Disclaimer: The characters from Emergency! do not belong to me. They belong to Universal and Mark VII. I’m just having a little fun and adventure with them.
And Then the Rains Came
By: Vanessa Sgroi
The muted barrage grew louder as, what had previously been a steady, light rain turned suddenly into a cloudburst. The downpour obscured visibility as it pounded against the windows.
“Ah, damn it.”
Johnny Gage swore as he spied the barricade across the road. It was closed due to high water. Slowing the Land Rover, Gage glanced through the rain-streaked windows before making a U-turn and heading back the way he came. Getting to work this morning was proving to be difficult. This was the second detour Johnny had had to make. Sighing in frustration, he mentally mapped out a new route to work.
Some time later, Johnny finally pulled into the parking lot behind Station 51. He looked at his watch and groaned.
8:36? Man, Cap’s gonna kill me!
Taking a deep breath, Johnny shoved open his car door and plunged out into the cold rain. He sprinted to the station. Through the door in a matter of seconds, Johnny skidded to a stop just over the threshold and stood dripping water onto the floor. Wiping the moisture from his face, the young paramedic hurried to the apparatus bay.
“Sorry I’m late, Cap. I hit two detours on the way in and even with leavin’ early . . .” Johnny bit his lip in trepidation, expecting a lecture from his superior.
“Don’t worry about it, John. We all were a little late getting here this morning due to the weather.”
Gage glanced at his co-workers and immediately noticed they looked as damp and bedraggled as he did at the moment. Relief coursed through him as he took his place in line next to his partner.
Announcements during roll call consisted mostly of weather-related news, and it went quickly. After dismissal, the crew adjourned to the kitchen for some hot coffee.
Conversation naturally turned to the inclement weather pummeling all of Los Angeles County. It had been raining nearly non-stop for the last three days, and weather reports predicted the storms to continue to roll inland for days to come.
“Man, this is crazy. It’s not supposed to rain like this in Los Angeles,” Johnny grumbled.
“The weatherman said it was all because of something called ‘El Niño’ ’’, answered Marco.
Chet frowned. “El Niño? What’s that?”
Marco shrugged. “It means ‘The Boy’ in Spanish. I guess it’s some kind of disturbance way out in the ocean. That’s all the weatherman said.”
Roy tipped his cup back and finished the rest of his coffee in one gulp. He stood and glanced at his partner.
“I’m going to get started on supply inventory. You coming?”
Gage pushed his chair back from the table.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m coming.”
<*> <*> <*>
It didn’t take the paramedics long to review the medical supplies and calibrate the biophone. Just as Roy shut the last compartment on the squad, the klaxons sounded.
“Station 51. Person trapped. Intersection of Canyon View and Old Kilbourne Road. Canyon View and Old Kilbourne Road. Time out – 0923.”
The crew quickly donned their turnout coats and helmets, manned their vehicles, and exited the station in less than a minute. The day had darkened as thick storm clouds continued to dump rain. Cloud-to-cloud lightning could be seen off in the distance.
It took them ten minutes to reach their destination. A visual evaluation showed a car trapped by high water rushing at a good clip down Canyon View. The young driver had apparently tried to cross and failed. He was now hanging out the driver’s side window. Spying the rescue vehicles, the man started to climb out.
“Stay where you are,” yelled Captain Stanley, “we’ll come and get you.”
The man reluctantly quit his struggle to exit the car.
“I’ll go out, Cap,” DeSoto volunteered.
Stanley nodded. “Let’s get the ropes.”
Minutes later, Roy was pushing his way through the water toward the car, the safety rope trailing behind him. The waist high water was moving swiftly and threatened to take Roy’s feet right out from under him.
Finally, closing in on the vehicle, he called out and saw a young boy’s, rather than a man’s, face emerge through the window.
“What’s you name, son?”
“S-Sam.”
“Okay, Sam, let’s get you out of there. I’m gonna . . .”
“No! You gotta help Missy!”
“Missy?” Roy didn’t see anyone else in the car.
“She’s lying on the back seat. She . . . she won’t w-wake up.”
A surge of water pushed Roy against the car. He tightened his grip on the edge of the door. Turning his head, Roy yelled out at the top of his lungs.
“Cap! I have a second victim. Unconscious. Send Johnny out.”
The rain continued to pour down and rushing water was rising at a steady rate. Roy knew they were going to have to move fast once his partner reached the vehicle. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Johnny was near.
