Rapid Descent

Part 4

The warmth of the sun on his face was relaxing, and under different circumstances, Roy had a feeling he’d be enjoying the morning.  Right now, it was all he could do to lie quietly on the air mattress.   It seemed as if every inch of his body hurt, and there was no such thing as a comfortable position.

The first series of rapids had been brutal, and it had been all he could do to choke back his screams.  He still wasn’t sure if he’d been conscious the whole time. There were dark spots in his memory, where his view of the clouds and the sky disappeared into a black void.  The only part Roy remembered clearly was the sight of his partner’s worried frown.

Being trussed up the way he was, it was nothing but sheer willpower that kept Roy from screaming in frustration.  Only his trust in Johnny and the others, had given him the strength to keep quiet.  Still, he’d never felt more vulnerable than he had out on that river.  Roy knew that if he went over the side, he was finished.

Although he’d done his best to cover any signs of the pain he was experiencing, it was getting harder as the day went on.  For now, he was relieved to be off the river, if only for a little while. 

He could hear the others talking in the background, their voices muted as if they were at the end of a long tunnel.  At first Roy strained to catch a word or two, curious as to what they were doing or planning.  But the effort wasn’t worth the reward, and he returned to focusing his attention on holding back a painful groan.  

“How ya doin’?”

Johnny’s expression was guarded, but Roy recognized the anxious stare.  His friend was doing his best in a bad situation, and doing it while battling his own pain. 

Roy knew there was something wrong with Johnny.  You couldn’t be a guy’s partner for as long as he’d been Johnny’s, without recognizing the signs.  Problem was, he couldn’t figure out what could’ve happened to his friend.  For that matter, he wasn’t exactly sure what had put him on the injured list.

“’kay.  You?”

“Hey, quit trying to turn things around.  You’re the injured partner this time.  Just lay still, and let me be the boss for a change.”

Johnny’s gentle teasing was a normal part of his paramedic routine, and Roy was grateful for the familiarity.  It seemed a little easier to lay back and relax, and for a moment, the pain even seemed a little less.

“Don’t get used to it.”

A choked-back laugh was his answer, and Roy didn’t bother to open his eyes.  He could imagine Johnny’s grin, and he didn’t want to see the pain-filled eyes.  It was too frustrating.  He couldn’t help himself, let alone his friend.

“Now what?”

There was a short pause, and the answer didn’t come from his partner.

“We’re going to take a little walk, Roy.”

Forcing his eyes open, Roy found himself being watched closely by his captain. 

“Cap?”

“Yeah.  You doing okay?”

“Not for walkin’.”

“Well, how about a ride, then?  Your partner has designed a nifty little contraption.  If you’re lucky, you might even manage a nap during the trip.”

“Where we goin’?”

Cap smiled, and Roy felt a sense of relief.  Evidently he was asking the right questions.

“There’s a short portage here, just enough to get you around a series of rapids.  Doug thinks this’ll be the safest route for you, okay Pal?”

“’kay. . trust you.”

Cap cleared his throat, but didn’t answer.  Roy didn’t have any idea what expression the man wore.  His own gaze was focused on his partner.  He just hoped it was clearly understood, he meant that for both of them.

++++++++++

Hank didn’t know how to respond to Roy’s comment.  Gratifying as it was, he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge the heaviness that simple comment had brought to his heart.  Standing up, he looked around for Doug, anxious to get the group moving again.  That must’ve been the guide’s intent also, as he was already slipping on a life jacket.

“Okay, let’s get Roy settled on this contraption.”

The others responded instantly to Hank’s call, and within minutes, they’d lifted Roy onto the makeshift stretcher.  Johnny took another roll of Ace bandage from the first aid kit, and quickly cut it into several strips.  Then he deftly used the thin fabric to tie Roy’s legs loosely to the paddles.  No one uttered a word, though it looked several times as if Johnny were ready to explain, but his partner kept his eyes closed, and the moment passed. 

Whether Roy was even aware of the procedure, Hank wasn’t sure.  He was just grateful that the man didn’t put up a fuss.  It would be hard enough for them to manhandle this thing up the rocky trail, without Roy sliding off of it.  As hard as it was to see him tethered, it was the only safe way. 

With Roy settled on Johnny’s travois, things started to happen fast.  It had been decided earlier, that Mike and Chet would accompany Doug in the raft, and the two of them were already pulling on their life vests.  With a slight look of relief, Marco bent to lift one end of the stretcher, while Hank stooped to grab the other.  Surprisingly, his hands intercepted another’s, and he froze.

“I’ve got it, John.”

“I’m alright, Cap, I can take him.”

The captain’s gaze never faltered as he slowly stared Johnny down.  He never spoke, didn’t argue.  He simply conveyed with his eyes what they all knew.  John was in no shape to travel this rocky path, let alone carry his partner. 

Hank had no desire to pull rank, but he would.  His relieved sigh was audible when he realized he wouldn’t have to.  Several seconds had passed before Johnny released his hold, and backed away.  But his gaze dropped to the earth for only a moment before he quickly turned to pick up several small bags that Doug had laid nearby.  Hank suspected the bags held a water jug and some first aid supplies, but he didn’t bother to ask.  Instead, he gripped the two paddles on his end, before nodding at Marco. 

With a low grunt, the two raised the stretcher between them and slowly moved forward.  Johnny hurried out in front of them, pushing himself to stay ahead.  If he couldn’t carry his partner, it was clear that he would find another way to help. 

From the corner of his eye, Hank could see the raft was already moving out into the current, but he didn’t watch as it headed down river.  He needed to keep his eyes on the trail.   The ground was uneven, and the angle growing steeper.  Johnny was staying ahead, tossing or kicking some of the larger rocks out of the way.  Occasionally, he’d holler back, advising them of a specific area to be careful of.

Every step seemed like torture to Hank.  Not because the load was too heavy, or the burden too great.  He was a fireman, after all, and this kind of rescue was standard procedure.  The torture came from within. 

Was this too rough on Roy?  Would the makeshift stretcher hold up?   Was Johnny making his injury worse?   Would they make it in time?

So far, Roy had been very still during the trek, and Hank assumed he was unaware of what was happening.  A sudden tightening of his hand on the rope sling corrected that assumption.  The injured man was awake, and very aware of where he was. 

“Hang on, Roy.  You’re doing fine.”

There was no answer, but it seemed as if the hand relaxed just a little.

They continued to climb, the path barely defined in some places.  At times, the trail was so narrow that a foot to the left would’ve put them over the side and into the river below.   Hank wouldn’t allow himself to look in that direction.  Better not to imagine the worst.  

And then, Johnny was calling out to them.

 “Just a few more feet, guys, there’s a great place to rest!”

John was already seated when they rounded a corner at the top of the trail.  The view was excellent.  The path had opened onto the top of a small knoll that overlooked the river, but Hank wasn’t interested in the scenery.  As they rested, his eyes were discreetly examining the men in his charge. 

Marco was fine, a little winded but in good shape.  He was sipping, slowly, from a small water jug that Johnny handed him.  On the travois, Roy rested quietly, his gaze occasionally moving slowly back and forth between his friends.  It was Johnny that held Cap’s attention.   His position was awkward at best, half sitting, half slumped over on the hard earth.  His breathing was uneven, and his complexion was flushed.  Hank moved to sit by him, but John was already struggling to his feet.  With a faint grin, he tried again to persuade his captain.

“We’ve got a ways to go, Cap.  How about I take a turn?”

Hank figured the guy deserved a medal for trying, but he wasn’t about to admit it.  In fact, he wasn’t even going to bother answering the twit.

“Let’s go.”

The path stayed level for a short distance, winding its way around rocks and boulders.   Then, suddenly, it dipped down towards the canyon’s floor again.  There had been no sign of the raft since they parted company almost an hour before, so it was something of a surprise when they heard Chet’s shout.  Mere seconds passed before Mike and Chet came into view.   They were hurrying uphill to meet the group, quickly taking over the travois for the last part of the journey. 

There was a distinct change in conversation when they walked down the trail’s final grade.   The relief was evident, and their chatter increased the closer they got to the river.  Of course, Chet was the loudest.

“So, Gage, this thing really worked, huh?”

“Worked great.”

“Guess those red men really did know their stuff, didn’t they?  Good thing you paid attention during those westerns, though it seems to me that you would’ve learned some of that stuff first hand.”

“Yeah, Chet, you’d think.”

“Got any other tricks up your sleeve?  Or should I say buckskins?  Gage, I’ll bet there’s a whole bunch of this kinda stuff you know about.  Maybe you should teach a class or something.  You know, like a mini Boy Scout class.”

“Chet.”

“No, seriously, they could give you a special title.  I bet the kids would love it.”

“Uh, huh.  And what do you get out of all this?”

“Me?  Why, you know I wouldn’t think of getting involved in one of your schemes.  I was just trying to help you out, that’s all.”

