Unwitnessed

Part 2

Margie returned home at midnight, and she and Frank went to bed. She chattered on and on about her visit with her friend, and Frank politely listened and nodded when necessary. He was glad when she fell asleep before him. No matter how hard he tried, every time he closed his eyes all he could see was the rig swerving and going towards the side of the road. It appeared he wasn't going to be able to sleep after all. Cautiously he climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom.

The young man stared at himself in the mirror. His bloodshot eyes were the only indication something was amiss. He was wrestling again with his conscience. If he told the cops he would go to jail. If not, he'd be okay but could he live with himself? At this point he was pretty sure he couldn't.

He put his jeans back on and grabbed his keys. Quietly slipping out of the house, he drifted the Jeep back onto the street and let it roll away from the house before starting it. He headed for the scene of the accident.

~*~*~

Working his way through the ambulance, Johnny did his best to focus on the job he had to do and shut out the pain that was his constant companion. It hurt to breathe and every movement he made caused another burst of pain through his stomach. As weak as he was, the paramedic was almost certain there was some kind of internal bleeding; he didn’t even want to think about how bad it could be. Add to this, an aching head and eyes that seemed to see everything in duplicate; made for a very frustrated Gage.

At least I’m awake again. If I keep passing out every few minutes, I’ll never find that damn biophone.

As he maneuvered past the stretcher, Johnny stopped for a moment as he remembered again what a terrifying experience the boy’s death had been. Having a victim right next to him and being unable to give him any kind of assistance . . . Johnny dropped his head for a moment. He could see the boy’s arm as it dangled off the side of the stretcher, and he picked it up, carefully placing the limp appendage next to the boy’s side. Gulping back a sob, which threatened to overtake him, Johnny began to move again. There could be another victim who was depending on him, and he didn’t want to waste any time. If it took his dying breath, he’d do everything in his power to get the help they needed.

The process was a slow one, and Johnny wasn’t the most patient of men. The ambulance itself was not that large, but the paramedic’s deteriorating condition was hampering his progress. Crawling through the ravaged vehicle should have taken mere minutes, but was proving to take hours instead. Several times, Johnny slumped down, the small room seeming to tilt and sway around him ending in a black void that kept him a prisoner for an undetermined amount of time. After each period of unconsciousness, the young man seemed to be weaker, and he wondered if he’d even be able to make it out.

Finally, his hand reached out to grab hold of one of the battered doors. They were turned at odd angles but still firmly attached to the sides of the ambulance. Pulling himself carefully into a crouched position in the opening, Johnny was able to get his feet under him and then carefully swung them out and down to the ground. As he gingerly stood up, his legs wobbled weakly beneath him, and Johnny spent several minutes clutching the end siding of the vehicle. He was relieved to feel the cool night air on his cheeks, the gentle breeze licked at his hair and brought some sense of revival to his lagging spirit.

I made it . . but now what? Where’s Gary and how will I ever find the biophone?

Johnny stood uncertainly, peering first left then right in an effort to make sense of the accident scene. In the pale light of a new moon, he was able to make out more of the medical paraphernalia that had been strewn about the area. But Gary was nowhere in sight.

“Gary. Can you hear me?”

His voice was hardly audible, and Johnny thumped his hand against the lower open door in frustration. That motion, too, was obviously a weak one, and very painful. Realizing that the only thing he could was to search; the weary man began to step forward. But the action was too much. The searing pain through his middle, the burning in his chest, combined with the pounding in his head proved too much for the injured man. His mind never registered a thing as his limp body struck the ground.

~*~*~

Parking the Jeep on the side of the road, Frank Miller grabbed his flashlight and climbed out of the vehicle. He searched for the scant signs of an accident that nobody else seemed to have been able to see. The man crept into the tall grass and weeds and slowly began to descend towards the location he was sure the ambulance headed. He didn't hear anything at first, other than the local wildlife creating its normal symphony of sounds.

Miller was using caution because he had passed a couple of patrol cars leaving the area, plus the underbrush was so dense he didn't want to run into any of nature's larger creatures while he satisfied his curiosity.

At the point when he began to think he erred and was searching in the wrong area, Frank heard something. It was a sound that didn't come from any animal. What he heard was a groan or a moan. He crept closer and shined his light around. The beam of light caught one of the reflective strips on the ambulance. It startled Frank to see the extent of the damage. He took another step towards the vehicle; the sound was coming from outside the back end of the rig. The man slowly crept closer, cringing when a couple of twigs snapped under his feet. As he carefully peered around the back end of the ambulance, he surveyed the area. Miller could make out Gary's limp form, his legs still under the wrecked vehicle. Johnny was lying nearby. The open door in back caused him to believe that neither was the driver. But from what he could see of the front end, he figured nobody could have survived if they were in the cab. Frank turned in an effort to sneak away from the crash site when he heard a moan again. Somebody was still alive.

Miller shined the light around the area again and saw some movement from the man in the blue shirt. The light caused the victim to lift his head part way off the ground.

"Roooy? Oh God," Johnny panted. He bit his lip in an effort to deal with the pain. "Where....are...you? Help....somebod...somebod... help..." Gage lowered his head back to the ground. A hushed silence fell over the scene.

Frank took off like a scalded animal.

Oh God...he's alive...he's hurt...he didn't see me but he knows someone was there...he...

By the time he reached the top of the hill, Frank was out of breath and ready to vomit.

What have I done? I shouldn't have been such a wimp. I should've just gone to the police. Now if I do, I’ll really be in for it. He leaned slowly walked towards his vehicle. More than one of them could be dead. I know that guy I saw needs help. What am I going to do?

Frank Miller got back in the Jeep and drift-started it again when he was about a quarter mile from the accident scene. He drove aimlessly for another hour, only stopping briefly to get gas when he noticed the gauge was almost on “E”. As he filled the Jeep’s tank, he tried to think about what to do next. Getting back in his vehicle, he drove around for another hour, fighting the urge to throw up. The man soon found an open lot to park in and sat in the cool air thinking. He was tired, cold and needed coffee. Frank drove to an all-night diner and went inside. While drinking his coffee he decided that if nobody found the accident victims by morning, he could call the cops from a payphone and give an anonymous tip. That only slightly eased his conscience. The underlying urge to throw up was still there.