“Okay, Sam, my partner is almost here. We’re gonna get you both out.”
The blond boy nodded, his teeth chattering from both nerves and cold.
DeSoto glanced at Johnny when he arrived moments later.
“Johnny, this is Sam. And Sam’s sister is in the back seat. He tells me she won’t wake up.” Roy spoke calmly, keeping all worry from his voice.
Gage nodded and pulled on the handle of the back door. It didn’t budge.
“Hey, Sam, do you think you can roll down the back window?”
“I . . . I think so.” The boy stretched over the seat and twisted the handle, lowering the window. Just as he finished, a hard surge of water caused the car to lurch away from the paramedics. It traveled a couple of yards before stopping. Sam cried out in terror.
Realizing their time was about to run out, the two paramedics struggled over to the car once more.
“Roy, I’ll get the girl. Take Sam and go.”
While Gage wiggled partially through the back window, DeSoto quickly tied a safety rope around the boy and coaxed him out of the car and into his arms. He then began the arduous task of getting Sam to dry land.
Meanwhile, Johnny was struggling to get a hold of the unconscious girl in the backseat. His position was awkward, and he had little leverage. Finally, however, he managed to get his hands under her shoulders and began inching her across the seat. The car groaned and moved forward, pushed by a hastening current.
It’s now or never.
As quickly as he could, Johnny maneuvered Missy through the window. With her in his arms, he turned and started back toward the crew waiting along the banks of what was now nearly a river. Halfway there, a particularly hard efflux of water sent the car careening away. Simultaneously, it forced Johnny’s feet out from under him, and he and the girl went under.
After several tense moments, the dark-haired paramedic resurfaced with Missy still in his arms. Spitting water, he struggled to regain his feet but couldn’t manage the task. Keeping her head above water, he tiredly began a one-armed swim, assisted by the crew pulling on his rope.
Marco was waiting when Johnny stumbled ashore. Handing over the victim, Gage sank to his knees, coughing. After a few seconds, he stood and rushed to Roy’s side to help treating Missy.
Roy glanced at Sam who sat, huddled and shivering beneath a yellow blanket on the front seat of the squad, Roy said, “Sam, how old is your sister?”
“S-s-sixteen. I . . . I’m eleven. She’s sixteen.”
“Do you know what happened to her? Did she fall?”
The young boy shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t think so. I was outside looking for my dog, Rolly. I came in to get him a bone, and Missy was acting all funny. I got scared and told her I’d take her to a doctor. Made her lay down on the backseat. I know I wasn’t supposed to drive but . . .”
“It’s okay, son. Where are your parents?”
“My mom is on a business trip. I don’t have a dad no more.”
Given the emergent nature of the situation, Roy asked Vince Howard to place the girl in protective custody so the paramedics could treat her. The officer immediately complied.
Johnny set up the biophone and initiated contact with Rampart while Roy began a quick physical exam and obtained vitals. To circumvent the pouring rain, Captain Stanley, Mike, Chet, and Marco used one of the yellow blankets to form a makeshift canopy.
While Gage repeated vitals to Dr. Brackett, Roy started the girl on oxygen. Within minutes, he had implemented the doctor’s treatment instructions and was relieved to see the ambulance finally arrive. He had a feeling time was running out for Missy.
Within minutes, DeSoto was climbing into the ambulance for the trip to Rampart.
<*> <*> <*>
At the hospital, Johnny backed the squad up to the emergency room entrance next to the ambulance. He helped Sam out of the passenger seat and walked with him to the Nurses’ Station. Dixie McCall was seated behind the counter. She looked up as they drew close.
“Well, now, who is this handsome young man?” she asked with a smile.
“Dix, this is Sam.”
“Hello, Sam. I’m Dixie.”
Still wrapped in the yellow blanket, Sam nervously pulled it together and mumbled, “Where’s my sister?”
“She’s right over there in that room with the doctor,” McCall pointed to Treatment Room 2.
“Is . . . is she gonna be okay?”
“She’s in good hands, Sam. Dr. Brackett is one of the best doctors around.”
Sam shivered beneath the blanket.
“Tell you what. Let’s get you somewhat dry and warm,” Dixie glanced down the hallway. “Sharon, will you please get Sam here a couple of towels to dry off, and then take him to the cafeteria for hot chocolate?”