Hank would’ve thumped the fireman personally, if he could’ve reached him.  The last thing John needed right now, was a personal onslaught from the Phantom.  The poor guy was barely standing as it was.  Still, as Hank worked to release Roy from the travois, and unwind the rope from the paddles, he noticed Kelly’s verbal abuse was bringing about a strange result.  John was working over his partner, but his answers were directed at Chet.  There was no real malice, but the familiar bickering of two friendly rivals. 

Six months of latrine duty that Cap had been scheduling for Kelly slowly slipped away as he recognized, and appreciated, what the stocky fireman had just accomplished.  Johnny was grinning at Roy, who managed a return smile.

The group didn’t bother to discuss their next move.  They simply picked Roy up and started for the raft.  Overhead, the sky was already changing in color.  Though it was still some time before they’d reach their destination, and longer still, until Barry would meet them, it was obvious that they needed to make time.  There were miles to travel, and rapids to get through before the safe completion of their trip.

Doug was waiting at the river’s edge, and he helped Johnny into the raft first.  Next in was Mike who balanced on the side as he helped guide Roy over the edge and into the raft. 

Like precision clockwork, the rest of the men crawled into their places and picked up their paddles.  With a few quick commands, Doug directed them back into the center of the river, and towards the takeout.  Hank was grateful that their guide was confident in his abilities.  Now, if Mother Nature would just cooperate a little, maybe they’d all make it home safely after all.

Over the objections of the crew of 51, Doug had insisted that they take a short break for lunch. Because of the morning’s portage, there was no pressing need for the men to get out to stretch, so they remained in the raft while Doug passed around the thick, peanut butter sandwiches he had made that morning.  Apples, oranges, cookies, and Tang finished off the meal.  Not very gourmet, but then, it was full of the kind of energy they would need to get them through to the other end.  Even Roy managed to eat a few bites of sandwich and a few slices of orange.  While they ate, they talked about the afternoon.

“It’s 12:30,” Doug pointed out.  “We’re making pretty good time.  At this pace, we’ll be at the take out by 2:00.  I told Barry to meet us at 3:00, but he’ll be there by 2:30 if not before then.   In just about an hour, we’re going to hit the last big rapid of the trip.  It’s a class IV, and there is simply no way to portage it because of the canyon walls.  The good news is that our take out is only about a mile beyond the end of the rapid.  And it isn’t as tough as some that we’ve run.  If everyone stays focused, and we get a little bit of luck, we’ll be okay.”

++++++++++++++++

Johnny took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, trying to focus on the moment.  What if…  NO!  He could not allow himself to go there.  There were far too many possibilities that could play out before the afternoon was over.  Playing them out in his mind would do no one any good. 

Johnny looked at his partner.  “Okay, Pally.  One last run and then we’re off this river.  You ready?” 

Roy forced a slight smile onto his face.  “You know – I’ve been thinking – maybe it would be better to run an easier river.” 

Johnny smiled at the attempt at levity.  “Did you hear that guys?  Roy’s decided that he doesn’t want to run this river.” 

“No problem, Roy,” Chet said.  “We’ll just turn around and go back.”

“Naw, Chet,” Marco jumped in, “that’s too much work.  Think maybe we could get Captain Kirk to beam us out of here?” 

Don’t I wish! Johnny forced himself to tear his eyes away from the river up ahead.  “Okay, Roy.  One last time.  Hang on, ‘cause here we go.”

Roy clenched his jaw and tried to brace himself.  He wondered what the guys would say in other circumstances, to see Johnny almost laying on top of him, trying to secure him to the raft.  Before he could ponder that, the raft leapt from the water and slammed back down, setting every nerve in his body on fire.  They were in the rapid.

Ice cold water washed over him, as wave after wave crashed over the raft.  It stole his breath away, leaving only silent screams of pain as his body bounced between the raft and the brace created by Johnny’s arms.  Opening his eyes, he found himself looking directly into the dark eyes of his keeper.  No words were spoken, but he found the strength and comfort he needed.  He gave Johnny a slight nod of acknowledgement before closing his eyes again. 

By the time it was over, Roy felt like he had been at the receiving end of a battering ram.  He hurt everywhere.  He could barely breath.  He was wet and cold.  But he was alive and almost to shore.  For the first time that day he allowed himself to believe they were going to make it.  

++++++++++++++++++

As the raft entered calmer waters, Johnny felt his heartbeat begin to calm down as well.  They had made it through the last big hurdle. Another mile, and they would be off the river for good.  And just in time.  The first heavy drops of rain were beginning to fall, as the sky grew darker.  He knew he wouldn't really breathe easy until they'd beached the raft, getting Roy back on solid ground again. 

Johnny looked at Roy.  Despite the pain etched on his face, even he wore a look of relief.  "We're almost there," he said as he grabbed onto Roy's life vest and helped him straighten up a bit.

"Yeah.  But the worst is yet to come," was his partner's answer.

Roy must have seen Johnny's look of surprise, because he actually laughed.  "Still have to face Joanne." 

Johnny cringed.  "Oh yeah.  I almost forgot about that."

Johnny couldn’t help but play the scene out in his mind.  Joanne’s “Oh my God, Roy!  What did you do?” followed by the inevitable stream of tears.  But before Johnny could share his thoughts with Roy, the voice in his head became urgent in its tone.  It was no longer thoughts of Joanne.  It was Doug.  And something was wrong.

The guide's excited "hang on" was followed by shouted instructions, but Johnny couldn't focus on them. Instead he suddenly found himself clutching Roy's vest in an effort to hold his friend steady. The raft seemed almost out of control as it spun towards the left bank, but he knew instinctively, that Doug had things under control.   Right now, all he could do was try to keep Roy safe in the bouncing raft.

The jolt was sudden and unexpected.  Before he could process what was happening, Johnny found himself air born.  By the time he realized he was no longer in the raft, he was in the water.  His hands clung tightly to the straps of Roy's vest and he kept his friend in his line of vision and in his control as they plunged beneath the surface.  But the sudden impact of his injured hip against an unyielding surface caused blinding pain to shoot through his body, releasing his hold.  Grabbing frantically for his friend, Johnny thought for a moment that he had Roy in his grasp.  But his hands were empty. 

Choking and gagging, Johnny felt himself plunged back below the surface.  He thought he heard someone scream his name, but he couldn't focus on the muffled sound.  He had to find Roy!

Roy’s mind could barely process what was happening.  Despite the rain and the storm that had been rapidly approaching, he had actually finally relaxed.  Doug’s announcement that they were through the last rapid and less than a mile from the take out had allowed him to believe, for the first time in over 24 hours, that maybe things were going to be okay. 

But that was a few minutes ago and the time between then and now might just span a lifetime,  his lifetime – or even Johnny’s.   Now, in these last few minutes of the trip, his worst nightmares, Johnny’s worst fears, and Joanne’s worst premonitions were all coming true.  He was back in the water, unable to help himself, rapidly losing the ability to even focus.  He would not survive this time.  As for Johnny, he had entered the water with him, refusing to give up the grasp on his life jacket.  But something had forced him to lose hold.  That something, could not be good.

Hank stared at the river, anxiously willing his paramedics to resurface.  When they did, it was only seconds before the current pulled them under again.   He knew that neither man had the strength to fight the water for long, but Roy was the most vulnerable.  With his arm strapped against his chest, there was no hope that he'd be able to pull himself out.  Roy was totally dependent on his friends.  With that thought in mind, Hank pushed himself up on the side of the raft.  Poised to go overboard, he stopped as he heard Doug's shouts.  The guide was maneuvering the raft closer to the fallen tree, and Mike was already grabbing hold of the roots in an effort to steady the craft.  It was obvious that Doug had a plan in mind, Hank just wasn't sure they had time to put it into action.  The icy cold water wouldn't give them any second chances; they had to get Roy and Johnny out, now.

Johnny kicked against the current, fighting to pull himself above the surface. A feeling of panic overwhelmed him as he realized he was struggling not only against the river, but against the pain that shot up the length of his leg and settled in his hip. There was no time to sort out the cause of this new torture.   “Roy!”   If above water, his internal shout would've been a frantic scream. As it was, Johnny's throat constricted with the effort, and he choked on a mouthful of water.  It took a tremendous effort, but Johnny was relentless. Ignoring the pain, and fighting to keep from swallowing any more of the river, he kicked his feet while the life vest pulled him towards the surface. Within seconds, he was gasping for air as his face emerged from the water.

Johnny turned immediately, his eyes searching for any sign of his partner. But he found none. Shouted curses from the raft didn't help direct him, yet their tone assured him that Roy was still missing. His strength played out, Johnny pulled from his last reserves as he tried to swim against the current. Roy was nearby, had to be. But where? And could he get to him in time?

Doug felt his heart pumping wildly in his chest as he took in all that was happening.  There were no large rocks in this part of the river.  The culprit was a downed tree that was fully submerged in the high water.  Because of the shadows, he hadn’t seen the tree until they were already on top of the branches.  A large limb had caused the bump that had sent the injured men flying from the raft directly into the sunken trunk. 