~*~*~

As Johnny opened his eyes again, he had a strange feeling of deja-vu. Struggling to focus on his surroundings and make some sense of his predicament, Johnny realized that he had, indeed, been unconscious again.

Wonder how many times that makes?

Taking a quick mental inventory of his condition, the paramedic in him recognized the severity of his injuries. Johnny knew he should be conserving his strength, but the urgency of the situation overruled any possible conservative opinions. He almost imagined he could see Dixie shaking her head and telling him to lie down and quit moving around, but the vision faded as the young man shook his head. There would be time enough to take it easy later, or at least he hoped there would be. For now, he had to find Gary and the biophone.

Turning his head carefully to the side, Johnny was aware at last that he’d made it out of the ambulance. Recognizing the new sensation as being the cold ground he was now lying on, he started the slow process of getting up. It was then that a startling memory came back to him.

With a gasp, Johnny recalled the movements of a flashlight as if someone was searching the ambulance. He remembered calling out to the person, but nothing after that. Who had been there? Roy? Where was Roy? Could it have been . . . no, Roy or any of the guys from the department would be here with him now. But who would’ve made their way down the hill, taken time to check around and then left without helping?

Johnny continued to worry over the possibilities as he pulled himself into a sitting position. Whoever it was, had they gone for help? Would they be back soon with rescue personnel? How much longer before he looked up to see Roy’s worried face staring down at him? He hoped it would be soon; he didn’t know how much longer he could last. And he needed to tell Roy something. . . but what? It seemed like there was something they needed to resolve, but he couldn’t quite remember what it was.

~*~*~

“Would you like a refill?”

Frank Miller looked up at the sound of the voice that he only half heard. “Huh?”

The waitress held the coffee pot up higher. “Your coffee. Would you like a refill?”

The man stared at her, not answering.

“What, did I wake you up?”

Frank shook his head. “No. . .no you didn’t. I’m sorry. I -- yes. . .ah no, I don’t want a refill. I gotta go.” He quickly got up from the booth he had been sitting at, brushing by the waitress. Remembering he had yet to pay for his coffee, Miller stopped, pulled out his wallet, and handed her a ten-dollar bill. “Here, keep the change for a tip.”

The waitress was stunned. “But I didn’t do anything, really. You sure about this?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks,” she said, a smile on her face.

Frank’s mind was miles away and the waitress’s gratitude went unheard. He numbly went out the door and to his Jeep. Once again the man’s stomach felt like it was going to come up. He went around to the back of the vehicle and stood out of the light from the restaurant. Frank finally gave in to the nausea that had plagued him the past few hours.

~*~*~

After waiting for what seemed like forever for help to arrive, Johnny gave up hope, surmising he must have been hallucinating about the flashlight. Or was it just that he hadn’t allowed enough time to pass? He decided it didn’t really matter. Bottom line was, he was the only one moving about at the scene; and he not only had yet to find Gary, but it was up to him to get the help they needed. Johnny looked at his surroundings from his seat on the ground, searching in the dark for any shape that resembled the biophone. His eyes locked onto another shape in the grass, and his stomach knotted up at what he feared he was seeing. Gary was lying on his back in the grass, his legs disappearing underneath the body of the ambulance.

How come I didn’t see him sooner? How could I have missed seeing a victim that was practically beside me?

Johnny had no explanation, but beating himself up over the issue wasn’t going to do them any good. The important thing was, he now knew for sure that Gary hadn’t gone for help.

“Gar. . .Gary?” No answer. Johnny didn’t know if the man was still alive or not, but the only thought in his mind was that they needed help . . .and they needed it now. A new resolve overcame Johnny to find the biophone regardless of what it took. He frantically gazed around again, desperate for a communication link to someone. . .anyone. . .

C’mon, please.

He spotted the familiar box several feet away, partially hidden behind some other debris. It was going to take a lot of effort to get to it. He only hoped he’d have enough energy to do anything with it once he got there. And if it was inoperable . . .the dark-haired paramedic didn’t even want to think of that scenario. Shoving any negative thoughts out of his head, Johnny began to slowly drag himself forward, ignoring any pain it caused.

~*~*~

It was 5:00 in the morning and the guys at Station 51 were just finishing with the cleanup of a house fire. Roy and Brice headed away from the scene, taking an injured fire fighter to Rampart after he fell through a weakened portion of roof and into an attic. Once they had the patient turned over to Morton in the ER, the two men stepped out to the base station. Roy was surprised to see Dixie had come in already.

“What are you doing here?”

The head nurse looked up from the paper work on her desk. “I couldn’t sleep, so after a few hours of staring at the ceiling, I decided to come in. Betty needed to take care of some family business anyway.” She paused a moment, not sure she should bring it up, but the fact remained that Roy’s partner and the ambulance were still missing. Dixie was all too aware of how close Gage and DeSoto were. Judging by the tired and worn appearance of the senior paramedic, she guessed he was as bad off as she would have expected. She voiced her concern. “How are you holding up? Have you gotten any sleep?”

“I’m okay. I’ve managed to sleep some.”

Brice was standing behind Roy and shook his head slightly, indicating Dixie wasn’t getting a completely honest answer. The nurse gave Craig Brice a knowing look.

“Why don’t you go in the lounge and have some coffee,” Dixie offered. “You look like you could use a break. And if you want to talk, I’m right here.”

“I don’t know, Dix. It just doesn’t seem right to be doing anything when I know Johnny’s out there somewhere and I have no idea what kind of shape he’s in.”

With their minds on the conversation at hand, no one heard the barely audible “Rampart” come over the base station radio. As Dixie started to show her concern for Roy again, the voice came over the radio; this time somewhat stronger.