Sharon nodded and put her arm around the boy’s shoulder, leading him away.
The nurse turned to the dark-haired paramedic, noting his wet hair and clothes.
“How about you, Johnny? Would you like a towel?”
“Nah,” he swept a hand through his damp hair, “that’s all right.”
The door to Treatment Room 2 opened and Roy exited the room.
Gage looked at him expectantly as he approached the desk. His partner shook his head.
“It’s touch and go.”
Johnny lowered his eyes as guilt settled on his shoulders. He thought of the long seconds he and the girl had been underwater.
“It’s not your fault.”
Johnny looked up in response to his partner’s firm words.
“But if I . . .”
“Brackett thinks she OD’d. Besides if you hadn’t gotten her out of the car, she definitely wouldn’t be here.”
Reluctantly, Johnny nodded at that small consolation.
They bid Dixie goodbye and walked out to the squad. Johnny was quiet all the way back to the station.
<*> <*> <*>
Roy backed Squad 51 into the station and turned off the ignition. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his partner shiver and rub a hand over his face.
“You gonna shower?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Why don’t you go first then—I can wait.”
Johnny nodded and slid out the door. “Save me a cup of coffee.”
The senior paramedic wandered into the kitchen and found the rest of Station 51’s crew seated at the table, drinking coffee. In the middle of the table sat a half-eaten coffee cake. As he moved to the cupboard for a cup, he said, “That looks good. Where’d it come from?”
Captain Stanley smiled. “Mrs. Sapperstein. Remember her?”
“Sapperstein? Oh, the elderly couple whose garage caught on fire. We had to run him in for an angina attack.”
Hank nodded. “That’s them. She showed up about a half hour ago with this little thank you gift. You better get some before it’s gone.”
“Man, she came all the way out in this rain for that?”
“She said her and Artie were getting cabin fever being stuck inside, so she made him bring her over.”
Roy sipped his coffee and sat down. “She’s a sweet lady.” Reaching for the knife, he cut a generous piece of the coffee cake with gooey white icing and placed it on a napkin. The first bite was a little bit of Heaven.
“Mmm. That’s good. Johnny will be thrilled.”
“Speaking of my pigeon, where is he?” mumbled Chet around his last bite of cake.
“Went to take a shower. I hope this coffee cake cheers him up. He’s bummed about the girl’s condition.” Roy went on to share what he’d learned from Dr. Brackett.
The crew all shook their heads at the news. Hank cleared his throat and commented, “I feel bad for her little brother too. He was trying so hard to help her.”
“I can’t believe,” Marco interjected, “that the mother just left the two of them alone while she went on a business trip.”
DeSoto nodded in agreement. “She probably thought 16 was old enough and responsible enough.” Roy had just finished his statement when Johnny walked into the kitchen. The crew let the subject drop.
Running his fingers through his damp hair, Johnny walked over and grabbed a mug from the cupboard. After pouring some coffee, he took a seat at the table. Chet silently pushed the coffee cake toward the paramedic.
“Where’d this come from?” Johnny asked as he reached for the knife.
“Mrs. Sapperstein.”
“Sapper . . . oh, the angina attack a couple of weeks back.”
Roy swallowed the last of his coffee and stood. “It’s nice to be remembered occasionally, huh?” He placed his empty cup in the sink and stretched. “My turn for the shower.”
A few minutes after Roy left the kitchen Marco, Mike, and Chet drifted away to attend to individual chores, leaving Captain Stanley and Johnny at the table. As Johnny crumbled his cake more than ate it, Cap stood and came around the corner of the table. Gage felt a hand on his shoulder.
“John, don’t beat yourself up. Some things you can’t control.”
The younger man sighed. “Yeah, Cap, I know. I know.”
The telephone rang and Cap turned to answer it. While the older man was occupied, Johnny slipped from the room.
<*> <*> <*>
Fifteen minutes later, Roy found Johnny under the hood of the squad fiddling with the engine.
“Hey, Johnny, Cap just told me that Joanne called while I was in the shower. She talked to Cap’s wife, and they’ve both volunteered to try to keep us supplied in uniforms today.”
A grunt sounded under the hood before Johnny stood upright, a streak of grease trailing across his right cheek. “Sounds good.”
“Still looking for the new mystery squeak?”
“Yeah, I figured . . .”
Johnny’s reasoning was cut off by the sound of the klaxons.