Doug watched Johnny grimace as he hit the trunk, watched as the man lost his grip on Roy, watched as both men disappeared beneath the waves.  The guide kept his eyes trained on the tree as he forced himself to let instinct take over.  The situation was bad, but it could get so much worse.  He couldn’t let the raft become part of the problem, but that was a real risk.  The men were between the tree and the raft, with the current pushing both the men and the raft into the tree.  If Doug did nothing, the raft would pound the men up against the tree. 

With quick and powerful strokes, he managed to maneuver the raft to the bank a few feet to their left.  “Mike,” he yelled to the man closest to the shore, “grab hold of the branches.  Keep the raft AWAY from the downed tree.  I’m going in.”

Knowing that the raft was in good hands and no longer posed a risk to the men in the water, Doug paused only long enough to make sure his knife was attached to his vest.  With a quick prayer, he grabbed the chicken line and entered the water.

Roy’s chest burned, screamed for him to breathe, but he fought the urge, struggling to somehow get to the surface.  But which way was up?  Throwing his head back, he saw a brighter light.  In a final effort, he focused on his legs and forced them to obey his brain.  With a powerful scissor kick, he forced himself to the surface - and right into the branches of the downed tree.      

Marco was leaning over the side of the raft, scouring the river for any sign of Roy.  If he had been a few feet closer to the tree, Roy would have hit him when he popped to the surface.  Marco reached out to grab the man, but the current grabbed Roy first, throwing him into the branches of the tree.  Marco saw Roy’s eyes open wide then close as his face tightened into a grimace.   Calling to Doug, he didn’t wait for the guide to appear.  The water was turning red, and Roy was slipping back under.  He took a breath, and jumped.  

Marco was in the water.  He could taste the bile in his mouth as a wave slammed into his face, stealing his breath with its ice-cold force.  He pushed down the panic as he resurfaced and looked around.  Roy was to his left, the safety of the raft to his right.  Filling his lungs with air, he turned away from the raft and reached for his crewmate.

Mindful of avoiding the same fate as the man he was trying to save, Marco was careful as he maneuvered himself next to Roy.  He grabbed onto Roy’s vest and pulled.  Roy’s head resurfaced and Marco saw him draw a breath.  Pulling harder, Marco tried to draw him back to the raft.  But pulling Roy away from the tree only pushed his upper body under water.  His foot was trapped.

Holding onto the collar of Roy’s vest, Marco considered his next move.  The water was red with blood.  It was Roy’s blood, that was obvious, but Marco had no way of knowing what was bleeding.  If it was his leg and he pulled again…  But if they didn’t get him out of the water, an injured leg would be irrelevant.  

Roy’s head fell forward, dropping his face into the water despite Marco’s hold on the vest.  He was unconscious.  Before Marco could respond, another hand grabbed hold of Roy’s hair and pulled his face up.  It was Doug.  With another man there to hold him up, Marco took only the time to say, “He’s trapped,” before deliberately pushing himself beneath the surface.

For all of his fears of going under and never coming up, Marco had never imagined it would be difficult to go underwater with the life vest on, but true to Doug’s description, the vest tried to draw him back to the surface.  As hard as he tried, he couldn’t get himself down to Roy’s feet.  Without a thought to the possible consequences, he unbuckled the straps, unzipped the jacket and wiggled out of it, letting it float away.  Before anyone could comment, he was back under the water. 

This time Marco had no difficulty reaching Roy’s foot.  It was ensnared between branches.  Fighting against the current that was trying to trap him against the tree as well, Marco grabbed Roy’s leg and the ankle and pulled.  But the hold was too tight.  He would have to snap some of the branches.  But first he needed more air. 

Marco broke through the surface and allowed himself a few deep breaths before speaking to Doug, who was fighting to keep Roy’s head above water. 

“His foot is stuck tight.”

“You hold him up,” Doug said.  He took the knife from his vest.  “I’ll cut him free.”

“No,” was Marco’s reply.  “Give me the knife.  I’ll get him.”

“Marco…” Doug began, but Marco didn’t let him finish. 

“Just give me the knife.”

Doug complied.  With knife in hand, Marco filled his lungs with air and again dove toward the bottom of the river.  Reaching for the branches closest to Roy’s ankle, Marco began to saw.  He struggled to keep hold of the knife as the cold began to take effect, weakening his grip.  One branch gone.  He pulled.  The foot moved, but not enough.  Marco needed more air.  He returned to the surface. 

This time Marco hyperventilated himself, breathing deeply repeatedly, hoping to buy himself a few more precious seconds underwater.  As he pulled in the air he realized Doug was speaking to him.

“Marco, hold him.  I’ll go down.” 

Marco shook his head.  They didn’t have time to do the switch.  “I’ve almost got it,” he said through chattering teeth.  “If I don’t get it this time…”  He didn’t finish the thought, but took one last deep breath and dove. 

This time he didn’t need to figure out where to cut.  He knew exactly what needed to be done.  Careful not to cut Roy, he moved in close to his friend’s ankle and twisted the knife to snap the last of the branches.  Putting the knife in his mouth, Marco grabbed hold of Roy’s ankle with both hands and twisted and pulled.  The foot moved.  Roy was free.  As Marco returned to the surface, Doug was already pulling Roy up toward the raft. 

Once breathing again, Marco let himself relax.  Without the life vest, he found himself quickly sinking.  He knew he should kick, but he was suddenly having trouble making his body obey his commands.  As he tried to kick, hands grabbed his arms, and he felt himself being pulled into the raft.  For a brief moment he let himself believe it was all going to be okay.  A loud crash of thunder put an end to that illusion.

Hank didn't have time to be relieved when he saw Johnny surface.  Roy was still underwater.  He knew that Mike was holding them against the bank, but it was only a matter of time before the river's current pulled the raft further downstream.   Although Hank was fully prepared to go in the water, it was obvious that his help was needed inside the raft.  With Marco and Doug both in the river, steady hands would be needed to pull them back in.   The problem was, while they were both focused on finding Roy, Johnny was losing his fight to stay afloat. 

Suddenly remembering the sack Doug kept tucked under his seat, Cap lunged for the safety line even as he called out directions.

"Johnny!  John!  Look this way. I'm throwing you a rope!"

Hank was already tossing the bag towards his youngest charge, watching intently as the line uncoiled smoothly from the opening.  A tired hand reached out of the water to grip the means that would take him to safety.  Yet, even as Johnny's hand closed over the rope, Hank sensed his hesitation.

"Marco & Doug have Roy, just hang on, Johnny.  We need you back in the raft.  Hold on, John!"

Hand over hand as he pulled Johnny toward the raft, Hank prayed that he hadn't lied.  He couldn't break his concentration to check on Marco's progress. Right now, he had to focus on getting his Johnny safely into the raft.  Then he could turn his attention to the other missing man.  Dear God, just please let them find him in time.

Mike's sudden shout was the answer to his prayer.

"They've got him!  Chet, I'll hang on, you get in position up here."

Hank sensed that Chet had joined him at the raft's side, but he didn't bother to glance over.  His eyes were glued, instead, on Johnny.  Two more pulls on the rope, and the paramedic was within reach.   In something of a deja-vu experience, Hank dropped the rope and grabbed hold of Johnny's life vest.  No instructions were needed to garner Chet's assistance.  The man was already reaching out to help his friend. 

Up and over the side in less than a second, Johnny was back safely inside the craft.  For a moment, there was no sound amongst them, save for the heavy breathing of the weary swimmer.  Then Chet was scrambling back to the side to help in the next rescue.  Hank crouched over Johnny a moment longer, just to be sure.

"You alright, John?"

A sputtering cough was his first answer, followed by a faint nod.  He didn't allow himself to recall the discussion he and Mike had held around the morning fire.  It was a given that Johnny would need to be checked out thoroughly when this ordeal was over.  But first, there was another member of their group that needed him. 

Hank patted Johnny's knee reassuringly with his right hand, while releasing his hold on the life vest with his left.  Another prayer found its way into his thoughts as the captain joined Chet at the raft's side.  Dear God, please let this nightmare be over.  Please!

From the bottom of the raft, Johnny watched his co-workers lean out over the river.  He struggled to pull himself up alongside them, but didn't have the strength.   His chest heaved with the effort to breathe without coughing, and he fought back the desire to be sick.  More than anything, he wanted to be able to help Roy.  But his body simply wouldn't comply.  With a groan of utter despair, Johnny gave in, lying back against one of the thwarts.  Tipping his head back in an attempt to take a deep breath, he found himself staring into an angry sky.  The clouds that had been gathering strength were now part of a full-fledged storm.  Lightning streaked across the sky above them, and a low rumble followed almost immediately.  The rain still fell as slow, heavy drops, but Johnny knew that would soon change. 

A new sense of urgency came over him.  He'd heard Mike calling out to Chet, knew that Roy would soon be pulled back in the raft.  But in what shape?  And what else would they have to endure to finish this journey from hell, and finally get off this river? 

"Chet, move down just a little.  Get on the other side of Doug.  I'll get Roy.  Mike, do you see Marco anywhere?"

Cap's voice was like a sudden charge of electricity to Johnny's system.  Once again he pushed himself up, if only to a sitting position.  At least from where he was, he could see Doug swimming towards the raft, with Roy held tightly in the crook of his left arm. 