“Rampart.” There was a pause as Johnny had to work at getting enough breaths to continue. “51.”

Three stunned faces turned towards the base station. For a split second no one moved, not even to breathe. The color drained out of his face, Roy felt himself start to tremble as he suddenly came out of the shock of hearing his partner’s weakened voice. He hurried over to the radio, Dixie one step ahead of him.

“Go ahead, 51,” the nurse said, hoping Gage would continue.

Brice was to the side of Roy and both paramedics were subconsciously trying to will the radio transmission to continue.

C’mon, Johnny, Roy thought. C’mon. Answer.

The radio remained silent for a few seconds, then the sound of uneven breathing followed by a raspy whisper. “Ram. . .rampart. . .”

“Roy, talk to him,” Dixie said flatly. “Say what ever you have to.” She picked up the phone nearby to page doctor Early.

DeSoto depressed the talk button on the radio and tried to get a response from his partner. As much as he tried to remain calm, the paramedic could not hide the emotion in his voice.

“Johnny? Johnny, answer. This is Roy. We need to know where you are.”

He and Brice exchanged worried glances.

“Johnny?”

~*~*~

Gage was lying on the ground beside the biophone. The effort it had taken for him to maneuver over to the piece of equipment had taken its toll as he expected, and the dark-haired man was at his end as far as being able to do anything. After finally getting the few words out that he had, and hearing Dixie’s voice on the other end, he figured he’d done his part. Dixie wouldn’t let him down. In his muddled state of mind, Johnny didn’t think to figure no one knew exactly where he was.

When he heard his partner’s voice come over the biophone, Gage wanted to reply. But he could feel himself fading out again. As much as he fought it, he was losing the battle to stay conscious and soon gave in to the darkness. The paramedic was lying on his side in the deep grass, the biophone receiver hanging loosely out of the box beside him.

~*~*~

Roy was beside himself. The longer they went without a reply, the more he had to shove away sickening scenarios that were running through his mind. His worst fear was that the brief radio transmission was the last time he’d ever hear his partner’s voice. He continued to try for a response.

“Johnny, can you hear me? Where are you? C’mon, answer, Junior.”

Brice watched DeSoto, not sure what to do or say. He and Gage had their differences at times, but his concern for the guy was just as sincere as Roy’s, and probably as intense.

Roy continued to stare at the base station radio, unable to make himself step away. Doctor Early listened as Dixie filled him in on what had transpired. He glanced at Roy and shook his head.

“He’s about to lose it. I’m tempted to pull him off duty on doctor’s orders, but if there’s any chance they find the ambulance this morning. . . he needs to know he stands a chance to be there.”

“I know,” Dixie whispered. “I notified the police and fire department about the transmission. And it’s still open, so if he can talk to us, I’m sure Johnny will.”

~*~*~

Much to Roy’s dismay, he and Brice got a call for a minor motor vehicle accident. He had to leave the only link he had to his partner. Craig took over the driving duty, as DeSoto admitted he was too distracted to handle the traffic. Lost in thought as they drove, Roy didn’t even hear the call over the radio canceling the run. He gave Brice a puzzled look when they turned around.

Craig shrugged. “The call was cancelled. Let’s go talk to Captain Stanley. I’m sure he’ll want to know the details of what happened at Rampart and how Gage sounded.”

Roy didn’t reply, but rather accepted what Brice suggested. He merely turned to look out the passenger window.

How he sounded was like he could barely breathe. God, where is he?

~*~*~

Frank Miller slowly picked up the receiver in the pay phone. He had driven several blocks from the diner so that no one could identify him. Now was his chance to make the whole nightmare end. When the police dispatcher picked up on the other end of the line, Miller gave a general description of where the ambulance was. He knew the call would be traced, therefore he ignored the questions asked of him. He placed the phone receiver back on the cradle and got in his Jeep. The man pulled away, satisfied he’d done the right thing and no one would ever have to know who had unintentionally sent the ambulance over the side of the road.

~*~*~

Brice backed the squad into the apparatus bay. Captain Stanley was standing to the side waiting for them. He motioned the two men into the day room where Chet, Mike and Marco were already seated. Stanley directed the paramedics to take a seat.

“What’s going on, Cap?” Roy paled as he took a seat next to Mike.

“I just got off the phone with headquarters. It seems they got an anonymous tip as to where the ambulance went over. The person wouldn’t stay on the phone long enough to answer the questions they asked. Just told them the location and hung up. Copter 14 is taking off . . .” He paused to look at his watch, “just about now to check it out.” The captain paced the room back and forth as five pairs of eyes watched his every move in anticipation of any more news that he could share with them.

Roy looked at his watch. The time was now 6:05.

What are we doing sitting here? If we know the general area where the ambulance is at, we could be there already waiting in case . . .

Roy closed his eyes and dropped his head down onto his folded arms on the table, his fingers gripped tight. He felt faint with fear for his partner and a headache was beginning to rattle his already tightly wound mind.

“Roy, I know you want to be out there,” Stanley began, taking in the paramedic’s reaction. “But we have to make sure it’s not some prank call. We have the line open to headquarters and Copter 14, and by now I’m sure Rampart is listening to the transmissions. Believe me, as soon as they even suggest it can be the ambulance, we’re there.”

Hank Stanley felt every bit as helpless as Roy at the moment, but he knew they had to wait for the assurance that the tip about the ambulance was valid.

DeSoto lifted his head, “I know, Cap. I know.” He sighed. “I just can’t stand this waiting, not knowing exactly what condition Johnny’s in.”

The captain sighed in frustration, knowing full well that every minute was going to count. Johnny’s, and the other victims’ for that matter, golden hour had long ago run out.

~*~*~

Dr. Early and Dixie were anxiously sitting at the base station, listening to the transmissions back and forth between headquarters and Copter 14.

“You think it could actually be the ambulance this time, Joe?” Dixie prayed silently while voicing her concern.

