest ahead of them.

# # # # # ##

Cap and the rest of the crew were quite frustrated when the search coordinator paged out to all the teams that it was time to return to the base camp. Roy, in particular, was not happy at all. He didn't want to leave without his partner, or at least some sign that they were on the right track.

Chet was miserable. He kept catching looks from the other guys as if this were all 'his' fault. Deep down he knew he was responsible and felt terrible about it. Chet Kelly was not going to let the stares get to him and he certainly wasn't going to let them know his true feelings about his pigeon.

Hank walked over to DeSoto. "Roy, we really have to be going now. If we don't obey orders, they won't let us come back out tomorrow." he paused and exhaled slowly. "I'm worried about him too."

Roy looked his captain in the eyes, "I know. I just wish this was all over. Better yet, I wish this had never happened. I just knew something bad was going to happen, but my perpetually optimistic partner says, 'Don't worry.' We don't even know if he's alive," Roy's emotions threatened to rise to the surface. "This rain won’t help matters. It’s cold and if he’s unconscious. . .well, pneumonia could set in fast. Damn!”

Hank was taken aback by his senior medic's outburst. It wasn't in Roy DeSoto's nature to swear. "I know, pal. I know. C'mon, let's get a move on. We'll be back out at first light. I'm sure we'll find him tomorrow."

"I just hope it isn't too late," added Roy.

# # # # # # #

The dejected firefighters followed orders and headed back to the base camp. After a late dinner, a meeting was held to discuss the order of business for the next day's search effort. It was strongly suggested that all those going out at first light get a good night's sleep.

Ranger Jackson approached the worried firefighters. "I understand how hard this must be for you. Believe me, I know from personal experience. We'll get more accomplished tomorrow when we have daylight on our side. I'm confident we'll find him tomorrow. We made good progress, despite the rapidly diminishing day hours. Get some rest, okay? I'll see you in the morning."

"Thanks Ranger. We'll do that. Morning won't come soon enough," replied Hank.

"I hear you," added the ranger before leaving the sullen group.

"Roy?"

"Yeah, Cap?"

"You all right?"

"No, no I'm not. I'm worried and..." his voice trailed off and each man knew what he would have said if he could have finished his thought.

"We are too," said Mike Stoker, placing a reassuring hand on Roy's shoulder. Marco and Chet agreed. The weary men settled down for what they knew was going to be a sleepless night as their worries made the task next to impossible.

# # # # # # #

Johnny opened his eyes and couldn't see anything. It took a few moments to clear his foggy brain and to realize that it was now night.

"Oh man. I can't believe this. I just sat down for a minute! I swear it was only a minute and the sun was still out." He drew in a painful breath. His head ached along with his back and shoulder. He felt the uncontrollable urge to shiver. "I'm freezing and my wrist hurts like hell. I guess I won't be going anywhere ‘til morning. It's too dark. Wish I had a flashlight or better yet, some matches. A campfire sure would feel great right now."

He patted the pockets of the still damp nylon jumpsuit. Nothing. He still had no idea why he was dressed like this or where he was. He also wondered why he had gotten wet and was in the woods at night without camping gear.

Johnny sighed and shifted his weight a bit. Everything hurt. A breeze picked up and he shivered again. A small amount of moonlight filtered through the trees. He could see no suitable shelter nearby and knew he had to find a way to keep warm. Shifting again, he felt the pressure of the pack strapped to his back. He had a hard time getting it loose with one good hand. Inside the pack were the remains of the parachute. He wrapped the silk fabric around himself as much as he could and settled back down on the ground. He managed to slowly pull together a pile of pine needles to sit on. It would afford some protection from the cold, damp ground.

Gage leaned back gingerly against the tree trunk, careful not to put too much pressure on his left shoulder. His paramedic training told him he should stay awake, but his exhaustion overwhelmed him.

# # # # # # #

Several hours later Johnny awoke with a start. He pulled the parachute fabric closer to him and tried to go back to sleep. His wrist was throbbing again and he was still cold. Without realizing it, he was once again unconscious, as he slumped against the tree.

# # # # # # #

The early morning light hurt Johnny’s eyes when he opened them. He debated whether to stay put or move on. He thought about it and knew he didn't have the energy to continue. "Maybe if I can get out from under these trees I can warm up in the sun."

The paramedic steeled himself for the agony of getting to his feet. Pain exploded all over his body and he nearly lost consciousness again. Panting from the exertion and pain, he managed to stand up and take a few steps, dragging the tattered chute behind him. The process of moving was a chore, despite his makeshift crutch. It took a while, but Johnny finally made it to a small clearing. He sat tiredly on a large boulder and let the bright morning sun begin to warm him.

Johnny brooded as he thought about his predicament.

"Roy - where are you? Where am I? God, please, somebody help me," he quietly lamented. He closed his eyes and lay back on the hard smooth surface. John Gage was once again unconscious in no time.

# # # # # # #

Roy slowly opened his eyes. He saw the light filtering in and jumped out of bed. His actions did not go unnoticed. As soon as he was up, the rest of 51 got out of bed. Chet practically bounced out; he could hardly contain his eagerness to get on the move. Captain Stanley looked between Roy and Chet. He couldn't tell who looked more anxious to get going. Roy actually started pacing while waiting for the rest of the search group to get up so they could get started while Chet sat nervously with his leg bouncing up and down while he checked his watch.

"Will you two please calm down?" Captain Stanley finally had enough. "It's only five o’clock in the morning."

"Calm down? Calm down? Cap, Johnny's been out there all night alone while we had a roof over our heads. He's probably soaked by now and sick from the cold. Add to that injured, and God only knows what all is wrong with him and it's all my fault!" Chet beat Roy to the punch right down to who was taking blame for what happened.

Roy could only stare open-mouthed at Chet. He never realized that Chet would be so concerned about Johnny with the way they were always on each other’s nerves. He had to smile because Chet had said exactly what Roy would have. But Chet’s remarks were more like a Johnny whine, whereas Roy would have been a little more controlled.