Chet had followed Cap's instructions and was reaching out towards Doug, while Cap grabbed for Roy.  Where's Marco?   Scooting back against the other side of the raft, Johnny continued to scan the water's surface as Cap caught hold of Roy's jacket. 

Not until his partner was pulled over the side did it finally register in Johnny's tired brain.  Roy was unconscious.  Paramedic training kicked in, and Johnny was suddenly on his knees, helping to pull his best friend to safety.

That's when Mike moved.  Letting go of the tree, the engineer lurched past the group and almost over the side.  When Johnny could see past his captain, he realized that the final missing member had now been accounted for.  Coughing and spitting out river water, Marco was none-the-less looking very happy to be back in the raft.  And the raft was now moving, unguided, down river.

The flurry of activity inside the raft was unprecedented.  Doug scrambled past the men to take his place in back.  Grabbing his paddle, he did his best to regain control, but they were still perilously close to the tree.  Mike and Chet took up their paddles and dipped them deep in the river.  Cap quickly followed suit.  Working together, they managed, just barely, to navigate around the tree.

In the middle of the raft, Johnny took scant notice of what the others were doing.  His fingers circling Roy's wrist, he counted the faint pulse, while he visually studied his friend.  Marco was putting pressure on Roy's arm, but the bleeding had not slowed.  Things had been bad enough.  Now they were critical.

Above them, another flash illuminated the sky, and Johnny dropped his head to his chest.  Out on a river, no equipment, no supplies, and a storm breaking overhead.  What could he do?   All the training in the world wasn't going to help Roy.  They had to get off this river.

+++++++++++++

"Hard left!  All together!  That's right, keep it straight, men."

Hank followed Doug's instructions along with the rest of his crew, at least those that had a paddle in hand.  In the bottom of the raft, Johnny was perched over his partner, his right hand clasping Roy's wrist.  To their right, Marco was balanced against the side, as he held Roy's other arm tightly.  Even with that pressure, the blood was flowing freely, red rivulets streaming between each of Marco's fingers.

The prayers that Hank had intoned earlier were nothing compared to what he was thinking now.   This whole adventure had turned into a nightmare, their luck turning from bad to worse.   His eyes scanning across the raft, Hank took mental note of each man.

Mike was in the front with Chet, both of them working silently to keep the raft moving forward.  Without looking behind them, they seemed to know that the injured man was not doing well.  To their credit, they kept a steady pace, paddles dipping deep beneath the river's surface.  At the back of the raft, Doug was keeping up a constant litany of directions.  Only the timbre of his voice belayed the man's tension. 

“Johnny!  What’s going on?  Come on, man!”

Johnny held Roy's wrist in his grasp, the pulse still weak, but steady.  Outside noises were slowly filtering into Johnny's consciousness, and he realized they were moving downstream again.  Even with the storm breaking overhead, they were headed towards the takeout. 

"Johnny?"

The voice sounded distant, and Johnny shook his head a bit.   What's wrong with me?   Someone was waiting for him, but why?  There was nothing else to be done.  Nothing to do but hold Roy in his arms until someone else could help him.

Johnny stared down at his partner, before looking up toward the voice.  Who was it that sounded so insistent? 

“What’s going on?  Come on, man!”

"Marco?"

"John, what can we do?  We have to do something, now!"

Marco's voice was raised, but the wind whipped the sound away.  Through the storm, Johnny could see the other man's disheveled appearance, the missing life vest.  He wondered, briefly, if Marco had been injured.  He didn't wonder for long.  Marco's attention was clearly focused on Roy.

“Johnny, we have to do something.  NOW!”

What the hell is wrong with me?  He looked at his shaking hand.  It was covered with blood. 

Roy’s blood. 

“NO!”  He looked at Marco and back at the man lying before him.  Damn it, Roy, you're not doing this to me.  For the second time in as many days, he forced the fog away and shoved himself into the moment.

"No way, partner, you're not leaving me to tell Joanne you didn't keep your promise.  Wake up, damn it, wake up!"

Johnny was back.  No trace of despair or confusion was evident.  Not that anyone had time to notice.  Completely professional, his hands were checking his partner while he made a mental list of Roy's injuries.  

"Marco!  We have to get this bleeding stopped!"

The words were a mere formality.  They both knew what was needed.  But what could they use?   It wasn't like they could pull something from the trauma box, or even use their own belts to form a tourniquet. 

"Damn it, we've got to have something now!"

This time it was Johnny's words that were carried away with a gust of wind, but Marco's hand was already in front of him.  Clutched in his palm was a nylon strap.  Johnny had no idea where he'd found it, and couldn't have asked even if there was time. 

"Yes!"

Grabbing the strap, he wrapped it above the gash in Roy’s arm.  A quick loop for a knot pulled tight.  It wasn’t working.  It had to work.  But it wasn’t.  The bleeding wasn’t slowing.

"Come on, Roy, damn it!   Work with me, here!"

Thunder crashed overhead.  Wind-driven rain pelted them, making visibility almost nil.  Lightning flashed, and the air split with the crack of thunder directly above them.  The storm was too close.  Johnny’s heart pounded in his chest, vibrating in his ears.  Where only moments before he'd almost given up, now he was unwilling to admit defeat. 

"Roy!  I mean it, man.  Fight!  You gotta fight!   Joanne and the kids.  Don't forget your promise to Joanne!"

He reached for the strap and yanked it hard. Lightning pierced the sky, striking a tree only 100 yards behind them.  In the momentary bright light, he could see that Roy’s face was as gray as the sky above them.  “Damn it, Roy!  You are NOT going to quit now!”  He tied off the make shift tourniquet.

And the blood stopped.  "It's working.  By God, it's working, Marco.   Way to go, Pally!  Now, keep it up.  Keep fighting!"

Johnny knew that his words weren't being heard, or understood.  It didn't matter.  He was fighting for his friend, and he wasn't going to quit.  “Just get us off this river, Cap.”  Johnny groaned.  “Hurry and get us off this damn river.”

Johnny checked again, to reassure himself.  Yes, the bleeding had stopped.  Roy was unconscious.   He was so still.  Not moving at all.  No pained breaths.  Not a twitch of a finger or facial muscle.  Not even the slight rise and fall of his chest was visible.  “Damn!”

Hank watched as Johnny and Marco stopped Roy’s arm from bleeding.  His relief was short lived though as he heard Johnny swear and saw him desperately grab for his partner's neck, searching for a pulse.  Hank knew that he wasn't the only one holding his breath.  The waiting seemed endless.  Come on, Roy!  Johnny nodded slowly.  Marco turned towards Hank, his eyes shining with relief.

Hank couldn't quite pull up that emotion yet. Although Roy was, by far, the most seriously injured, they all needed to get off the river, and fast. Marco and Doug were both soaked, and though they hadn't been in the water long, they were still at risk for mild hypothermia. And there was Johnny. Having escaped the clutches of hypothermia yesterday, it wouldn't do him any good to stay cold and wet today. Watching as he hunched over his partner, Hank could see that the young man was favoring his side again.

There weren't many options for the group at this point. The rain was coming down in torrents, and the occasional flash of lightening had grown into a continuous light show above them. The booming thunder was echoing off the canyon walls, making it almost impossible to hear Doug's commands.

Then suddenly, the landscape changed. It wasn't gradual, but almost instantaneous. Even through the gray shroud of the storm, Hank could see that the narrow gorge had fallen away until the sides of the river were merely shallow beaches. From there, the ground tapered off gracefully toward a chain of small hills that ran parallel to the river. In any other situation, it would've been a remarkable sight. It didn't promote that sensation today. Yet Hank found it conveyed something even better. He was starting to find that feeling of relief he'd been longing for.

"How much farther, Doug?" Hank shouted above the storm.

"Less than five minutes!"

He bit back the surge of excitement that welled up within him. They weren't there yet. Close. Almost. But almost wasn't there.

 

Hank could feel the strength of the river as he plunged his paddle into its dark depths. The scenic view of the river may have changed, but the mighty current hadn't. He worked diligently, the paddle in his hand following the exact movements of Mike's paddle, the two working in perfect unison.

Those five minutes seemed like hours, and Hank wondered if he'd ever forget the feeling of raw tension aboard that raft. The human silence was a distinct contrast to nature's fury. Sure, the tempest all around them was enough to silence any man, but Hank knew that wasn't what kept his men quiet. They were unwilling to speak up; afraid to voice the fear they all felt, that by the time they got to shore, it would be too late.

"Hard right!" Doug's voice screamed out over the raucous wind.

The men responded immediately, and the raft edged towards shore. And then it changed. The silence on the raft erupted into a steady exchange.

"Chet, watch that branch to your left."

"Got it!"

"Mike, be ready to get out."

"Right, Doug."

"Hank, you set to help with Roy?"

"Yes!"
 

++++++++++ 

The best laid plans . . .   Barry sat in the bus at the bank of the river.  He had planned to get to the take-out early, pull out a blanket, and catch a few rays while reading a book and waiting for Doug and the guys.  Now he sat in the driver’s seat and stared at the rain and lightning, wishing he had stayed home just a little longer. 