“I sure hope so for everyone’s sake,” Joe sighed as he listened to the communication. He glanced at his watch. It was now 6:15. They should be over the area soon, he calculated. He mentally figured out what they would need in case the missing ambulance was really found. As soon as word came from Copter 14 that it was positively the ambulance, he would propel everyone into action.

Dixie stared at the papers in front of her. She read the same chart for the fourth time, having no idea what it even said. Her mind drifted to a certain dark haired paramedic that would be sorely missed should he not survive. She thought back to the first time she had met him and thought that he hadn’t changed much at all. Often like a boy in a man’s body, she smiled at the memories. But also one of the most responsible paramedics we have.

~*~*~

Frank Miller looked at his watch, as he heard the sounds of the helicopter flying above. It now was 6:15. The man had left his Jeep hidden in the thick trees off to the edge of the road, opposite the side of the road with the steep embankments. The vehicle was a mile down from where he now waited. Miller had to make sure they found the ambulance before he took off. His conscience was screaming at him and he was sure he had developed an ulcer from the stress. Now that he saw the helicopter was hovering over the place where he knew the wrecked ambulance was, Frank slowly wandered back to his Jeep and drove towards town. It was over. He’d have a lot of explaining to do to his wife if she knew he’d been gone all night. But if everything went right after this, he would still have his life at home.

~*~*~

“LA, this Copter 14. We have a visual on a white vehicle over the embankment. It looks like it might be the missing ambulance. It’s quite a ways down the embankment, partially covered in thick brush,” Joe Breuer announced as he checked the area better with his binoculars. “Be advised we can make out that it is the ambulance and we have a visual of two victims outside. One looks to be pinned underneath the rig. It’s going to be rough going and rescue will have to be done on foot. We’ll find a clearing where we can land and will wait further instructions. Suggest you send two engine companies and have another helicopter for medivac purposes to be standing by to transport the victims. You’ll need manpower,” he further advised.

~*~*~

Dixie snapped out of her reverie as soon as she heard the transmission. She approached Joe in anticipation of what was going to be needed to treat the victims. Suddenly to their surprise, Brackett started barking out orders before Joe even had a chance to open his mouth. Dixie and Early both jumped at hearing the doctor’s voice. They turned and stared open-mouthed at him as he continued rambling on. Neither Joe nor Dixie had heard Brackett come in. They had been too absorbed in listening to the conversation going on between Copter 14 and LA. Kel stopped and gave them both a questionable look.

"Are you both just going to stand there looking at me like I have two heads? We have to get the treatment rooms set up." He sighed as he suddenly remembered that he had to inform Eddie's parents that the ambulance had really been found this time. Knowing that Early and McCall had the rest under control, Brackett began his search for the Robinsons.

I'll check the waiting room first.

Kel secretly hoped that Eddie's parents had gone home and hadn't come back yet. He knew the day was going to be tough enough without facing the distraught and angry parents again. And what if he had to deliver more bad news? The doctor didn’t even want to cross that bridge until he had to. . .if he had to.

~*~*~

Roy started running for the squad as soon as he heard the ambulance identified. He didn’t even wait for the tones to finish going off. Brice was right behind him, as were the rest of the crew. Craig started to move to drive, but the look Roy gave him clearly told the temporary crewman he belonged in the passenger seat this time out.

Brice backed away from the driver’s side of the squad and quickly got in the shotgun position. He was worried about Gage, and he was relieved that the ambulance had finally been spotted. Craig Brice realized that this was only the beginning and that the eventual outcome could be very difficult for Roy. He vowed silently to be there for his co-worker...no matter what.

~*~*~

Engine Company 51 pulled out of the station and made their way toward Topanga Canyon as fast as they could. Hank Stanley knew his men were antsy about joining the rescue effort. He smiled slightly as he imagined a white-knuckled Brice sitting in the squad praying that DeSoto would slow down. The squad wasn't really speeding, but it was probably going a bit over the legal limit. Glancing quickly at the speedometer of the engine, he caught Mike giving him a curious look.

Sorry, Mike," the captain said sheepishly.

"It's okay. I wanna get there just as bad, but we do need to make it in one piece."

Hank looked at his often-quiet engineer and saw that the man was trying to force a smile. He knew what Mike was trying to do and it did help the captain to relax for the moment. Nobody knew what they would find when they arrived and it scared the hell out of him to think he might have lost one of his men. It also angered him that they weren't able to find the victims sooner, and that somebody out there must have known where the ambulance was, but kept the information to himself.

Hank made a fist and slammed it on the bottom edge of the window opening. Mike looked at him again. "Cap?"

"I just can't believe that somebody knew where that ambulance was...all this time...and never said a word."

"Me either. But, I’m glad that the person finally decided to call it in."

Nodding in agreement, the captain flexed his sore hand and stared at the squad in front of him. This was not going to be easy for Roy...or any of them.

~*~*~

Dr. Kelly Brackett squared his shoulders and summoned the strength to go find the Robinsons. He felt like he was walking his ‘last mile’ as he approached the waiting area. His stomach did a flip and the corner of his mouth twitched. Brackett surveyed the room and saw that they weren't there. For the moment he felt relieved. The doctor slowly walked back to the base station.

"Kel?" asked Dixie. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, but he hadn’t been gone very long.

"They weren't there. Do you think they might be in the cafeteria?"

"Could be," she replied. "Want me to go with you?"

That brought a small smile to his face. He didn't need anyone to hold his hand through this; he had given far worse news to people in the past and survived to do it again. But it couldn’t hurt.

"Sure, misery loves company."

Dixie stepped around from her desk and walked with the doctor to see if Eddie's parents were taking a breakfast break. Both were a little surprised to find that the Robinsons weren't there.

"Guess maybe they finally went home,” Kel said. “I'll give them a call and let them know the missing ambulance has been found."

The nurse sighed and watched her friend of so many years suddenly look much older than he was. She reached out and put her hand on his arm, giving him a reassuring smile. The doctor sighed in return, no need of thanks to be spoken.