"Chet, we can't do anything until the rest of the group gets here anyway, so why don't we get something to eat. We're going to need the energy if we're going to be out all day searching," Captain Stanley tried to reason.

Marco squeezed Chet's shoulder fully understanding why Chet wanted to get going and why Captain Stanley insisted they eat first. "He's right, Chet," Marco hoped to calm Chet down before he said something he was going to regret.

But Chet shook off Marco's attempt. "Eat! Eat!" Chet continued to rant. "How can we eat when Johnny hasn’t had anything to eat or drink?" Chet's guilt was taking over now.

"Look, either get something to eat and drink, or I'm pulling you off the rescue.” Stanley got nose to nose with the Irishman. “We can't afford to have you passing out on the way, and losing time and manpower to haul you back here. It's gonna take enough time as it is just to find Johnny since the area is so thick."

"OK, fine! I'll get something to eat,” Chet finally gave in although he was fuming inside thinking about the time they were wasting now when they could be on their way.

"DeSoto, have you been giving him guilt lessons?" Mike afforded a chuckle at Roy as the senior paramedic stood watching the verbal spars between Chet and Cap. Roy marveled that he didn't have to say a word because Chet was saying everything that he wanted to.

Now if we can just get a move on, Roy thought.

"We're wasting precious time waiting and Johnny's golden hour is long gone."

At 7:15 everyone was once again assembled waiting for last minute instructions from Ranger Jackson.

# # # # # # #

Johnny opened his eyes to slits as he felt a wetness hitting him. Trying to reorient himself to where he was and why, he glanced around, barely moving his head. He was outdoors somewhere. But why? Had he been camping? And where'd the sun go? Wasn't it just out not too long before? As he carefully eased his achy body to a sitting position, he saw he was in a nylon jumpsuit.

Oh yeah.

He knew he’d been over the same thoughts before. Apparently he hadn’t figured anything out then either.

The drops that had been hitting him now came down faster and with more force, causing the paramedic to get soaked as they landed on his suit. Slipping in the wet grass as he got to his feet, Johnny slowly made his way back under one of the big trees using his walking stick. He leaned against the trunk, his head throbbing and his swollen wrist hurting.

I’ve gotta get help…can’t stay out here forever.

Johnny decided to try traveling along under the cover of the trees again. He could use one to lean on to rest if he needed to, and it was a lot less wet than being out in the open. At least for now. He involuntarily shivered as he felt a cool breeze on his already damp again clothing.

Since he had been heading west in an effort to keep the light longer the night before, Johnny continued that direction, hoping to run into civilization of some sort soon.

# # # # # # #

The crew traveled along as the rain came down harder, the drops splattering off their rain gear. Luckily no lightning accompanied the storm. No one wanted to think of himself or Johnny being in danger of a lightning strike or a forest fire caused by one. But the weather had slowed the search.

“Cap, Johnny’s out there with no rain gear,” Chet reminded, his brow furrowed in worry.

“Look, Kelly, I know you’re worried about John…we all are. We’re moving as fast as we can under the circumstances. I’m sure every group searching is.”

Chet nodded, his eyes downcast. Roy shook his head at the curly haired fireman. He was willing to bet Chet wouldn't talk Johnny into going on a daring adventure ever again.

# # # # # # #

While Chet was mentally beating himself up, the rest of 51's crew was busy making plans on how to deal with the newly developed fog. Rain they could handle, but the fog was certainly making things more challenging. Noticing that the guys were preoccupied, Chet wandered away from the group and found a mossy boulder to sit on. A chill ran up his spine and he closed his eyes. He wondered, Where are you, Gage?

When he opened his eyes he jumped up like something bit him and started shouting. "Guys! C'mere - quick!"

"What is it Chet?" asked Hank, while the rest of the crew jogged over to them.

"Look!" he excitedly pointed to a parachutist helmet.

Hank shook his head, "I know you want to find him, but how can you be sure it's John's?"

Still bouncing with excitement he replied, "On the back there should be a label with the name and address of the rental shop where we got the gear from. We went to Bruno's Bait Barn." Sure enough that was what Captain Stanley made out on the back of the wet, dirty helmet.

"Bruno's Bait Barn?" Queried a confused and suspicious Marco. "Now I've heard everything!"

"Bruno's an old friend. He rents and sells all kinds of sports equipment. You name it, he's got it from skis and saddles to reels and bait."

Roy shook his head and bent to retrieve the upside-down helmet. He drew in a sharp breath when he saw the large dent in it.

"Bruno's not gonna like that," remarked Chet without thinking. A harsh look from the rest of the crew shut him up.

"I don't care what Bruno likes or dislikes! Do you realize this means Johnny is wandering around out here somewhere with a head injury? God knows what other injuries he may have as well. We need to find him quick." DeSoto stalked off from the group to try and regain some control.

Hank spoke up, "Well at least we know we're on the right track. He was here and we know he's injured. He can't have gotten far." The lanky man paused before continuing, "Then again, one can never be sure with John Gage. I suppose we should let them know we're on the right track."

All eyes were drawn to Hank. He could read their thoughts. "It's proper procedure. That doesn't mean I like it any better than you do."

"Why don't we wait before we report what we found - at least until we can get more of a chance to look for Johnny ourselves?" offered Stoker.

"Mike, I'm surprised at you." Hank Stanley looked at his usually 'by-the-book' engineer and the others. "I suppose you all feel this way?" Their faces said it all; they wanted to be the ones to find John. "Well, I do too. Okay? But I still have to call it in." He held up a hand to stifle the growing protest. "I didn't say we had to wait for them. Just that we had to notify them. We just might need some help." This seemed to satisfy his men.

Roy was now standing at the edge of the trees, clutching the helmet in his hands. "The rain is bad enough, but this fog is making things impossible."

"Be patient, Roy. You know as well as I do that rain and fog are common place at this time of year. Fortunately these storms seem to leave as quickly as they arrive," Hank replied. He wished he could say something to ease his senior medic's fears.

"I’m anxious to find him, Cap.”

"I know, Roy. We all are." He placed a comforting hand on Roy's shoulder before turning to join the others.