The fact that he hadn’t heard from Doug since the first day didn’t really concern him.  Somehow that was the one part of this business that they just couldn’t seem to get right.  Signals were real hit or miss in the canyons, and communication was a long shot. 

Barry squirmed in his seat.  It was only 1:30.  He wasn’t expecting the men for another hour and a half.  He really wished he had skipped the extra large soda at lunch.  The thought of getting out of the bus now, getting soaked, then waiting an hour and a half wasn’t appealing.  But the building urgency convinced him he had no choice.  Pulling up the hood of his rain jacket, he jumped out of the bus and made a dash for the bushes. 

If Barry hadn’t gotten out of the bus, he never would have heard the shouts from the river.  He couldn’t make out the words, but there was no doubt that his crew was approaching.  Barry smiled, knowing that with this weather he would be quite the hero for having gotten there early. 

But as he listened to the shouts, he began to get the uneasy feeling that something was wrong.  The voices sounded panicked, and they carried a sense of urgency.  Barry knew that the raft had one more bend to round before they would see the take-out.  Jumping back into the bus, he brought it close to the river’s edge and turned on the high beams.  He leaned on his horn.  At least they would know he was there.  Bracing himself against the weather, he went down to the river’s edge to wait.  He hoped he was wrong. 

He wasn’t.  He knew that as soon as he saw the raft, even with the poor visibility.  Not all the men were paddling.  Two were kneeling in the center of the raft.  And there were only six men.  Barry hoped that the two men in the center of the raft were blocking the view of another man on the floor of the raft.  If not . . .

It didn’t take Barry long to get his answers.  As the raft drew closer, he could see the seventh man.  But his relief didn’t have even enough time to take hold before he was able to make out the words being spoken.  Grabbing for the raft as soon as it was within reach, he helped haul it on shore.  Not taking the time to ask what happened, Barry provided a solid brace for the men to grab onto as they exited the raft.     

“Barry, do you have towels and dry jogging suits?” Doug asked, as he grabbed the chicken lines and yanked the raft up onto dry ground. 

“In the back of the bus.” 

Doug nodded, then yelled out to the others, “We leave everything here.  We’ll change on the road.  Put Roy and Johnny near the back.  The heat’s the strongest there.  Barry, blast the heat then floor it for County Health Center.”

Barry helped lift the injured man onto the bus through the emergency exit in the back, then headed to the front of the bus.  He turned when Johnny called out after him. 

“How long?” the man asked, his voice shaking.

“Twenty minutes in this weather.” 

“Then pretend it’s not this weather.  We don’t have twenty minutes,” was Johnny’s reply.

++++++++++++

Johnny fought to stay focused as he tried to shift gears.  Twenty minutes.  That’s nineteen minutes too long.  He’ll lose his arm, if not his life.  NO!  That was an unacceptable outcome. 

“Raise his legs.  Get them above his chest.”  Johnny began barking out orders, determined not to lose any part of this battle.  “Mike, grab his arm.  Put pressure on the wound.  I’m going to loosen the tourniquet and see if we can get some blood flow through the secondary vessels.” 

Holding his breath, Johnny slowly loosened the restricting band.  This time, Mike’s pressure hold did the trick.  Finally, something is going right.  He reached for Roy’s throat to check his pulse.  Looking up, he found himself staring into the distraught face of his Captain.  He answered the man’s unspoken question.

“I don’t know, Cap.  I just don’t know.  But if we can keep the blood flow tempered without the tourniquet, he stands a chance of keeping the arm.” 

“Will he be able to use it?” 

Johnny just shrugged and turned his face away.

From the front of the bus, Johnny heard the sounds of a CB radio.  Doug was trying to raise somebody.

“County Health Center, this is Outdoor Adventures.  Margie, it’s Doug.  Do you have your ears on?  Are you out there?  Over.” 

The call was met with silence.  He tried again.

“County Health, this is Outdoor Adventures.  We have an emergency.  Please be out there.  Over.”

A crackle of static, then a response could be heard.

“Doug, this is Margie.  We’re here.  What’s going on? Over.”

“We just got off the river.  We have a seriously injured man.  He has a head injury, some broken bones, some hypothermia, and an injury to his brachial artery.  He’s in tough shape.  Over.”

“How far out are you?  Over.”

“Fifteen minutes if we drive at a safe speed, but we’re pushing it.  He may not have fifteen minutes.”

“OK.  Well, be careful.  Doctor Gregory is here.  He’s with someone now, but I’ll put him on notice.  We’ll have an exam room for you.  I’ll put the chopper on notice as well, but it’s grounded in Denver at the moment.  Over.”

“Thanks.  Over and out.”  Doug turned to face the men at the back of the bus.  “They’re good people over there.  They’ll be ready for us.  But be prepared, it’s just a clinic.  They can do IV’s and they have stores of blood, but . . well . . .   They’ll do what they can.”

++++++++

Remembering other experiences with rural clinics, Johnny wasn’t hoping for much more than a two-room office.  Doug’s warnings reinforced those low expectations.  He was therefore surprised when the bus pulled up to a two story brick building with a large sign reading “County Health Center” and a special area set apart for emergency vehicles.  As Barry pulled up to the automatic doors, they were met by a doctor, two nurses, and a gurney.

“Careful moving him,” Johnny instructed, as one of the nurses took Mike’s place and the medical staff helped Cap and Marco maneuver Roy off of the bus.   “He has a complex fracture of the right humerus, and a left brachial artery injury.  He also has a head injury.” 

With a pronounced limp, Johnny had to struggle to keep up with the team as they pushed his partner down the hallway.  He prepared for the inevitable battle to be allowed into the exam room.  As the door opened, one of the nurses stepped in front of him. 

“We’ll take it from here,” she said quietly, but firmly.  Johnny was about to argue, but was interrupted by the doctor whose nametag read Jim Gregory. 

“Are you the paramedic?”

Johnny nodded and pointed toward Roy.  “Both of us are LA county paramedics.” 

Gregory looked at the nurse.  “He can come in,” he said, then disappeared into the room.  Johnny looked back quickly toward the rest of his crew before taking a deep breath and letting the door close behind him.

The room was smaller than a treatment room at Rampart, but bigger than a standard exam room.  And at first glance, it seemed to be well equipped. Johnny tried to stay out of the way, as Doctor Gregory issued commands. 

“I want a CBC, a blood gas, and a type and cross match.  Start an IV with Ringers, wide open, and hang a unit of plasma.  I need a body core temp and get him on 10 liters of O2.  Then get me a suture tray.”

“He’s O negative,” Johnny informed the staff.  “The artery was cut about 35 minutes ago.  We had a tourniquet on it for the first 15 minutes or so, then we were able to control it with pressure.”

Gregory nodded.  “Hang a unit of O negative instead of plasma, but still get me a type and cross match, then see if you can find me 4 units of blood to start.”  Examining Roy as he spoke, he questioned Johnny.  “What else?”

“He went off the raft yesterday afternoon.  He was in the water for a while.  That’s when he broke his arm and hit the back of his head.  He also has a bad laceration on his left leg.  He was seriously hypothermic, but we got him warmed up.  His heartbeat was erratic for several hours, but it stabilized last night.  He’s been in and out of consciousness, mostly coherent when he’s awake.”

Johnny hesitated before he continued.  “He went back in right before the take out.  We hit a downed tree.  A branch pierced his arm.  His foot got entrapped.  It took us a few minutes to get him out.  He was never without air, but he was in the cold water again for about ten minutes.  He's been unconscious since then.” 

Again Johnny paused, this time long enough to cause the doctor to look up.  Looking at his partner lying still on the exam table, Johnny swallowed the lump in his throat and closed his eyes before looking at the doctor and continuing.

“We shouldn’t have put him back in the raft.  But at the time, it seemed like the only option.  I knew it was a bad idea, but . . well, there just didn’t seem to be any other choice.”

The doctor returned to his exam before he responded to the paramedic.  “The only new injury is the cut arm?”

“That’s right,” Johnny answered.

“You made the right choice.”

A knock at the door was followed by a young woman entering the room.

“Doctor, Denver General called.  The storm has let up.  Their chopper is in the air.  ETA is twenty five minutes.”

“Praise the Lord, and then pray that he helps me remember how to suture an artery.”   Turning to Johnny, Gregory added, “Why don’t you go have a seat with your friends?  I know where to find you if I need you.”

Johnny wanted to stay, but knew he would be in the way.  Before he left, he asked the question he knew would be asked of him in a few moments.  “Doc?  What do you think?”

Doctor Gregory stopped for only a second to look Johnny straight in the eye. 

“Does he have family?”

Johnny nodded.

“Call them.”

+++++++++++

Johnny had to force himself to make his way back to the waiting room.  Call them.  They were just two small words, but they pierced his armor and sapped his remaining strength.  He could feel his adrenaline-fed energy drain away, as he struggled to limp to the waiting room.  Sweat formed on his brow, sounds buzzed in his ears, and his friends blurred as the room tilted on its side and began to spin.  Hands grabbed him before he hit the floor. 