“Station 51, Engine 10, structure fire, 7676 Coral Boulevard, cross street Stafford. That’s 7-6-7-6 Coral Boulevard, cross street Stafford. Time out: 11:46.”
Captain Stanley quickly responded to the call as Johnny dropped the hood and slipped into the passenger side of the rescue squad. Seconds later both vehicles were on their way to the call.
The crew from Station 51 arrived on scene to find smoke showing from the rear of a single-story gray house. A middle-aged brunette still dressed in a patterned robe and scuffed slippers, stood on the front lawn, alternately waving and wringing her hands. She seemed oblivious to the rain.
The engine stopped first with the squad close behind. Captain Stanley barked out orders as he jogged to the woman.
“Ma’am? Is anyone inside?”
She gazed blearily at him, blinking a few times against the rain. Stanley was surprised at the strong odor of alcohol emanating from the woman so early in the day.
“Ma’am?”
“Tiny’s in there!”
Immediately thinking she was referring to a dog or cat, the Captain said, “Tiny?”
“Yuh. My—hic—m-my husband. Tiny.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“Wha?”
Hank sighed in frustration. “Nevermind. Roy, John—we’ve got a victim in there.”
The two paramedics quickly masked up and headed through the front door. Inside, the front room was smoky but not hot, and they hurriedly made their way toward the back of the house. Coming to a short hallway, the two men split up; Johnny turning to the right and Roy to the left. Gage discovered their victim all of five seconds later and felt his mouth drop open in surprise. Tiny, all 6’ 6” of him, stood in the middle of the kitchen grilling food on an outdoor grill. More shocking, though, was that he was completely nude.
“Tiny?” yelled Johnny, his voice muffled because of the face mask.
When Tiny failed to turn around, Gage reached up and pulled off his mask. He called out again. Surprised at the lack of response, the paramedic called out to his partner to let him know he’d found the man and then approached Tiny from behind.
“Sir,” began Johnny, “you really shouldn’t . . .” As he spoke, Gage reached out and grasped the man’s shoulder. Startled, Tiny jumped and instinctively threw up an arm, catching the paramedic on the cheek.
“OW!”
DeSoto cleared the door just in time to see the mishap. Realizing he no longer needed his mask, he promptly removed it.
Tiny stood staring in surprise at the two men in his kitchen.
“Johnny, you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m all right.” While Roy contacted Captain Stanley on the HT, Johnny chastised Tiny. “Sir, you can’t do that inside. It’s dangerous.”
“WHAT?”
“You can’t grill indoors. It’s dangerous!”
“HUH? WHAT? WHAT’D YOU SAY?”
“I SAID . . .”
“OOPS! WAIT! WAIT A MINUTE!” Tiny reached up and plucked ear plugs from his ears. “There that’s better.” He swigged at the beer in his hand.
“Sir, we need to move the grill outside. It’s not safe in here.”
“Ahh, c’mon. Those’re perfect burgers.”
This time Roy added his voice to the mix. “Sorry, sir. We’ll take it out back for you.”
“But . . . but it’s RAINING out there.”
Captain Stanley spoke from the doorway. “Raining or not, Mr. Lindstrom, we can’t let you have that in here.” With his chin, Hank motioned for the two paramedics to carry the grill outside. Once they finished, they returned to the kitchen and partially opened two of the windows to air the room out.
As they passed Tiny on the way out, Johnny’s curiosity got the best of him.
“What’s with the earplugs?”
“Huh?”
“The earplugs? Why’d you have earplugs in?”
Tiny guffawed loudly. “Ahhhhh, those were so I didn’t hafta listen to Helen’s complainin’ about the grill.”
Gage shook his head and bit his lip against a smile. When Tiny made to follow them through the door, the paramedic finally chuckled and said, “You . . . you might wanna get a towel or . . . something.”
Tiny looked down at his lack of attire. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, good idea.”
A minute later, as Gage opened the squad door, he heard, “Oh, Tiny, I’m so glad you’re okay, sugar!” He looked up to see Helen throw her arms around her husband massive bulk. At her enthusiasm, Tiny lost his grip on the towel, and it fell to the ground.
Once in the squad, he looked at his partner and smirked. “Well, that was a new one.”
“Yep. One for the books.”
Johnny chuckled. “Not as bad as that nude beach a couple of months back though.”
“No, definitely not. I haven’t looked at deviled eggs the same way since then.”