# # # # # # #

Gage hadn't gone far when he had to stop and rest. It was getting increasingly harder to move on. He felt lousy and wondered if his headache would ever go away.

Sitting carefully on a fallen tree, he realized he might never find help. He stared out at the rain and fog while all manner of questions invaded his still fuzzy brain. The entire situation, compounded by his injuries, had him thoroughly depressed.

Maybe I should just stay here for a while. I have no idea how long I've been out here. Surely someone is looking for me by now. Roy wouldn't leave me here...would he? Man, I'd kill for a couple of aspirin right now. Hell, I wouldn't even mind being at Rampart. Gage, you're losing it!

# # # # # # #

The rain ended and the sun tried to shine through the dense fog, giving it an eerie glow. Chet, in a rush to find his missing comrade, picked up the pace. "All right, let's go, guys! Time's a wastin'."

"Slow down, Chet. Take it easy. Running off half-cocked can do more harm than good," reminded Hank. "We need to keep our wits about us. John's an experienced rescue man and camper, but he does have a head injury. He may not be thinking clearly so we need to keep a sharp look out. Let's not waste any time, but we can't afford to leave our good judgment behind either."

"Cap?"

"Yeah, Mike?"

"What if we split up into two groups? We might be able to cover more ground that way."

"I don't know if we should do that. We only have one H.T. How would we know if the other group finds him?"

"Maybe we can split up, but not go too far apart. You know, kind of fan out. We would all keep within sight of the next man."

"That might work. It's worth a try. What do you all think?"

The entire crew was willing to try. The group spread out and started combing the area for another sign of Gage. After an hour they had yet to find him.

"Where could he be?" asked a bewildered and frustrated DeSoto.

"Let's take a short break and then pick up where we left off. We couldn't have missed him, could we?" wondered Hank Stanley.

"I doubt it," said Roy.

Chet wasn't interested in a break and snuck away on his own hoping he'd find Gage. It was about thirty minutes before Hank realized Kelly was not with them. "Chet? Have you guys seen Chet? Chet! Where are you?" When he got no answer he swore to himself. He was as tired and frustrated as the rest and this was more than he could take.

"Cap?" asked Marco.

"Where'd Chet go? He better not have gone out on his own. I know he feels bad, but we don't need him lost out here, too."

Roy shook his head disgustedly. He couldn't believe that Chet would do this, then again... "When we find him, I'm gonna kill him."

"Sorry, Roy. I get him first," replied Hank. They spread out again to look for Chet, as well as Johnny.

A short time later, a slightly panicked shout from Marco brought the rest of the crew running. There, at the bottom of a steep hillside and barely visible in the fog, was Chet. He was holding his ankle and muttering to himself.

"Chet! Are you okay?" Marco called out.

"Aww...man. Marco, I think it's broken. It hurts like the devil."

Hank's worry and fear turned to anger then back to worry again very quickly. "How are we going to get him up here? Damn! We need to locate John and now this. I just can't believe this."

Mike, Roy and Marco exchanged surprised glances at their captain's words. Mike gathered their meager equipment together and they formulated a plan to 'rescue' Chet. It was decided that Roy would have to go down and splint Chet's ankle before they could bring him up.

Roy was less than pleased and couldn't wait to have it out with his shift-mate. While applying the splint he had words with Chet.

"I'm sorry Roy, really. I was hoping to find him and surprise you all. I feel so awful about this whole situation. Now I've made it worse. I can only imagine how Johnny feels right now. I was beginning to think you'd never find me."

A sudden pang of guilt washed over Roy when he realized Chet was sincere. They struggled to the top and Hank was forced to call for assistance in getting Chet back to the base camp.

"Is it broken?" Hank asked his senior paramedic.

"I don't think so, but he can't walk on it. We need to find Johnny and we have to report to work tomorrow. What are we gonna do?"

"We'll wait for help to come and take Chet back to the base camp and then we'll resume our search for Johnny," Captain Stanley sighed and looked at his watch realizing precious minutes were ticking away in their attempt to find Johnny. The rain, fog and Chet's ankle were just a few of the incidents holding them up. Now with the let-up of the rain, at least they could continue their search once Chet was taken care of. The sun looked like it was still trying to come out, but with the denseness of the forest, it was not penetrating enough to erase the fog. The fog just seemed to intensify with the last rainfall.

A couple of helpers found their way to where 51 was waiting for them. They loaded Chet into the stokes and turned to head back.

"Wait a minute, guys", Chet reached up and grabbed one the guy's arms.

"Cap, I'm really sorry about this. If. . . when you find Johnny, will you call the base camp and let me know? I'll go nuts waiting there not knowing what's going on."

"Sure, Chet, but you know, if you hadn't wandered off by yourself, you'd still be with us searching instead of helping Gage put gray hairs on my head," Captain Stanley gently reprimanded him.

"I know. Thanks, Cap," Chet eased back down on the stokes, completely dejected.

"Okay, guys, take him back. Roy, Mike, Marco, let's go. We'll fan out but not too far since this fog is still too thick to see through. It will be slow going, but we don't want to miss any sign that he's come this way," Stanley stated as he headed out.

# # # # # # #

Johnny wandered around for a while. He was getting tired, his head hurt and it was getting harder to see. He was cold even though it was getting warmer if not sunnier.

If only the sun could get through and burn this fog off so I could at least see where I'm going.

He sighed in frustration as he realized he was getting nowhere fast. He continued on not knowing which direction he was headed. The paramedic took a couple of more steps forward not realizing there was a drop in front of him. He plunged down off the edge. Part of the parachute Johnny had left on him ripped, snagged by some of the small branches sticking out of the prickly bushes leaving the only visible sign that Johnny had been there. He landed awkwardly on his back, wedged in a water run-off crevice. Upon landing, Johnny hit his head on a smooth-faced rock that protruded from the prison he was now held in. The fall happened so fast that he didn't even have time to yell.