A wet cloth on his face brought with it a flood of anxiety and embarrassment.  Johnny felt like a hysteric, fainting at receiving bad news.  Against his better judgment, he opened his eyes and found himself looking into the face of a pretty young woman who was holding a penlight. 

“Perfect timing,” she said, as she quickly flashed the light into his eyes, checking his pupils for their response.  Johnny was relieved to see he was still in the waiting room.  He was dismayed to see his crewmates and Doug hovering in a tight circle around him.  Gently pushing the young woman away, he moved to sit up.  Several hands reached out to stop him. 

“I’m fine.  Really.  Look, the chopper is on its way.  I need to go call Joanne.”

Cap shook his head and took up a spot directly in front of his paramedic.  “You stay where you are until someone can check you out.  I’ll call Joanne.” 

Johnny objected.  “I should do it.” 

“I could argue with you on the basis of protocol, pal, but I don’t think that’s necessary.  I’m standing and you’re not.”  Before Johnny could object, Cap continued.  “Look, it’s not like I’m a stranger to Joanne.  It will be okay.”

“You don’t even know what to tell her.”  Johnny’s protest continued. 

“Yes, I do.”  Cap looked at the woman holding the penlight as he answered.  Looking closely for the first time, Johnny realized she was one of the nurses who had been in the treatment room.  They must have called her out. 

“I’m fine.  You go help Roy,” he insisted. 

“Dr. Gregory has all the help he needs, and you’re not fine.  We’re going to get some vitals, talk to the Doc, start up an IV, and get you into some dry clothes and ready for the helicopter.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, I’m fine.  I’m just tired.  I certainly don’t need to be air-lifted to a hospital.” 

Captain Stanley was about to jump in and pull rank, but the nurse made that move unnecessary. 

“Are you saying you don’t want to accompany your partner on the chopper?”

“No, of course not.  I mean . . of course I want to go with him.”

“Well, no civilians are allowed, and your paramedic credentials mean nothing here.  The only way you’re getting on that chopper is as a patient.  If I were you, I’d think twice about refusing medical treatment.”

She looked awfully smug, Johnny thought.  “That’s blackmail.” 

“That’s God’s simple truth.  So, what’s it going to be?  My way or no way?”

Johnny sank back down in surrender.  “I still think it’s blackmail,” he muttered under his breath, as the nurse smiled and took his wrist.

++++++++++

Four disheveled men burst through the doors of Denver General's Emergency entrance.   Their expressions conveyed the urgency and concern they were feeling, as they looked about anxiously.

"Over there."

First to speak, Chet's directions were unnecessary.  Hank was already striding across the crowded room to the desk marked "Patient Information," his crew directly behind him.

"Excuse me, I'd like to get some information on two of my men." 

The young woman at the desk looked up nonchalantly.

"Your men?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm Captain Stanley from the LA County Fire Department.  Two of my men were injured while on a rafting trip.  They were air-flighted here from County Health Center a few hours ago.  Roy DeSoto and John Gage."

"Let me check."

Hank leaned nervously against the short counter while Marco fairly stood on his toes in anticipation.   Mike was quiet, but had anyone looked, they'd see his hands clenched tightly at his side.  Behind them, Chet was in constant motion, pacing back and forth.

The nurse tapped quickly on her keyboard, then nodded at her monitor as if it were answering her in person.

"Yes, here they are.  Both of them are still in Emergency."

"How are they?  Can we see them?"

This time the woman's expression was anything but casual.  Her air was suddenly very cool and professional.

"Are you relatives?"

"No, but-"

"I'm sorry, sir.  There are no visitors allowed in Emergency unless they are directly related."

Hank turned towards his men, temporarily silenced by the woman's answer.  She was right, of course.  The same rule applied at Rampart General, but their connections with Dr. Brackett had always supplied them with the 'in' they needed.  Here, however, there was no friendly acquaintance to grant them extra privileges.  Here, they were merely friends of the victims, friends that were destined to sit in a waiting room until some scrap of information would be thrown their way.

Worried frowns graced the faces of all but one of his men.  That last man wore a look of resentment bordering anger.  Hank stared at him for only a moment before turning back to the counter.

"Ma'am, I realize you have to follow policy.  However, this is an unusual situation.  Is there someone in charge here that I could speak to?"

In that few seconds, Hank had transformed from worried friend, to Fire Department Captain.  His stance, expression, and tone of voice transmitted a sense of calm authority that wasn't lost on the young woman.

"Yes, sir, just a moment."

Picking up the phone, she placed a brief call.  Seconds later, a door opened behind her desk, revealing an older man.  Short and balding, he looked somewhat harried as he stepped up to the desk and greeted the captain.

"Gentlemen.  My name is Robert Hann, Assistant Administrator of Denver Emergency.  Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yeah, you could-"

"Chet."

Cap's voice was low and firm, but effective.  Chet was silenced but not stilled, not even when Marco laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, you can.  I'm Captain Stanley of the LA County Fire Department."  Hank pulled out his wallet and showed his badge for confirmation.  "We're here in Colorado to take part in a department-sponsored event.  Two of my men were injured, one critically, and both are currently being treated in your ER.  Since there are no relatives in the area, I'd like your permission to see my men and meet with their doctors."

Mr. Hann did not respond immediately.  However, he did appear to be carefully examining the men in front of him.  Whatever he saw must have convinced him to accommodate the group, at least in some capacity.

"If you'll give me a few minutes, I'll see what I can do for you, Captain."  Waving his hand toward a bank of chairs, he continued.  "Why don't you have a seat in the waiting room while I speak to the doctors."

Hank watched as the little man hurried through a set of swinging doors and disappeared. 

"Okay, guys, lets get comfortable.  I have a feeling this is going to take awhile."

Mike was the first to find a seat, followed closely by Marco.  Both were tired, and even though they'd just spent the last two hours sitting in a car, they were glad to stretch out in a more comfortable seat.  It had been a long week.  Chet, however, made no move to join his friends.  His pacing had stopped when Mr. Hann left.  Now, he simply stood, silently staring at the doorway.

"Chet.  Come on, Pal, let's sit down.  There's nothing we can do now, but wait."

"Yeah, I know.  It's just hard . . ."

Placing an arm around the younger man's shoulders, Cap guided Chet over to the others.  They were all taking this hard, each showing the signs in their own way.  That was never more obvious than the quiet drive they'd just shared.

The hours spent driving up from the clinic had been long and tiring, even more so after they left their guide at the motel.   It wasn't exactly the way Hank had pictured the end of their trip.  Doug had proved himself an excellent guide and a good man.  It was unfortunate that they hadn't had the chance to tell him so, or to adequately thank him for all he'd done.   In such a hurry to retrieve their car and luggage at the motel in order to get on the road, they'd barely taken time to shake hands and say goodbye.  Hank hoped that he'd have some good news to share soon.  Maybe then he could call Doug and make up for their leave-taking.   

Lost in thought, Hank was startled when Mike leaned over and tapped him on the arm.  Glancing at the clock, he was surprised to see that it had only been twenty minutes since Mr. Hann had left them.  Nevertheless, the man was quickly approaching them.  Rising to his feet, Hank waited uneasily.

"Mr. Hann?"

"Captain Stanley.  I hope you don't mind, but I called your superiors in LA County.  They've vouched for you."

There was a moment of hesitation as Hank struggled with the realization that this man had contacted his own department ahead of him.  An inner groan marked his frustration, but outwardly, he simply nodded.

"Also, I just spoke with Dr. Kenner, our Chief of Emergency Medicine.   He happened to be on duty this evening, and is overseeing Mr. DeSoto's treatment.  He'd like to speak with you.  Follow me, please."

Hank held back a smile.  It was too early for that.  But there was a great sense of reprieve.  At least he was going to see Roy and John, and talk to the doctor.  If nothing else, he'd know what was happening to them

"Cap?"

Chet's tentative voice stopped him, but Hank didn't get the chance to answer.  Mr. Hann took care of that.

"I'm sorry but only the captain will be allowed into the ER.  We're bending the rules as it is.  You understand."

They did, but that didn't make it any easier to accept.  Mike and Marco flanked Chet, and three longer faces you'd never hope to see.  Even Hank's thin smile of encouragement didn't raise their spirits.  But Mike, steady man that he was, kept things moving.

"Yes, we understand.  We'll wait here."

A quick nod of thanks was all Hank had time for as he hurried after the short-legged Hann.  Through the doors, and to the right, he didn't have a chance to focus on what the men were feeling behind him.  Now he was focusing on the men waiting inside.

The ER was set up much differently than Rampart's, but the feel was still the same.  White and sterile were the first words that sprang to mind.  After that, Hank noticed the busy chaos.  Only someone versed in emergency situations would realize that the chaos was strictly organized.  Every doctor and nurse on the floor knew exactly what they were doing, and where they were going.  Only to the unpracticed eye did the scene appear tumultuous.

Two open doorways were passed before Mr. Hann came to a stop.  He stared at his clipboard for a moment then motioned Hank inside.

"Dr. Kenner will be with you shortly."