<*> <*> <*>
Engine 51 and Squad 51 were nearly back to the station when the L.A. County dispatcher hailed them with another call. There was a ten-car pileup on the 405. The rain had reduced visibility and contributed to one car rear-ending a slower moving vehicle, which in turn caused a chain reaction with subsequent cars.
Extricating the victims was a nightmare, even with the additional help summoned. Finally, crews were able to get all the victims out, and Johnny and Roy found themselves en route to Rampart with two critically injured patients.
After delivering their patients to the appropriate treatment rooms, Johnny and Roy stopped at the Nurses’ Station to requisition some supplies to restock the squad.
Handing the list to the nurse behind the desk, Roy rubbed the back of his neck.
“I hope they make it.”
“Yeah. Let’s hope we got them out in time. Man, that was nuts,” as he spoke, Johnny looked up and down the hospital hallway, “I was gonna ask Dix about that girl Missy from this morning, but I don’t see her anywhere.”
“Yeah, I haven’t seen her either. Maybe we can give her a call later if we don’t end up back here on another call that is.”
The dark-haired man nodded as he fiddled with the antenna on the HT.
When Nurse Carol Cook returned a few minutes later, Roy scratched out his signature on the paperwork. Collecting the boxes holding their supplies, Johnny and Roy tiredly waved to Nurse Cook and left.
<*> <*> <*>
The smell of cooking food greeted the two paramedics when they returned to the station.
“Whatever it is, it smells good. I’m starving.” As if on cue, Gage’s stomach grumbled loudly. He followed his partner into the kitchen where Marco was setting the table.
“What smells so good?”
“Chicken and Dumpling Soup.” Captain Stanley spoke from the couch where he was reading the newspaper and scratching Henry behind the ears. “Graciously supplied by Roy’s wife. She dropped it off a little bit ago and picked up our wet uniforms to dry.”
Roy smiled. “You guys’ll love Joanne’s soup. Chicken and Dumpling is one of her best.”
“Mike’s throwing together some Grilled Cheese and Tomato sandwiches too,” added the captain, “they should be ready just about the time you both finish getting dried off and cleaned up.”
Needing no further encouragement, the two paramedics hurried off to do just that. It wasn’t long before they returned and took their seats at the table.
Chet placed the big soup kettle on a hot pad in the middle of the table, while Mike laid out a platter of golden brown sandwiches. Marco circled the table with the coffee pot filling cups as warranted. Johnny declined and helped himself to a glass of milk.
After taking a bite of his toasted cheese, Hank glanced at his paramedics.
“How was the rain on your trip back from Rampart?”
DeSoto shrugged. “I dunno. It seemed to be letting up a little bit, but there weren’t any breaks in the clouds.”
“Damn. It stopped for a few minutes on our way back from the accident scene. I was hoping that was a good sign.”
As if in defiance to his words, a huge crack of thunder boomed over the station. The lights flickered for a couple of seconds then steadied.
Dipping his spoon into the hot soup, Stanley muttered, “So much for that hope.”
The rest of the lunch passed in near silence as the crew hungrily devoured their food. When everyone was finished, Roy stood and started gathering the dishes. After placing his first armful on the counter, Roy twisted the faucet handles and squirted a generous amount of soap into the sink. As it filled with hot, lemony-scented water Roy looked over his shoulder at Johnny and questioned, “I’ll wash and you dry?”
Gage shrugged and answered, “Sure, why not.” He carried another load of dishes to the sink and dumped them in before grabbing a dry dish towel from the drawer.
Captain Stanley stood and swigged the last of his coffee from the cup. Carrying it to the sink he said, “Let me know when you guys are done. I have some drills for us to go over at the blackboard.”
“Sure thing, Cap,” Gage replied.
They were about halfway done with the dishes when the tones sounded.
“Station 51, Station 36, mudslide with persons trapped, Honeywell Circle near Juniper. Honeywell Circle near Juniper. Time out: 13:46.”
Johnny tossed Roy the dishtowel to dry his hands as he hurried toward the apparatus bay. His partner was mere seconds behind him.
“Station 51, 10-4, KMG-365.” Captain Stanley’s acknowledgement resonated throughout the bay. A few moments later, the emergency vehicles roared out of the station. The rain had ceased for the moment, but the clouds remained low and swollen in the sky signaling that it wouldn’t be long before the downpour began again.