Both Dixie and Brackett left the cafeteria to get back to their respective jobs. The nurse didn’t envy Kel having to make the phone call. She also hoped that when the victims were brought in, the parents would be reunited with their son. No one had brought up the fact that he might not be okay. It was a thought they all wanted to avoid.

~*~*~

Marco and Chet were silently sitting in their seats on the engine, each man lost in thought and worried about their shiftmate. It was times like this they disliked their profession. Life was precarious enough, but for something like this to happen made it seem even more risky.

"Chet?"

"Yeah, Marco?"

"You think Johnny’s gonna be okay?" Marco knew that no one knew the answer to that question, but he needed to say something to break the tension.

"Sure. I'll bet he’s down there leading a card game or something, just waiting for us to show up and haul their butts outta there."

Marco gave a wan smile and looked out the side window. They were quickly approaching the canyon and he was once again consumed with worry and dread over what they might find once they got to the scene.

Chet sensed Marco's mood and he clapped the man on the shoulder. He wasn't looking forward to this either. Staring out his own window, he felt his stomach tighten and his heart start to beat a little faster. Roy's description of how Gage sounded played over and over in his head.

~*~*~

Craig Brice looked pointedly at his temporary partner. Roy’s knuckles were white from clutching the steering wheel so tight. Brice glanced at his own knuckles. They were just as white from hanging on. He was contemplating whether or not to say something to DeSoto about the speed at which they were driving, but thought better of it.

The paramedic knew Roy was worried about Gage and that he wanted to be there in the worst way. Brice would never forget the distraught look on Roy's face when they found out the first vehicle was not the ambulance. He hated to see what this whole ordeal was doing to the entire crew of 51's.

Roy could feel Brice's eyes on him. He wanted to tell the other paramedic to stop staring at him, but keeping things in perspective, it really didn’t matter. Roy was on edge and knew he had no right to take his frustration out on Brice. He concentrated on getting to the scene of the accident as quickly as possible and when he noted his speed, he slowed down. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Brice's hands relax a little.

~*~*~

Kel Brackett stared at the phone in front of him. He drummed his fingers nervously on the desk and made several attempts to pick it up and dial. The man was not intimidated easily, but he dreaded having to deal with Eddie’s parents. Mr. Robinson was so angry and had threatened to call his lawyer. Brackett hoped it was an empty threat, but had a feeling this whole thing would get ugly if the outcome was as grim as he feared.

Picking up the phone he dialed the number and waited for an answer on the other end. He let the phone ring twenty times before giving up on someone answering. Brackett assumed that meant they were on their way. He dialed the desk at the base station and left word to notify him when the Robinsons arrived.

~*~*~

Roy pulled the squad in behind Station 110's engine. He was surprised to see Dwyer standing beside Callahan in front of the squad from 110, waiting for directions from that captain. Roy stepped out of his vehicle and, without caring one whit about Brice, hurried over to his colleagues from the other station.

"Heck of a day I picked to pull overtime," Dwyer stated in answer to DeSoto’s questioning look.

Roy half nodded, his mind already fully focused on the victims and his partner below. "What's going on? Where's the equipment? Can you see them?" The words came out in a rush.

"Roy, we're waiting for a final report from the copter before we make our assessment. Hold on for just another few minutes," suggested Callahan.

"I hope they have a few minutes,” Roy mumbled.

Brice placed his hand on Roy's shoulder.

"Gage’ll be okay.” Brice squeezed the man's shoulder ever so slightly. The spontaneity of the gesture surprised all of them, including Brice, but it seemed to have the desired effect. Roy nodded and stood quietly along with the others, peering down the steep slope, trying to imagine what his partner was going through. He also tried to imagine how his partner could have possibly survived the crash if the ambulance was that far down that they couldn’t see it from the road.

"Okay, men. We're ready to get going," declared Captain Stanley. 110's captain, Jim Kramer, stood along side his colleague. Given the fact that it was one of Hank's men down below, Captain Kramer deferred to his peer so Stanley could run the call.

Roy reacted with a startled expression, but immediately made a move back toward the 51 squad.

"Hold on, Roy."

The blonde paramedic stopped his forward motion and turned to look at his captain with an annoyed expression. "Cap, we can't waste anymore time."

"I know, Roy. I know," he said thoughtfully. Then, in his most authoritative tone, Captain Stanley gave his orders. "Dwyer, Brice, get your gear. Callahan and DeSoto, you get everything organized topside for when the victims are brought up."

"Victims?" echoed Roy, his tone incredulous. "That's not just any victim down there. That's Johnny, and I’m making the climb down." He took a step as if to make his point, but Hank grabbed his arm and held tight.

"Not this time, pal, not this time." The captain wore an expression of understanding, but the firm grip he had on his paramedic's arm showed just how serious he was in not allowing Roy to go down to the site.

"Cap, why?"

"Because we aren’t sure what we’re going to find. And you’re too close to this.”

"Please. I'm fine. I'll be fine."

Stanley looked briefly over at Brice, who, with a surreptitious shake of his head, confirmed Hank's suspicions that the best place for Roy to be during this rescue was topside, where everyone could keep an eye on him. Once the man's partner, along with the other victims, were brought to the top, the captain was confident that Roy would be able to carry out his duties. It was the potential of the initial shock of seeing how seriously Johnny was hurt, or worse than that. . .what if they were too late. . . was the reason that Hank wanted to avoid sending Desoto down. He figured the place which would be safest and pose the least stress to his man was topside, under his watchful eye. He knew damn well that Roy wouldn't like it, and would fight him tooth and nail.

Which is why his mouth gaped slightly when he heard Roy respond, "Okay, Cap."

"Okay?"

Roy simply nodded and hung his head as he moved toward the squad.

Hank looked at the other men and shrugged his shoulders. "I wasn't expecting him to give in quite so easily," he said softly.

"He's exhausted, Captain."