# # # # # # #

The guys were getting frustrated. They'd been traveling all morning with no other signs that Johnny had gone the way they were headed. It was getting sticky in the forest, the bugs were biting and the guys were miserable. They marched on in silence, Roy deep in thought about Chet and his hair-brained ideas and big-hearted Johnny falling for it again. Every once in a while someone would slap his own neck as he got bitten, but they continued, thankful now that the fog was slowly lifting.

"Hold up, guys," Captain Stanley called out to the others. They came together to hear what he had in mind.

"The fog seems to be lifting. It might make it easier to see something that could lead us to believe that Johnny actually came this way. We'll fan out once more but we're only going for another hour and then we'll have to turn back and report in," Stanley reluctantly looked over at the guys, especially Roy, and could see the worry, pain and despair etched in his face.

"Cap, we can't turn back, not until we find Johnny. He'll never survive another night out here alone if he's hurt. He's already been without treatment too long as it is," Roy pleaded.

"Roy, I know how you feel, but we’ll have to turn back before very long since we do have to report for work tomorrow. That's just the way things are, pal," Stanley put his hand on Roy's shoulder in sympathy.

They fanned out once more and trudged on. The sun was now shining and making it through the thick forest wall casting glows on the forest floor. They had gone on for another half hour when Roy cried out excitedly, "Hey! Guys! Come quick. I think I found something!”

# # # # # # #

Walking over near the ledge, Roy could see the very tattered remains of a parachute tangled among the weeds and rocks. The end of it disappeared over the ledge of the ground.

Roy put up his hand to stop the others as they rushed over.

"We don't know how strong this ledge is."

"Well, by all means, let's get a rope on you, pal," Captain Stanley insisted. "Just in case it gives."

Roy walked back over to where the others were. He knew Cap was right. He didn't need to put himself at an unnecessary risk. After all, Chet had done that very thing earlier and had slowed down the rescue efforts. That reason, and the fact Joanne would most likely want to kill him if the fall didn't first, were enough to keep Roy thinking logically.

Once the rope was tied to Roy in a harness fashion, he got closer to the ledge and looked over.

There, not too far below, was Johnny. He was lying in a crevice, water running through it. His head rested on a rock edge and he appeared to be unconscious. Roy figured if Johnny moved his head at all, he most likely would drown. Roy looked back at the others.

"It's Johnny! Cap, we're gonna need a stokes!"

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief at finding Gage. They were well aware he wasn't out of danger yet. In fact they really had to hope he was still alive. But just the feeling of knowing where he was had been a tremendous load lifted off the shoulders of the men.

Captain Stanley radioed for the other crew of searchers to bring a stokes in with them. Everyone involved in the search was to meet at this site and do what they could in the rescue efforts.

With Marco and Mike holding his line that was also wrapped around a tree trunk, Roy went over the side to make sure first that Johnny was still alive and second, if he was, to do whatever he could for his partner until the stokes and more help arrived. If nothing else, he could at least keep Johnny's head above the water.

# # # # # # #

Roy's mind raced with all the possibilities of what he might face when he finally reached his partner while the guys lowered him into the drainage ditch. The going was slow and the rain soaked earth threatened many times to claim him for its own. He was quite muddy by the time he reached bottom.

Immediately he was at John's side wishing he had the squad's equipment at his disposal. Roy was thankful that his partner was still alive, feeling a weak carotid pulse and noting his shallow breathing. A quick 'thumb's up' to Stanley let the rest of the crew know that the worst possible scenario hadn’t come to pass. . .or at least not yet.

His concern grew when he noticed that the run-off was not slowing down. In fact it seemed to be coming a bit faster. The cold water sent a chill up his spine and he knew they didn't have much time.

The first thing he did was cut loose the remains of the parachute with his knife. Then he sliced through the nylon straps of the harness. Roy felt a small amount of satisfaction as he watched some of the nylon fabric and cording drift away in the water. His normally animated partner was too still for his liking and he commenced the secondary survey. This was made difficult by the way Johnny had landed in the ditch and he knew that would also affect his extrication.

He was concerned that his partner's left wrist was fractured and there was also some swelling in the area of his left collarbone. The fact that he had sustained a serious head injury was complicated by the very real possibility that he had already suffered a second head injury when he landed. The dented helmet was prominent in his thoughts.

DeSoto glanced up towards Captain Stanley and several of the men who had arrived with the crew that took Chet to the ranger station. Hank shook his head, indicating they still had to wait for the stokes and the rest of the crew.

Roy again looked at his silent friend. "You really know how to make things difficult for me, don't you, junior?" He would have given anything to hear his best friend answer with some lame excuse or a flash of his crooked grin. He sighed wearily and another shiver went up his spine. If he was this cold already, he knew Johnny had to be freezing. Hypothermia was almost a certainty at this point.

"Hey, Cap!" shouted DeSoto.

"Yeah, Roy?"

"When they get here with the equipment I'm gonna need a c-collar, a splint, something for a sling and some sand bags."

"Will do, Roy. They should be here soon."

"Good. This run-off isn't slowing down and I'd like to get him out of here before it gets much deeper. It's pretty tight quarters down here. I won't be able to get him in the stokes by myself."

"You want me to send someone down now or wait for the stokes?"

"It's best to wait. Like I said, there's not much room down here."

DeSoto turned his attention back to Johnny. The water had risen a little more and was getting closer to his face. He wanted to prop his partner's head up but had no idea if he was dealing with a serious neck and spinal injury yet. He scanned the muddy walls surrounding him and found a piece of bark that was about a foot wide by a foot long. He used it as a barrier to prevent the water from rushing up over Johnny's face. It worked, deflecting the water enough to buy them a little more time.

Looking up for a sign that help had arrived, he was overcome by another shiver.

# # # # # # #

Hank keyed the H.T. and sought an answer about the arrival of the equipment and supplies. He was told it would be another ten minutes. The only decent path to their location was slippery from the previous rains and it was taking longer than anticipated to trek through the mud.

"10-4," he replied. He understood their dilemma, but he was also anxious to get Gage back up here and to a hospital. Hank sighed and rubbed his hands over his face in frustration.

"Cap?" asked Mike.