The crew arrived on scene to find four houses half engulfed by thick mud and rocks. As they exited their vehicles, the engine and squad from Station 36 arrived. Stanley took charge and began issuing orders, directing the crew from 36s to begin searching the two houses to the right. Before he could continue, a man stumbled from the house directly ahead.
“Gage, DeSoto!” he approached the man along with the two paramedics.
“Sir,” Roy was the first to reach him, “Sir, are you okay?” He eyed the trickle of blood running from the man’s nose.
“My . . . my wife! You gotta help my wife!” The man spun around as if to head back into his ruined home.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” The captain grabbed him by his shoulders.
“No! My wife—she’s trapped!”
“Listen, my men will get her.”
The man moaned. “Ya gotta hurry.”
“Sir,” Johnny interjected, “do you know if your wife’s injured?”
“I-I-I don’t know.” Clearly distraught, the man was trembling. “But she’s . . . she’s pregnant and she’s in labor! I tried to get to her, but I fell . . . then I heard the sirens.”
“Where exactly is she in the house?” questioned Stanley.
“She’s in the bedroom. In the back. Marcy was getting her suitcase while I . . . I was getting the car out of the garage. Suddenly . . . my God, there was this roar . . .”
Hank nodded at his paramedics. “Go.”
The two men jogged toward the front door of the white Bungalow-style home.
Captain Stanley placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and asked him his name.
“Russell. Tom Russell.”
“Mr. Russell, why don’t you come over here by the engine.”
“But my wife?”
“Will be in good hands. My men know what they’re doing.”
He led Tom over to the engine and gestured for him to have a seat on the bumper.
<*> <*> <*>
DeSoto and Gage pushed through the front door and into the remarkably intact living room. As they proceeded down the hallway toward the back of the house, that drastically changed. The kitchen took the brunt of the mudslide and was obliterated. Moving on, they passed a bathroom and what looked like a den before finally reaching the master bedroom. Mud had crashed through the back wall and covered a good portion of the room. Furniture was upended everywhere, but there was no sign a person.
“Marcy? Marcy Russell?” Roy yelled.
The paramedics held their breaths and listened closely for any kind of response. The creak of ruined wood and glass was all they heard.
Trying one more time Johnny yelled, “Marcy? Can you hear us? We’re with the fire department.”
This time they hard a moan coming from the far left corner of the room. As one they lunged forward and began climbing over debris. After much slipping and sliding in the muck, they finally reached the mud-covered mound in the corner.
“Marcy?”
Another moan, slightly louder this time, was coming from beneath the mound. The two men carefully began to shift debris around. The mud made everything slick, and it took effort and care to reach the stricken woman. The final piece of debris was a mattress. When they moved it out of the way, they found March Russell on her side on the floor. Her eyes opened and she blinked a few times before saying, “Thank God, oh, thank God you found me!”
“Ma’am, are you hurt anywhere?” Roy queried with concern as he crouched down.
“My wrist hurts and my knee, I think. But I’m . . . I’m in labor,” her statement ended in a gasp as another contraction hit.
Glancing at his partner, Roy motioned with his hand and said, “It shouldn’t be too hard to get her out of here. I think a backboard . . .”
A rumble, turned roar, cut off whatever else he was going to say as more mud and debris gushed through the back wall. Instinctively, Roy threw himself over Marcy to protect her. Seconds later the roaring stopped and things grew still once more. Heaving a sigh of relief, DeSoto pushed away from his patient.
“Phew, that was close. Let’s get her outta here.”
When Johnny didn’t say anything, Roy looked over his shoulder to where his partner had been standing. While the gunk had stopped short of Roy and Marcy, Gage hadn’t been so lucky.
He was gone.
<*> <*> <*>
Dixie looked up from her paperwork to see 11-year-old Sam Jarrett standing a few feet away. He looked forlorn and shifted nervously from foot to foot. Getting up from her stool, she smiled and walked over to the boy.
“Well, hi there, handsome. What can I do for you?”
A hint of pink stained the boy’s cheeks, and he offered a tremulous smile of his own. It disappeared all too quickly.
“Is my sister dead?”
Grasping the boy’s shoulders, Dixie squeezed gently and replied, “No, Sam, she’s not. She’s very, very sick but she’s getting the absolute best care possible right over there in that room?”