"I'm sure all of the men at 51 are exhausted, Brice," stated Kramer.

"Yes, of course, but Ro - DeSoto - is feeling the stress in particular. Wouldn't you agree, Captain Stanley?"

"Yeah, Brice, I would. And I want to thank you."

"Thank me?" Brice truly looked confused.

"Yeah, thank you for watching out for him. You've been put in a lousy position today, and you've more than met up to the demands it brought on. I just want to thank you on behalf of all of us at 51. You've been a real asset these last several hours."

Brice stood there, literally speechless. If Hank hadn’t been so worried, he would have burst out laughing; he'd never known Craig Brice to be at a loss for words. He decided to put the poor guy out of his misery.

"Get your gear, Brice . . . Dwyer. Both of you move it! We've got a rescue to take care of, and I've got orders to give you as soon as you have your gear in place."

"Yes, Sir!" Both men moved quickly to their respective squads.

Brice approached the squad with a little trepidation. He saw Roy pulling equipment out of the vehicle with more than a little vigor. The distraught man slammed the doors hard to shut them as well.

"Hey, um, Desoto - Roy - Dwyer and I, well, we'll bring him up, okay?"

"Yeah."

"It really is better this way."

"He's my partner," Roy said, his tone almost pleading.

"I know. We'll take care of him, I promise."

"Yeah."

"Are you going to be okay?" Brice looked at the chalky pallor of the senior partner. He didn't look well, though Craig was sure Roy's condition would improve once he saw John Gage brought up, alive and well. The only problem with that line of thinking was the probability of Gage being well was next to nil. The possibility of his being alive didn't seem to have much better odds, given how long he'd gone without help.

"Look, Roy, just get everything ready for him, okay? He's going to need all of your expertise once we get him topside, alright?"

Roy looked at Brice and knew he was doing his best. Hell, the man was acting downright compassionate, but all Roy could do was nod his head slightly in acceptance of the situation. Brice patted him gently on the back and quickly got his gear. He moved back to where Captains Stanley and Kramer were waiting with Dwyer.

"Bring him up alive, Craig. Please, bring him up alive," Roy whispered, watching the two paramedics don their gear.

~*~*~

Frank Miller pulled into his driveway, a feeling of dejavu’ from the morning before washing over him. Only difference was, the day before the nightmare was just beginning. Now he hoped it was coming to an end. The man had to force himself to get out of the Jeep. He didn’t want to tell his wife what had happened, but Frank knew it was time.

As the man opened the front door, he saw that Margie was already up and sitting on the couch waiting for him.

“I’m sorry.” Was all Frank could say.

Margie studied her husband’s appearance. He looked so tired. She cleared her throat and quietly spoke. “Where have you been?”

Frank sighed. This was it. His stomach knotted up, and he hoped he could get through this without vomiting again. Miller walked over to the television set and turned it on.

“What’s going on? Frank, is everything okay?”

“No.” The distraught man swallowed hard. “Something happened yesterday that I never in my life thought would.” Frank sat down on the couch beside his wife and told her everything he had been through in the past 18 hours. As he finished his story, the couple watched the live film footage on television of the firemen beginning their trek down to the wrecked ambulance.

“I had to let someone know,” Frank said, his eyes not leaving the screen. “I saw one of the men on the ground when I went back and he called out for help. I had to get him help, Margie.”

The woman massaged her husband’s back. “You think they’ll figure out it was you?”

“No,” he shook his head, wiping at his red-rimmed eyes with the back of his right hand. “I think I messed up the tracks enough. If not, they’re just gonna know it was a Jeep. Not whose, though. And there’s no damage to mine from the accident.” He swiped at his eyes again as more tears formed. “I’m sure the driver is dead. And if he is, the guy was the only one who saw me coming. The others were in the back, so they may think he swerved to miss an animal in the road and just lost control. . . I couldn’t tell anyone I caused the accident. I might’ve ended up in jail on manslaughter charges and our lives would be ruined.” Frank’s voice cracked. “Margie, I couldn’t let anybody know.”

Margie nodded, wiping away her own tears. She gave her husband a reassuring hug. “I know. It’s okay, Frank. It’s okay.”

The couple watched the television screen in silence, their hands firmly clasped together. Both knew they were doing the wrong thing overall. But they not only were husband and wife, they were best friends. Through good times and bad, they always were there for each other. It wasn’t going to be easy living with the secret hanging over their heads, but the alternative was too much to bear. Both prayed silently for survivors to be brought up from the accident scene.

~*~*~

It was slow going down the embankment for Dwyer and Brice. The surface was uneven with rocks here and there; with the added errant growth of brush that could be camouflaging possible unseen dips or holes in the ground and with the damp grass from the early morning dew being slippery, the trek down was a difficult one. The men were being extra cautious, not wanting to end up a code I as well. The victims at the bottom of the hillside were too important for them to make a careless mistake, so they took their time. Brice concluded they'd definitely made the correct decision in keeping DeSoto from making the descent. It would have been too agonizing for him to have to take his time in getting down to the accident site.

The two men didn't say a word as they finally reached bottom. Dwyer moved automatically to the front of the ambulance to check on the driver, while Brice moved toward the rear of the vehicle to check on the man that appeared pinned underneath. He noted that the one back door was open, the other hanging down freely.

I see how the attendant ended up under the vehicle.

"Dwyer! What have you got?" called out Brice, as he began to check vitals on his patient.

Charlie walked over to where Brice knelt by the second victim and shook his head. Craig acknowledged the man's silent diagnosis and said, "This man is unconscious, but he's alive. His legs look like they’re wedged in under the ambulance pretty tightly, though there’s a big rock underneath the vehicle kind of alleviating some of the pressure. I’d say we're still going to have to be sure to have the shock pants ready to go on as soon as we free him up, just in case. I suspect there are internal injuries and bleeding. He also has a head injury."

Dwyer nodded and peered inside the wrecked vehicle. The only occupant of the ambulance was the original patient, Eddie Robinson. The paramedic quickly climbed inside and checked his pulse.