"Yeah, Mike?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired of being forced to wait due to this lousy weather. John needs help yesterday and this weather is only slowing everything down more."

Marco nodded his agreement. "We all feel pretty helpless, Cap. Johnny needs to be at Rampart, but there’s not much we can do about that at the moment. Roy’s with him. He’ll be okay.”

"I better let Roy know that it's gonna be a little longer." Stanley leaned toward the ledge and hollered down to break the news to his senior paramedic. He could tell that the man was less than pleased.

# # # # # # #

What seemed like hours was in reality only a few minutes. Roy had been trying hard to keep his partner's head above the rising water. His makeshift barrier was no longer useful. Every movement worried him that his friend was suffering more needless trauma than necessary. The longer he had to wait the harder it was to remain calm.

Finally the ranger and his crew arrived with the equipment. Greg Jackson assessed the situation and chose one of the slimmest men in his group. "Randy, I'm gonna need you to go down and help - " he looked at Hank Stanley for input.

"DeSoto," Hank supplied.

"Thanks. Help DeSoto prep and move the victim." He saw the rest of Hank's men cringe at the use of the word 'victim' in reference to their fallen friend. "He's a paramedic so he knows how best to move and treat the vic-," he paused," his crewmate. Follow his lead and be careful. When you have -" he again looked to Hank, not wanting to refer to the injured man as 'victim' again.

Gratefully Hank answered, "Gage."

"When Gage is ready, let us know. We'll haul him up first, then DeSoto, and then you. It's going to be slow going back to the base camp. Hopefully the weather will have settled and we can get a helicopter in to transfer him from the base to the hospital." A nod from Randy Parker reassured the ranger that everything was understood. Parker quickly prepared to rappel into the crevice and in no time at all was on his way.

# # # # # # #

Roy breathed a sigh of relief when he was informed that he was finally going to get his partner out of this muddy prison. He wasn't claustrophobic, but he himself had had enough of this tight space.

"Boy am I glad to see you!" he smiled at the newly arrived man.

"I can imagine!" Parker replied as he stopped a few feet from the bottom looking for the best possible place to end his descent. After he touched down he moved to the other side of Johnny. "Hi. I'm Randy Parker. I hear you're a paramedic. Just let me know what you need me to do to help."

"I'm Roy. Can you radio up and tell them we need the stokes, c-collar, splint and sandbags."

Randy nodded as he spoke into the H.T. "Send down the stokes, a c-collar, splint, and some sandbags if we have any."

It only took a minute for the equipment to be delivered. Roy took the collar and applied it to his patient then decided to wait to affix the splint. Time was not on their side and they needed to move him quickly.

Roy explained to Randy how important it was to keep Johnny's head, neck and spine in a straight line to prevent further injury. They lay the stokes on its side in the water between Gage and one of the muddy walls. Roy figured if they lifted him, they could use their feet to slide the stokes underneath him, counting on the fact that it would lay flat as it went.

When he was sure they could manage it, they lifted Gage and slid the stokes under him. It was no easy task considering the close quarters and the bad terrain. Despite the gentleness they tried to maintain, Roy was certain the jostling would get a reaction from his partner. He was disappointed.

Quickly they fastened the straps on the stokes and attached the ropes. Roy placed a sandbag on either side of John's head to stabilize it further for the trip up. He had them raise the stokes a few feet then applied the splint to John's left wrist. When he finished he allowed them to haul Gage to the top.

Once Roy was topside he obtained his partner's vitals and covered him with several blankets. DeSoto could see the concern on the faces of his friends. "I'm just not sure. I've gotten no reaction from him, not even to pain. It’s not good."

"Half the battle is won, Roy. We have him and we're on our way to getting him medical attention. I guess a few prayers couldn't hurt either," replied Hank Stanley quietly.

"Let's get this show on the road. The sooner we get to the base the sooner he gets to the hospital," said Roy.

Mike looked at Roy and added, "Yeah. Maybe he and Chet will be roommates."

It was then they remembered they had yet to inform the stocky Irishman that Johnny had been found.

"A little extra worry isn't gonna kill him," answered Roy. "After all...this was all his idea." He looked disgustedly at his muddy clothes and then forced a smile again as they headed out.

# # # # # # #

“Well, Kelly, I’m pretty sure this isn’t broken, but there will be an ambulance up here in a bit to take you out to the little clinic in town,” the medic explained. “They have an x-ray machine and we can find out for sure.”

Chet winced as the medic at the ranger station pulled the splint more tightly around his injured ankle. It hurt like hell, but it was the last thing on his mind.

“No, it’s fine,” Kelly protested, pushing himself up to a sitting position on the cot he’d been deposited on. He tried to swing his legs over the side and stand, but the medic merely gripped the fireman’s injured leg and held on, sending a blazing pain up Chet’s leg. He found himself gasping for breath.

“Sure it is. You need x-rays. You need a doctor to check you out. I hear it was quite a fall you took.”

By now the pain had receded to a dull throb. “It was more like a slide. I didn’t hurt anything else, honest.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Look, . . . Bob,” he started, squinting to pull the man’s name off the nametag his shirt, “You said it’s not broken, so it’s fine. I’m not going anywhere until we get some word on Gage.” He left his injured leg on the bed, but put the other firmly on the floor. “Got it?”

Bob stood up and crossed his arms. “I said I didn’t think it was broken. . .only an x-ray can tell you that for sure. And if it is broken, the longer it goes unset, the more dangerous it is.”

Chet took in the man’s words without so much as a twitch to his determined expression, so the medic continued. “And I don’t see the point in you staying here, either. We’ll tell you as soon as word comes in, no matter where you are. There’s nothing you can do for him now anyway.”

“There is something I can do,” Chet argued. “I can be here waiting for him when they bring him in.” Kelly slumped dejectedly against the wall of the ranger station. “It’s the least I can do, since it’s my fault he’s out there in the first place.”

“Okay, suit yourself. But don’t say I didn’t warn you if you end up needing surgery on that ankle or something like that.” Chet moved his ankle slightly, and winced, an action the medic witnessed. He went to his kit and pulled out two pills. “Here. It’s Tylenol. That’s the most I can give you for pain out here.”