With that, the man was gone, and Hank realized there was another thank-you left unsaid.  Passing it off, he stepped into the room, and came to an abrupt halt.

"Johnny."

The white-sheeted figure lay still, only the rise and fall of his chest signifying a living person rested there.  Hank's eyes traveled past the machines that beeped and buzzed, aware that the numbers he read were close to the normal range.  A BP cuff was wrapped around Johnny's upper arm, and he sported a nasal canula.  Otherwise, it would seem that the young paramedic was simply napping.

Moving quietly to stand beside him, Hank continued to watch John closely.  Even though it had only been a few hours since they'd left the clinic, he'd been worried about the young man.   It wasn't just the physical injury that concerned him, either.  Roy and John were tight.  They shared a friendship that was hard to match, and if Roy were to . . .    Well, Hank knew that there could be some rough days ahead if the news wasn't good.

"Cap?"

The weary voice broke through, and Hank grabbed hold of the hand raised towards him.

"Hey, Pal, how're you feeling?"

"'kay.  Gave me . . somethin' for pain.  Roy?"

Johnny's disjointed speech confirmed the use of medications.  Or maybe it was just the long ordeal finally catching up with him.  It was obvious that he was fighting hard to stay awake for news, but there was nothing to tell.  So Hank answered casually.

"Don't know yet.  Doctor is with him now.  How about you?  Did they tell you anything?"

"Nah."  Johnny's hand moved absently towards his face to pull at the canula.  His captain caught hold and tucked the hand back along his side.  "Doctor thinks . . might have fractured pelvis . . not sure.  Told him . .just bruised.  Gotta have . . x-rays."

"Uh huh.  Well, you follow the doctor orders.  Okay John?  We're not taking any more chances.  Got it?"

"'kay, got it."

The two remained silent, Johnny dozing peacefully.  The hard vinyl chair that Cap finally sank into was nothing like the waiting room furniture.  Several times, the younger man roused, as if trying to correlate his thoughts into some semblance of order.  Both times, he simply uttered a few unintelligible words then drifted back to sleep.  Not that Cap minded, really.  He wasn't up for any small talk, not that John was either.

The waiting was tedious though.   With no magazines, and no conversation, the minutes dragged by.  And the quiet simply gave Hank more time to think.  His thoughts drifted back over the past two days, the trip out from LA, their first day on the raft, and then the accident.  He glanced up at the clock, as if hoping that some outside information would calm his tortured mind, but it didn't help.  Looking towards the door didn't work, either.  No doctor appeared.  No nurse was there to interrupt his thoughts.  Instead, his mind continued its instant reply of the trip gone bad.

He could see them again, Roy and Johnny in the rapids, an injured Roy in the bottom of the raft, the whole crew working to get them safely home.  If teamwork was what the brass was looking for on this little jaunt, then he could certainly report that they'd been successful.  For teamwork had been performed, with a capital T.  Hank was proud of his men, each and every one of them. 

"Sir?  Excuse me, sir, are you Captain Stanley?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Hello, I'm Nurse Evans."

"Nurse."

The woman busied herself with checking Johnny's IV and noting his vital signs on her chart.  Just as Hank conjured up an acceptable question to get her talking, a tall thin man entered the room.  Looking very neat in his long white coat, the doctor stepped forward smartly, and held out his hand.

"I'm Dr. Kenner, and you must be the captain that I was told about."

"Yes, I'm Captain Hank Stanley.  Thank you for allowing me into the ER."

"Glad to do it.  This is somewhat unusual, but then, from what I understand, your whole visit to Colorado has been rather remarkable."

Cap almost grinned as he nodded in agreement.  "That's an understatement."

"Well, I wish I had good news to convey, but there are too many variables at this point, for both your men." 

The return of Cap's frown didn't interrupt the man's report, though the doctor did nod reassuringly.

“I've just left Mr. DeSoto, and they're prepping him for immediate surgery. We've already looked at the x-rays, and determined that he has a severe concussion, but no skull fracture.  His leg has been sutured, and there shouldn't be any complications there.  It's his arm that I'm most concerned about."

"Can it . .  will he-"

"Retain the use of it?  It's too early to tell.  He's responding well to treatment.  His body temperature is back up, and his other vital signs are close to normal.  He even regained consciousness for a few minutes."

"That's good."  Hank tried to keep the sound of disappointment from his voice.  He knew better than to expect anything different from the doctor's report.  Still, it was only natural that a man would hope for more.  "I mean, 'm glad that he's doing that well."

"I understand.  You just wanted better news."

"Yes.  It's already been a long wait."

"I'm sorry to say, it's going to be even longer.   We have one of our best orthopedic doctors on call this evening, and he'll be performing the operation.  But I expect that it will take four to five hours, and then Mr. DeSoto will be in Recovery for at least an hour."

"I see."  Hank rubbed his chin thoughtfully, trying to decide what his course of action should be.

"I'll be . . here.  Roy's gonna be . . okay.   You take guys . . get some rest.  I'll keep . . eye on things."

Hank turned sharply at the weary, but familiar voice behind him.  Johnny's insistence that Roy was going to be all right was admirable, but they all knew it was nothing more than positive thinking.

"And who's going to keep an eye on you, ya Twit?"

Johnny managed a weak grin at the Cap's teasing tone.  It was an obvious cover-up, one neither man would admit to.  Dr. Kenner seemed willing to play along.

"He'll have plenty of people keeping an eye on him.  In fact, there are two men on their way down here right now.  Mr. Gage has a date in X-Ray."

Cap looked back and forth between the two, his concern clearly evident.

"We can stay around a little longer.  I hate to leave with so many questions unanswered."

Johnny struggled to pull himself up, an act that was quickly stopped by the doctor's hand on his shoulder.

"Cap, s'okay . . really.  Trust me . .  just a bruise.  Gonna take a . . couple pictures . . prove it to them.  You . . . guys are bushed . . get some sleep.  We'll be . . alright."

Hank considered Johnny's sincere entreaty, but it was the doctor's worried frown that really caught his attention.

"No, Pal, we're not leaving yet.  I think we'll hang out in the cafeteria, get a bite to eat, and wait for those pictures you're so sure about.  If Dr. Kenner would be willing to page us when he has an answer . . ."

"Absolutely."  The doctor agreed with a smile.

Clearly, this man had a handle on the situation, and not even Johnny's persuasive attempts could get past him.  Hank had a funny notion that Dr. Kenner and Dr. Brackett had been cut from the same cloth.

Moving close to John's gurney, Hank laid a comforting hand on his young charge.

"Remember what I said, Pal.  You follow the doctor's orders."

"Yes . . sir."

Hank turned back to the doctor, reaching out to shake his hand.

"Thank you, Dr. Kenner.  I appreciate everything you're doing for my men."  He nodded towards the now-sleeping paramedic.  "We'll be in the cafeteria as soon as you have something to tell us about this one.  After that, we'll probably head back to the motel, but I'll leave the number with the nurse.  We'll also stop by before we leave in the morning.  Maybe you'll have more news about Roy by then."

"I hope so."

Dr. Kenner sounded sincere, and Hank found himself grateful for whatever fates put this man at their disposal.

A commotion at the door caused them to step out of the way as two attendants pushed a gurney into the room.  It only took a moment for them to transfer the half-sleeping Johnny onto its surface, and back out the door.  Following them into the hallway, Hank continued to stare after the group as they moved around a corner and out of sight.  It was always hard to trust his men to other people's care, but that's exactly what he had to do.  And there were some other men waiting for him.

Hank turned, and walked quietly back to the waiting room.

++++++++++

Hank Stanley looked at his watch as he stood by the doors at the ICU.  He had just enough time to spend a few minutes with Roy before he had to meet the others in the lobby and leave for the airport.  Just enough time, that was, if he could convince these people to let him in sometime soon.  He silently swore at the magnetic locks on the door in front of him and reached again for the phone on the wall.  Before he could pick it up, he was stopped by a hand that grabbed his arm.  He looked down at Johnny, who sat in a wheelchair at his side. 

Johnny shook his head and whispered, “Follow my lead.”  A man with a pharmacy cart was approaching the door.  Using his swipe card, the man opened the door.  Johnny spoke up. 

“Excuse me, could you hold that for a minute?  Last time I left the unit for a few minutes I got stuck in the door coming back in.” 

“Oh, sure,” the man answered, blocking the door from closing as Cap pushed Johnny through.  “Do you need any more help?” 

“No.  I’m all set now,” Johnny answered.  “Thanks.  Everybody here’s been great.” 

The man grinned with satisfaction at the praise.  “No problem.  Glad I could help,” he said, and moved on to the nurses station.

Cap just shook his head and continued to push Johnny toward Roy’s room. 

“The key,” Johnny bragged, “is looking like you know what you’re doing.  Be free with the compliments and gratitude, and never, and I do mean never, ask permission.  The answer is always no.  If you don’t ask and you get caught doing something wrong, you can always plead ignorance.”