Charlie shook his head in disbelief. The poor kid may have had a chance if it wasn't for someone keeping the location of the ambulance a secret for so long. Then again, looking closer at the head injury sustained, Dwyer surmised it might not have made a difference. Still, it was all so senseless; the kid didn't deserve to die like that in the back of an ambulance.

As Dwyer jumped down out of the ambulance, he saw Brice kneeling beside something in the deep grass several feet from the wreck. . .it was Gage, lying amongst debris and the still open biophone. There was no sound of anyone at Rampart trying to contact the man; the two paramedics surmised the base station had most likely become too busy to stay in contact. Equipment was strewn everywhere, tangled in with brush, which swayed every now and then from the cool morning breeze.

When Dwyer stepped closer, he gasped in response to seeing Johnny’s face. It was covered in dried blood. Brice had placed his hand on Johnny’s neck to check for a pulse.

“Well?” Charlie asked, afraid of the answer.

Craig nodded. “He’s alive. The pulse is faint and thready.”

That was all Dwyer needed to hear. He quickly contacted the men above on the HT and called for the remainder of the necessary equipment to be sent down in a stokes.

Brice was still working on Johnny. He gently pressed his hands up and down all along Gage's torso and extremities to determine if there were any broken bones. The ribs were definitely out of alignment, but there didn't seem to be anything else broken. What surprised the paramedic was the heat he could feel radiating through Johnny’s clothing. Gage definitely had a high fever.

Craig took a closer look at his patient, wondering what would have caused the feverish condition. There was an inflamed gash on the side of Johnny’s head that was deep and would require stitches; more than that, it was most likely infected, explaining the reason for the rise in body temperature. And although the blood had clotted, Brice realized that the bleeding could start with any movement, bringing about renewed problems for the man.

There was no doubt in Brice’s mind that Gage had at least suffered a moderate concussion; it was the possibility of a skull fracture that had him really worried.

Next Craig Brice pulled open John's shirt and couldn't help but gasp at the sight of the bruising on the man's torso. There was a definite swelling in the belly area. While Craig would be the first to admit he was no doctor, he was certain he was correct in diagnosing internal bleeding.

Brice reached for the biophone, which lay near Gage's hand. He hoped the battery hadn't died.

"Rampart, Squad 51.”

When he didn’t get an immediate reply, Craig tried again. “Rampart, this is Squad 51. Rampart, come in please."

"Squad 51, we read you. What do you have?" Kelly Brackett's voice had an edge to it that Brice couldn't remember ever hearing before.

"We have four victims, Rampart. Two are Code Fs. We have one victim whose legs are pinned under the ambulance and is unconscious. Also one Code I who has suffered blows to the chest and head, and is unconscious. He’s running a high fever as well, probably from an infected cut."

"Squad 51, would you please identify the Code Fs?"

"The ambulance driver and the patient, Eddie Robinson."

There was a discernable pause before Brackett's voice came over the wire again. "Okay, Squad 51, do you have any vitals for the victims?"

"Yes, Rampart. I can give you vitals for the Code I.”

~*~*~

Rampart received the information they'd requested about John, and after Brice picked up the biophone and delivered it to Dwyer, they received the information regarding Gary's condition as well. Brackett delivered instructions to be carried out as soon as it was physically possible, with a directive that was more a plea than an order.

"Get them in here STAT!"

~*~*~

Brice let the crew topside know that they were going to send up Johnny first, since it would take them longer to free Gary from underneath the ambulance. Two crewmembers from 110 had gone down beside the stokes with the equipment and were there to provide assistance with the victims. Marco and Chet were sent down behind them, since time was of the essence in getting both injured men topside. The two men from 110’s assisted Brice with Johnny, while the other two went to Gary’s aide with Dwyer. As much as they wanted to help their co-worker, Chet and Marco agreed they were too close to the situation to stay 100 percent focused near Johnny.

Brice monitored Gage's vitals. The paramedic that was often Johnny’s nemesis was getting more and more concerned. Gage was having trouble breathing, which led Craig to believe his lung might be partially collapsed. The dark-haired man was fading in and out of consciousness, but there was very little evidence of any cognizance of his surroundings or situation. Rampart advised Brice to set up an IV and get some fluids in his patient while they prepared to bring him up. Brice observed some changes by the time they had Johnny ready to go into the stokes. Only problem was, the changes weren't good.

"Damn it, he's seizing." Brice quickly grabbed the biophone. "Rampart, our Code I is now experiencing a seizure. Please advise."

"Administer 5 mg of Valium," ordered Dr. Brackett.

Brice followed the orders and hoped that the meds would do their job. It was going to be tough enough to get John up the steep hillside since the helicopter couldn’t land down near the accident site; it would be even tougher if he was fighting through a seizure.

Damn fever. His body temperature is way too high.

~*~*~

Brice climbed up alongside of the stokes with Gage in it, hoping the unconscious man wouldn’t have another seizure. The often annoying paramedic was determined to see his charge safely delivered to Rampart no matter what it took.

When they'd pulled the stokes up a third of the way, Brice suddenly heard Gage both grunting and gagging. He saw that the injured man was pulling at his arm and leg restraints, and Brice feared that Johnny might actually injure himself further. Craig first used the HT to direct an immediate halt to the proceedings and then concentrated on Gage.

Even with the stokes resting on the steep angle of the ground, Brice couldn't easily turn Johnny over on his side. With Gage’s head strapped down as well, Craig had no choice but to place a mouth guard inside Gage's mouth to prevent him from possibly clamping down on his tongue.

When the seizure finally ended, Brice keyed the mic of the HT to let the men topside know they were ready to resume the trek up the steep slope, when he heard a groan from Johnny. He quickly took his finger off the mic button.

"Gage, are you with me?"

The injured paramedic groggily opened his eyes, but his head remained still as it was anchored in place by the head restraints. As his vision came more and more into focus, the feeling of panic became more and more evident.