Chet took the pills and swallowed them dry. “Thanks,” he said, meaning for both the painkillers and the concession.

“Yeah, whatever,” Bob mumbled.

Chet tried to relax, but failed miserably. All he could think about was what was happening out in the forest, and thinking the worst. If he’d gotten this messed up just sliding down a hill, he couldn’t help but let his imagination run away with all the possible injuries Johnny might have experienced when he fell out of the sky.

His contemplation was interrupted by a burst of noise from the radio in the other room, and a flurry of activity among the people there.

“What?” he shouted. “What’s happening?” When no one immediately answered him, Chet tried to stand. The pain was immense, but he didn’t care. He balanced himself precariously on one leg, and hopped from one piece of furniture to the next, making his way to the doorway. Something was happening. He was sure of it.

He was halfway to the door when Bob came through it. “What do you think you’re doing?” the medic asked sternly.

“Something’s happening,” Chet said. “Did they find him?”

“As a matter of fact,” Bob offered as he fit the fireman’s arm around his shoulders and led him back to the cot, “they did.” He deposited his patient back on the bed perhaps a little too roughly than was warranted.

“And?” Chet asked impatiently.

“He’s alive. Okay? Now let’s get you to the clinic.”

“No!” Kelly protested. “I wanna see him. We can go together.”

“You can’t,” Bob said, his voice finally tinged with a little kindness. “They’ve decided not to bring him back here. They’re gonna transport him to the nearest clearing where a helicopter is airlifting him to a hospital with better emergency facilities than anything we have out here. Probably Rampart back in the city.”

Chet knew the full implication of what he was being told. “He’s hurt that bad?” he asked.

“They didn’t give us any details, but yeah. It sounds like he’s hurt pretty bad.”

Kelly buried his face in his hands. “Damn, damn, damn!” he mumbled as he shook his head.

“Look, Kelly,” Bob started compassionately. “Let’s get you taken care of. The sooner you get that x-ray, the sooner you can catch back up with your friends in the city, okay?”

Chet realized he didn’t have much choice at this point. “You sent the ambulance back, didn’t you?” he asked.

Bob smiled. “Yeah, but you’re doing okay. We’ll give you a lift in one of our vehicles. I’ll drive ya myself.”

“Thanks, man,” Kelly said with a weary grin. “You’re okay.”

Bob didn’t say a word; he just went to a closet, opened it, and pulled out a pair of crutches. “You know how to use these?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” The fireman fitted the crutches under his arms. They were set a little too tall for him, but it would do if all he needed to do was get to a car. He hobbled his way to the front door of the station and out.

The sound of a helicopter, flying low overhead, was the first thing Chet noticed. He looked up, but couldn’t see the bird. “Is that them?” he asked anxiously.

“That’s them going in to get him, I’d wager,” Bob explained. “Let’s get going.” He walked ahead to one of the Ranger trucks and pulled the passenger door open. “Hop in.”

Chet did as instructed, pausing once more to look up at the sky. It was dusk; they’d found Johnny just in time, he realized. Any later and it would have been too dark for the helicopter to find a place to land in the dense forest.

“Small favors,” Chet mumbled as he leaned his head back wearily once safely in the truck.

“What’s that?” Bob asked as he climbed in behind the wheel.

“At least they found him before dark. That’s something, I guess.”

“Sure is,” the medic agreed as he revved the engine and pulled out.

# # # # # # #

"Roger, Copter One, we'll see you there." Ranger Jackson tucked the HT into his belt and turned to the other members of the rescue team with a smile. "We're in luck. The pilot spotted a meadow about half a mile east of here big enough for him to land. It's a hell of a lot closer than the base station but it'll be rough going carrying the stokes."

"We can handle it," Hank assured him. "The sooner we get Johnny to the hospital the happier I'll be."

"Well, let's get going then. We're burning daylight."

Each of the four remaining members of A-shift grabbed a corner of the stokes and hefted it off the ground. "We're ready," Cap announced. "Lead the way."

The ranger wasn't kidding when he said it would be rough going. They fought their way through dense undergrowth, up and down rocky embankments and across a small, rushing stream. Even though the other rescuers offered to take a turn carrying the stokes, Johnny's shift mates refused, insisting on transporting their injured friend themselves. All in all, it took nearly forty minutes to traverse the distance and they were shaking with fatigue by the time they reached the meadow.

There was no time to rest however, as the pilot rushed to meet them shouting, "Come on, guys, we gotta go! That storm is gaining strength again and I gotta get this bird off the ground in ten minutes or we're not going anyway."

"You heard the man," Hank shouted. "Let's move."

Five minutes later, the helicopter lifted off, carrying Johnny and Roy to safety.

The remaining men exchanged a weary, but relieved, look and began the long, cold, wet trip back to the base station.



# # # # # # #


As soon as the chopper was airborne, Roy got on the radio to Rampart and got orders for an IV. Johnny was badly dehydrated and desperately in need of fluids. As soon as the D5W was running, DeSoto grabbed a stack of blankets from the on board supply and used them to replace the now sodden blankets that covered his partner.

As he tucked the covers securely around the dark-haired man's shoulders, Johnny groaned and tried to shift away. Roy smiled. Gage was waking up. It was a very good sign.

"Johnny? Johnny can you hear me? Open your eyes."

"Huh ... what?" Johnny groaned and swatted at the hand that was gently shaking his shoulder. "Go 'way," he mumbled. "Leave me 'lone."

"Johnny, come on now, open your eyes." The shaking persisted and the voice got a little louder but this time Gage's muddled brain supplied a name.

"Roy?" Johnny opened his eyes, caught a quick glimpse of his partner's smiling face, then slammed his eyelids shut again as the world dipped sickeningly.

"You're in the med-evac helicopter on your way to Rampart," DeSoto supplied the answer to his unasked question.

"Why? What happened?" Johnny opened his eyes to mere slits and peered cautiously up at the other man.

"What do you remember?"