“I don’t want her to die! I tried so hard to help!” Despite his efforts to hold them back, two big tears spilled over and trailed down his cheeks.
“Hey now, none of that,” the head nurse used her thumbs to wipe the tears, “you did help her and that’s what counts. Now it’s the doctor’s turn.”
“Is my mom coming yet?”
“We’ve had some trouble getting a hold of her. Do you know someone else we can call for the time being? Someone close by?”
The boy thought for a second before answering, “Well, there’s my Uncle Jack. We don’t see him much since my dad died.”
“So it’s Jack Jarrett? Do you know his number?”
“N-no. I don’t remember it.”
“Tell you what. Come with me. We’ll play detective and see if we can find him.”
<*> <*> <*>
“JOHNNY!”
Alarm laced Roy’s shout for his partner. He anxiously scanned the area where Johnny had been standing. After a tense few seconds, he saw movement under the mud. He watched as Gage lurched to his feet and stood unsteadily.
“You okay, partner?”
Spitting the filthy ooze from his mouth, Johnny mumbled, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
Roy had his doubts when he spied blood mixed in the sludge on Johnny’s face. It was coming from a good-sized gash in Johnny’s hairline.
“I think we better all get out of here before another wave of mud comes down,” Roy turned to Marcy Russell, “Ma’am, if we help you up, do you think you can walk out?”
“Yes, yes I think I can.”
DeSoto’s doubts about Johnny’s wellbeing were all but confirmed when the man grunted in pain as they helped Marcy to her feet. Supporting her between them, the trio managed to navigate their way first out of the room and then out of the house.
Once they cleared the door, the blond-haired paramedic called for assistance. Chet and Marco appeared immediately.
“Chet, help me with her. Marco, I think Johnny’s hurt. Help him over to the squad and then man the biophone, okay?”
As Chet took Johnny’s place on Marcy’s right side, Roy heard him grumbling to Marco that he was fine.
After getting his patient settled on the yellow blanket that had been spread on the ground by Captain Stanley, Roy glanced over and watched as Gage gingerly lowered himself to the ground.
Just what is your definition of fine, partner.
Marco made contact with Rampart. While he relayed the vitals and injury information on Marcy Russell, Roy squatted near Johnny.
“How ya doin’, Junior?”
Gage started to say “I’m fine” once more but stopped when saw the other man’s no-nonsense expression.
He sighed. “I’ve probably got a couple of bruised or cracked ribs and a broken thumb, I think.”
“Might want to throw a concussion on that list. You’re sportin’ quite a cut on that hard head of yours.”
Johnny grimaced. “Yeah, I’ve got the headache to go with it.”
DeSoto soon had both of his patients for transport. As the ambulance doors were being closed, a final rumble drowned out the siren and through the back window, DeSoto glimpsed the Russell’s house collapse under the mudslide’s final assault.
<*> <*> <*>
Johnny lay quietly in Treatment Room Three. The grueling day and his injuries had caught up with him, and exhaustion had set in. This brief solitude felt good.
The sound of the treatment room door opening caused him to jump. The abrupt movement made him gasp. He looked toward the door.
“Roy.”
“Johnny, how ya feelin’?”
“Been better. But it’s not too bad. How is Mrs. Russell?”
“Good news! She had a healthy baby girl about four minutes after we got her here. Mom’s got a sprained wrist and knee, but otherwise she’s fine.”
“Hey, that’s great!”
DeSoto smiled. “Guess what they named the baby.”
“Well, it’s a girl so I’m guessing it’s not Johnny or Roy.”
“They named her Raina.”
“You’re kidding! What’s her middle name—Lotta?”
“Raina Lotta?” Roy laughed, “good one.”
Johnny chuckled at his own joke and then groaned at the ache that shot through his sore ribs.
The HT in Roy’s hand squawked to life just as a resounding crack of thunder sounded that could even be heard in the confines of the treatment room.
Grimacing, Roy acknowledged the call and then said, “Well, I guess that’s my cue. At least you get to stay warm and dry tonight, partner.”
“All things considered, I’d rather be out there with you.”
With a wave, Roy walked toward the door. “Call me when they’re gonna spring ya.”
“Good deal. Take care out there, Pally.”
The door clicked shut. With a sigh, Johnny closed his eyes and shut out the storm he could hear brewing again outside.
<*> <*> The End <*> <*>
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Guest Dispatchers Stories by Vanessa