“I’ll remember that next time you plead ignorance,” Cap said.  He stopped at room 302 and looked at the television monitor on the wall next to the door.  A piece of surgical tape at the top of the screen had the word “DeSoto” written in black marker.  The screen showed a read out of Roy’s heartbeat and blood pressure.  He knew that the same image appeared on a monitor at the nurse’s station, and at the man’s bedside. 

“You know how to read that thing?” Cap asked.  Johnny nodded.  “Well,” he pushed, “are you going to share your insights, or are you planning on keeping it to yourself?  How is it?”

Johnny shrugged.  “I’ve seen worse.” 

“But you’ve seen better.”

Johnny nodded. 

“Well, they wouldn’t have allowed us to visit if he wasn’t up to it, right?” 

“Uh, Cap?  They didn’t allow us to visit, remember?”

“Oh yeah.  Come on.  We better get in there before we get caught.”  Cap opened the door and pushed Johnny through, closing the door behind them.

No matter how prepared he thought he was, Cap was never truly ready for the sight of one of his men in a hospital bed, especially not in ICU.  Even when he had been hurt and bleeding on the river, Roy had looked like the rugged, tough firefighter that he was.  But here, in a hospital bed, surrounded by white sheets, attached to tubes and wires, all signs of dirt long gone, his paramedic looked small and pale – and vulnerable.  The smell of disinfectant was suddenly acute, and Cap had to shake off a wave of dizziness that threatened to overcome him. 

It wasn’t rational.  The doctors had told them Roy would recover.  They were even optimistic about his arm.  Roy’s prospects were far better today than they had been twenty four hours ago.  Cap knew that.  At least his intellect knew it.  Now, if he could just convince that part of himself that controlled the knot in his throat. 

“Hey, pal,” Cap choked out when Roy opened his eyes.  “You’re looking good.  How do ya feel?”

“Better.”   Roy’s voice was barely more than a whisper.  “You okay?” he asked his partner.

“I’ve been telling you for two days that I’m okay.  Just banged up is all.  No big deal.”

“And the wheelchair?” 

“Ah, it’s just for show.  You know, impress the nurses and all.  The poor, injured, big, strong fireman.”

Roy rolled his eyes, then looked at his Captain.  “Is he telling me the truth?”

“Well, he is an injured fireman.  As for the big strong part, well, I guess that’s in the eyes of the beholder.”

“Aw, come on, Cap,” Johnny protested, “just look at these big strong muscles.”  He flexed his bicep to prove his point.

“So, what are you avoiding telling me?” Roy pressed.

“Nothing,” Johnny assured him.

“They don’t put you in a wheelchair for nothing, and I know you didn’t volunteer to be in that thing.”

Johnny rolled the chair right next to Roy’s bed and looked him in the eye.  “I’m not pulling any punches here, partner.  I’m just all black and blue.  The bruising is deep and hurts more today than it did yesterday, but like I told you back on the river, it’s just bruising.  That’s all.  No fractures, no internal injuries.  I just got beaten up.”

Roy looked past Johnny to Cap.  “Why’s he in the hospital?”

“Now wait just a minute.  If I say-” Johnny’s objections were cut short by Captain Stanley. 

“You can hardly blame him for not believing you, Gage.  But he’s telling the truth this time, Roy.  No broken bones or other major injuries.  They’re keeping him here for a few days because of the exposure, and they want to watch both of you for pneumonia.  You both took more than one lung full of water as you may recall.”

Cap wished he didn’t need to leave these men on their own, but there was really no reasonable choice.  “So, the two of you get to keep each other company for a few days.  I, on the other hand, need to return to LA as planned.  It seems that I have a 6 AM meeting at HQ before our shift tomorrow morning.”  Cap could only imagine what the brass would have to say to him once he was there in person.

“Better you than me, Cap.”

“Gee, thanks a lot, John.  It’s nice to know I’ve got your sympathy.”

“Speaking of sympathy and conversations better avoided – do you guys have any idea about how to break this to Joanne?  She’s never going to let me hear the end of this.”

Cap and Johnny looked at each other.  “Well, um, Roy . .”  Johnny began.

“I mean,” Roy interrupted, “I know I have to tell her something.  It’s not like she won’t notice that I’m not on the plane.  I’ll have to call her before it lands, but I sure wish there was a way to let her think this happened in a car wreck or something.”

Johnny tried again.  “Roy, you know . .”

“What time is it, anyway?” Roy pressed on.  “How much time do I have to come up with a plan before I have to call her?” 

“I would say, no time.”

The men didn’t need to look to know that Joanne was standing in the doorway.

“Oh, hi, Honey,” Roy glared at Johnny before trying to smile at his wife who was glaring at all of them.  “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I tried to tell you,” Johnny said.

“Really, Roy.  Did you honestly think I wouldn’t know?”

“Well, I have to be going now.”  Hank eyed the door.  “The guys will be waiting.” 

“Traitor,” Roy mumbled.

“Thought you didn’t want to face the brass, Cap,” Johnny reminded.

Cap looked at Roy then Joanne.  “I’ll take my chances at HQ.  I think it’s safer there.  Roy, John, take care of yourselves and take whatever time you need.  Joanne, all I ask is that you don’t do any permanent damage, and don’t give Grace any ideas.” 

“Grace and I spoke last night.  She’s waiting for you in LA.” 

The tone in Joanne’s voice told Cap that his wife wasn’t waiting to give him a welcome home hug. 

“I can hardly wait.  Take it easy.”  With a quick, almost dash for the door, Cap was gone.

++++++++++++++

Roy's frustrated glare went unnoticed as the men focused on Johnny. As for the younger paramedic, he seemed totally oblivious to his partner's discomfort. It was Roy's first day back at Station 51, and the crew was in good spirits.

It was the first time they'd been together since the paramedics had been flown to the Denver hospital, and everyone was anxious to share their memories of the adventure. That is, everyone except Johnny. He was more interested in what happened at the DeSotos' house. Holding out his cup, Johnny never missed a beat in his story, while Marco poured the coffee.

 

"I still can't believe that woman! She must've spent her whole visit telling Roy off. You guys should've heard her: 'You're a fool, Roy DeSoto, and irresponsible too.'”

Johnny's singsong impersonation of Roy's mother-in-law was enough to throw the other members of A-Shift into fits of laughter. But he wasn't done.

 

“'I can't believe you'd be so immature as to go out on a big river like that with no experience. It's just plain stupid, and your boss must be the same to send you on such a trip. I think you're all just a bunch of overgrown boy scouts. And you can tell your fireboy friends I said so, too.'”

"No kidding? She really said that?" Chet could hardly contain himself. "You'd better not repeat that story to Cap, though. I don't think he'd appreciate being called stupid, even if it was by Joanne's mother."

Roy was quick to defend his wife.

"Hey, it's not like Joanne agrees with her or anything. She was upset at first, but she knows it was just an accident. And now that Dr. Brackett has okay'd me for full duty, well . . she's gotten over it. Besides, there's no way my wife would ever call Captain Stanley 'stupid'."

"Did I hear someone volunteering for latrine duty already?"

"Cap!"  Chet choked out.

"Morning, Cap."

"Morning. Roy, how ya doin', Pal?"

"Great. I think."

Roy's 'deer in the headlight' look was too much, and Cap laughed out loud. It took several minutes for the group to quiet down, but Chet was ready.

"You know, this is what have we been trying to tell you guys all along," he offered. "Roy's mother-in-law is the perfect example of why smart men stay single."

"Yeah, women just have a way of complicating things." Johnny muttered. "Chet's right, there's a good reason why we stay single."

"The only reason you're still single is ‘cause nobody will have you, Gage."

"Oh yeah, Kelly? Well, you couldn't find a woman to-"

"How about a little fire department business this morning?" Cap interrupted.

 

Johnny's expression didn't change. Neither, for that matter, did Chet's. The rest of the men just looked relieved.

Cap didn't bother to waste time contemplating the upcoming Phantom/Pigeon war. He had bigger problems to deal with. Like how to explain this new venture they'd been assigned.

Absently crumpling the paper in his hand, Hank struggled to find the right words to explain it to his men. The directive from headquarters was very clear. Still . . .

 

"Men."

Five pairs of eyes stared at him intently, and Cap couldn't help but stammer unprofessionally.

"I have a . . .well you see . . . there's something I should. . . Okay . . it's like this."

Not even Mike's nod was encouraging enough. Cap cleared his throat before trying again. Dropping his eyes to the paper, he tried to get it said all at once.

"Evidently, the consultant has some new ideas on team-building since the rafting thing was scrapped. Since we've already been involved, they'd like Station 51 to be the first to . . .

Cap's head shot-up as chairs crashed to the floor. Five men raced past him to the doorway and fought their way through.

"Let go!"

"Move, Chet, I have beds to make."

 

"Get out of my way."

"Johnny, you're on my foot!"

"I've got latrine duty!"

 

Cap stared at the empty doorway.

“Twits!   Hmmm . . . wonder if the Chief would be interested in volunteers for that other seminar.  Seems like they were going to play that chuckle-belly game Marco talked about.  Yep, that'd get 'em.”

The End!

Thanks to Kenda for the Beta read. 

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