"I dunno." Johnny closed his eyes as the helicopter banked again. He tried to concentrate, tried to remember how he might've gotten himself into this predicament but he was shivering uncontrollably with cold, his head was pounding and he felt increasingly nauseated. "Dunno," he repeated. "Cold, head hurts bad, can't think. What the hell happened to me, Roy?"

As he filled his bleary friend in on the events of the past two days, Roy conducted a quick exam, checking Johnny's pupils with a penlight, testing his reflexes and getting another set of vitals.

"Sky-diving?" Johnny stared at DeSoto incredulously. "Really?"

"Yep."

"Sky-diving with ... Chet?"

"Uh huh."

"Why would I do a damn fool thing like that?" he wondered aloud.

"Don't look at me," Roy chuckled as the helicopter circled Rampart and began its ascent. "I told you not to go."

"Well, next time you tell me not to do something make me listen, would ya?"

"That'll be the day, pal." DeSoto said with a grin. "That'll be the day."


# # # # # # #

By the time Hank Stanley and the others made their way out of the forest, picked up Chet at the clinic, and drove back to L.A. nearly three hours had passed. They were cold, exhausted and starving but never gave a thought to going home. They had to go to Rampart and find out if Gage was okay before they could relax.

They straggled wearily into the emergency room, Chet sporting a new cast and a pair of crutches. They were greeted by a smiling Dixie McCall. "Had a feeling you boys would show up sooner of later," she said. "Go on down to the staff lounge. There's plenty of hot coffee and some blankets waiting for you."

"John..." Cap began.

"Is doing just fine." she reassured, shooing them down the hall. "Roy's with him and you can see him yourselves in a little while. But for now, go on and get warmed up. I'll let Dr. Brackett know you're here and he'll be in to talk to you."

Dixie was as good as her word. Ten minutes later the four men were ensconced in the lounge, wrapped in blankets, sipping hot coffee and getting an update from Kelly Brackett.

"He's going to be just fine," the doctor announced as he entered the room. He poured his own cup of coffee and carried it over to perch on the sofa next to Hank. "We examined and x-rayed him from stem to stern and he's in remarkably good shape all things considered."

"His head?" Cap questioned.

"Must be made of steel," Kel chuckled. "No skull fracture, no sign of bleeding in the brain. He's got a couple of good-sized goose eggs and a moderately severe concussion, but it's nothing a couple days rest won't cure. He was dehydrated and hypothermic when he got here but we've been pumping warmed fluids into him and both of those conditions are pretty much resolved. He's got a couple of fractures ... his left wrist and collarbone and a couple of ribs on the right side ... that will keep him out of commission for a while but they're relatively minor."

"So, he's really okay?" Chet asked tremulously.

"Yeah, Chet, he's okay." Kel reached out and squeezed the distraught man's shoulder reassuringly. "I don't see any reason why he won't make a full recovery and be back at work driving you crazy in six or eight weeks."

"Thank God," Kelly whispered, burying his face in shaking hands. "Thank God."

"Thank God and Gage's freak good luck," Brackett smiled, giving Chet's shoulder another squeeze. "He's been admitted and we're going to keep him for a couple days as a precaution. I was just on my way up to check on him if you want to tag along."

"Yeah, Doc, thanks," Hank spoke on behalf of all the men. "We'd like that."

"Well, follow me then and we'll go see the man of the hour."

# # # # # # #

The nurse at the desk warily eyed the bedraggled men stepping off the elevator behind Dr. Brackett. She was about to speak when Brackett addressed the tall, lanky man in the odd little group.

"He's pretty worn-out so I want this visit kept short, understand?"

"You bet, Doc. We need to be heading home anyway. We're on-shift at 8:00 in the morning."

Brackett opened the door and motioned for the men to wait outside. Roy soon joined them in the hallway. Marco glanced at the nurse’s station to find the nurse still looking at them like they had come from Mars.

Ten minutes later Dr. Brackett opened the door and motioned for the rest of A-shift to come in. "He may not stay awake long. I'm afraid the nurse has already given him his pain meds." Brackett then quietly left the close-knit group together.

"John?" asked Captain Stanley. He glanced at Roy for assurance that Gage was really okay.

"Hmmm...mmm," he murmured trying to open his eyes again. "Cap?"

"Yeah, pal. Marco, Mike, and Chet are here too. How're you feeling?"

"Not too good right now. Head hurts. Hurts all over...tired," he said stifling a yawn.

"We just wanted to make sure you were all right. We need to get home or we'll never make it to work on time in the morning."

Johnny looked at his commanding officer through half open eyes. "Oh man. I'm sorry..." he added and drifted back to sleep.

Cap looked over at Roy, "What's he sorry for?"

"I dunno. Maybe he thinks this is all his fault. You know, I talked to him in the helicopter and he didn't remember anything."

"Nothing at all?" Hank asked in disbelief.

"Nothing," replied Roy.

Chet was sitting quietly off to the side listening to the exchange. His guilt level increased exponentially. Oh man. He's hurt worse than I thought.

"C'mon, guys. Let's go. John needs his rest and we do have to work tomorrow."

They all said their farewells and exited behind Hank. Roy was the last to leave.

Placing a hand on Johnny's uninjured arm, "You sure know how to liven things up, junior." He smiled and left to join the others.

# # # # # # #

The following day a very tired A-shift reported for duty. Charlie Dwyer asked Roy where his partner was and Roy gave him the condensed version of what had happened. He was stunned to say the least.

Captain Stanley asked Dwyer if he would stay until a replacement for John could be found. Hank had been able to find a replacement for Chet before going to bed the night before, but was unable to find an available paramedic.

The morning proved to be uneventful. DeSoto was not happy to learn that Brice was coming in at noon to take over for Dwyer. Hank apologized and said that no one else had been available.

On each run that afternoon, Roy attempted to check on his injured partner despite Brice's disapproval. His efforts were hindered by the fact that Johnny slept almost all day long.

The mood in the station could only be described as somber. A comment was made that even Chet's antics were missed.

51's A-shift had an easy night with the engine only having two minor calls. The men were eagerly awaiting the next shift's arrival. They quickly exchanged pleasantries and hit the locker room to change. The four regular shift-mates agreed to meet in the cafeteria at Rampart. Marco was the last to arrive because he went to pick Chet up at home. He wouldn't be driving for a few weeks.

After a quick cup of coffee, the assembled group headed for the elevator. Stepping off, Marco looked towards the nurse’s station. He breathed a sigh of relief and Roy asked him what was wrong.

"Oh nothing. That nurse the other night kept looking at us funny. You know, like we were from another planet."

"Well, we were a pretty sorry-looking bunch," Mike replied and they all laughed.

A nurse was leaving the room when they arrived at the door.

"Are you here to see Mr. Gage?" she asked.

"Yes. Is he able to have visitors?" Hank asked the young woman.

"He's awake and I'm sure he'd love the company," she smiled and continued on to the next room.

Cautiously the five men entered the room. Smiles broke out all around when Johnny looked up and saw them. "Hi, guys. Good to see you," he said quietly.

"How're you feeling today, John?" Hank asked.

"A little better. Still sore as heck and tired, but better than the other day."

"That's great news, pal. We were pretty worried about you."

"Sorry, Cap."

"Don't be. Just don't do it again," he laughed. Johnny smiled, but Roy could see he was still bothered by his lack of memory.

"I don't plan on it."

The look in his eyes wasn't missed by anyone in the room. Chet looked away while the others chatted quietly with Gage. A short time later they felt it was time to leave. Johnny thanked his friends for the visit.

"Johnny, I'll see you later," Roy said as he got ready to follow the others who had already left.

"Okay. Tell Jo and the kids I said hello."

"Will do, partner."

# # # # # # #

Halfway to the elevator Chet stopped. "Uh, guys? You go on ahead. I forgot something."

"Okay Chet. Want me to wait downstairs for you?" Marco asked with a feeling he knew what Chet was up to.

"Thanks, Marco."

Chet Kelly slowly made his way back to Gage's room. He hesitated with his hand on the door. Mustering up the courage to enter, he knocked lightly while he pushed the door open.

"Come in," was Johnny's quiet reply. "Hey, Chet. What's up?" he smiled, seeing his nemesis.

Chet stared at Johnny before sitting down and answering. "I...uh...just wanted to talk to you...alone."

"Oh. You were kinda quiet earlier. Rough night?"

"Sort of," he mumbled. He did not want to reveal how he had lain awake most of the night because of his guilty conscience.

"Huh?"

"Johnny, I wanted to - Man this is harder than I thought."

"I'm confused. What's wrong?"

"Then you really don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

"What happened the last couple days."

Johnny stopped and thought for a minute. "No. The last thing I remember before waking up here was leaving the station after shift. Why?"

Chet sat thinking about all of this. He realized he had an 'easy out' here. Gage remembered nothing, so technically he was off the hook. He could beg off and leave and Johnny would be none the wiser.

"Chet? You okay, man?"

"Yeah. No. No I'm not."

"Is it your leg? You never told me how you did that."

"No. Leg's fine, it's me."

I can't believe this! He's seriously injured and lying here because of me and he’s worried about my leg. Gage, you are incredible.

"Chet, I still have a killer headache and this isn't helping. What's wrong? Talk to me," Johnny said a bit impatiently.

"This is all my fault."

"What's all your fault?"

"You being here. The whole skydiving thing was my idea and I kinda forced you into it," he paused and looked everywhere but at his friend. "I'm really sorry. If I hadn't brought it up, you wouldn't have gotten hurt."

"You don't know that," he tried to console his friend.

"Yeah I do. Jumping out of an airplane is a dangerous thing to do."

"I know. I've done it before."

Chet didn’t answer, his thoughts still on all the things that went wrong the day they skydived.

“Brackett said I may never remember what happened,” Johnny continued. He could see Chet was still brooding over the whole thing. “So tell me, what did happen?”

Chet still couldn’t bring himself to look directly at Johnny. "Well, The first jump was fine. It was incredible. You even seemed to enjoy it. Then the second jump. . .” Chet shrugged. “Everything went down hill shortly after you jumped out.”

"Did you get hurt jumping too?"

"No, I went looking for you and took a wrong turn in the fog. Kinda stupid huh?"

"I'm touched, Chet. You really went looking for me?"

"Yeah I did."

"I don't know what to say."

Chet hesitated before continuing. He knew he was taking a risk, but decided it was worth it. "Say you forgive me for not listening to you when you said you didn't want to go. Say you forgive me for forcing the issue until you gave in," he said sadly. Once again, Chet couldn't look Johnny in the eye because he didn't want him to see how upset he was about this.

Johnny thought about what his friend was asking. He could tell the man was sincere.

"Chet - look at me."

Chet looked at the bed.

"Chet. Look at me," he repeated.

Chet looked at Johnny's chest.

"My eyes are up here," Gage pointed with his right index finger.

Slowly Chet complied, fearful that this display of emotion could somehow be used against him someday.

"I forgive you. Even though I don’t think it’s your fault. And I have no idea what happened anyway.”

"Thanks, Gage. I won't do this to you again. . .honest," he said looking back down.

"Chet, don't make promises you won't keep," Johnny replied with a hint of humor in his dark eyes. "I've let it happen too many times in the past for it not to happen again in the future."

Chet looked back up at Gage, studying his face. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Once a pigeon, always a pigeon."

The two men shared a laugh.

"Well I guess I better go before Marco leaves me behind. It's a long walk home," Chet said with the remains of a smile on his face.

Pointing at Chet's cast, "You really did that looking for me?"

"Sure did, pal, and I'd do it again, too."

"Thanks man. Maybe when I get out of here we can go for a beer."

"Who's gonna drive?" Kelly asked indicating their various injuries.

"I don't shift with my left arm you twit! Go on and get outta here. If Marco leaves you here, I'll be stuck with you."

Laughing and hobbling towards the door on his crutches, Chet replied, "Catch ya late, Gage."

Johnny closed his eyes and sighed. He wondered if he would ever remember what happened. It didn't really matter because he knew he had good friends to help him get through it all.