"You're going to be okay."

"R - R – Roy?" Johnny croaked out.

"It's okay, Gage. I'm taking you to DeSo -- Roy."

"'Kay."

Johnny closed his eyes. Brice felt his pulse and determined that it was no worse, but knew that his patient could go sour at any given moment. He needed to get the man to Rampart as soon as possible. Craig keyed the mic again.

"Engine 51, HT 51.”

"Engine 51, go ahead HT 51."

"Resume the ascent."

"How's he doing, Brice?"

"Get us the hell out of here, Cap. HT 51 out."

~*~*~

The men in position above pulled the stokes up and settled it as gently as possible on the level ground. Brice was helped up with his final step and immediately unbuckled his safety belt. He knelt down beside Johnny and asked for 110's biophone. Craig called in right away and informed Rampart of Gage's second seizure.

"Administer another 5mg of Valium and monitor. Do you have a new set of vitals?"

"Just getting them now, Rampart. BP is 80/50 and respiration is shallow. Pupils are unequal and responsive."

"Keep the IVs wide open and wrap and run, Squad 51."

"The chopper is within our sights, Rampart. We should be leaving the scene in approximately six minutes. Squad 51, out."

Roy kneeled on the other side of Johnny and checked over the injured man while he waited for Brice to finish the transmission. Once he saw Craig replace the receiver in the biophone box, he began the questions.

"Is he responsive? Was he conscious at all?”

“Yes. And he briefly regained consciousness on the way up.”

“How long were the seizures?” Roy asked as he checked Johnny’s pupils.

Brice sighed. “DeSoto, if you ask me, any seizure is too long.”

Roy barely acknowledged the answers as he continued to look over Johnny’s injuries.

“Does he know what happened to him or has he said anything to you?”

“I don’t think he does and he only asked for you,” Craig explained.

Roy glanced up at Brice. “He did?” When his temporary partner nodded, Roy felt a false sense of relief. He knew it didn’t mean Johnny was going to be okay, necessarily. But it was a start.

“Was he able to tell you--”

“Roy, that's enough,” Captain Stanley said. “Let Brice do his job. When Johnny's ready to be taken to the chopper, you can help Craig get him there and then ride along.”

Roy nodded and helped Brice gather up the equipment to go in the helicopter with them.

The blonde paramedic picked up the stokes at the end by Gage's head, while Brice picked up the other. They quickly carried their patient to the helicopter and climbed in after him. Two other firemen from 110 handed the needed supplies to them.

Brice strapped the stokes down securely, while Roy picked up his partner's hand and did a quick pulse check.

"It's stronger than it was, DeSoto."

"Yeah? That's hard to believe." The worried expression on Roy's face caused Brice to recheck their patient's pulse, in the fear that perhaps Gage was experiencing a downturn.

"It's fine, DeSoto. It's weak, but now it's steady. It really was much threadier earlier."

"Oh. Okay."

"Roy, he's made it this far. You know Gage; this is just another day at the office for him."

Roy allowed a smile to briefly escape from his lips. "Yeah. I guess so," he said as he looked with concern at his partner. Then Roy remembered something Brice had said earlier. "You did what you said you'd do."

"Yeah? What was that?"

"You said you'd bring him up for me, and you did."

"Yes."

"Thank you."

"For what, DeSoto? For doing my job?" asked a surprised Brice. He was not a man used to hearing thank-yous from his colleagues, much less two in one day.

Roy nodded and echoed, "For doing your job, and for doing it so well."

"Yeah, well," Brice stammered, and then added, "Now let's just hope Gage here keeps up his end of the bargain."

~*~*~

It took almost twenty-five minutes to extricate Gary and then to get the shock pants on. It took another thirty minutes to get the victim topside. When Gary was finally brought to the road above, a helicopter was able to pick him up for quick transport to Rampart, with Dwyer accompanying him.

~*~*~

The Robinsons waited by themselves in the doctor’s lounge for the latest news on their son. The brief description they had gotten for the location of the wrecked ambulance had them hoping for the best, but fearing the worst. Both were trying to prepare themselves for the worst-case scenario. Mr. Robinson held his arm around his wife’s shoulders while they sat on the couch, neither having many words to say, their efforts more on silent prayers for Eddie.

Suddenly the door to the lounge opened and Kel Brackett stepped inside. The grim expression on his face spoke volumes.

Eddie’s mother felt the life drain out of her. She was overcome with an emptiness that nothing could have prepared her for. It felt as if her very own being had been ripped away. Barely hearing the doctor’s words, “I’m sorry,” the mother just stared straight ahead, not focusing on anything in particular. She wanted to leave, to get away from everything and everyone around her. But there was no way she would get more than two steps before collapsing on the floor if she tried. Her hands began to shake, the reaction soon becoming a full body tremble. Tears flowed freely down the mother’s cheeks. The woman shifted her gaze to the floor as she whispered, “No, oh God, no.”

Eddie’s father was devastated. He had planned this moment out in his head so many times in the past twelve hours. How he would go off on the doctor, call his own lawyer and get a lawsuit underway. But the harsh reality was, none of that came to play. It just didn’t matter who was to blame anymore. His son was gone. No more sharing Eddie’s dreams of becoming a football star; no need of the plans they’d talked about for college. His shoulders sagging in defeat, the man buried his face in his hands and sobbed.

Brackett had to fight to hold his own emotions in check. He shared the pain the Robinsons felt; losing a victim, especially a youth, was always tough. He also knew there were stages to the grieving process and as soon as the Robinsons worked through the first few, the anger they had felt earlier would return. It was a sure bet there would be a lawsuit with time, but that was the least of his worries. Not only was he more concerned with the parents’ well being, but he still had two men from the accident that took Eddie, fighting for their lives.

~*~*~

Roy leaned back and studied his partner’s face. The helicopter had been in the air for several minutes and the paramedic sighed with relief as he realized they were finally close to getting Johnny the help he needed. As he watched Brice checking Gage’s vital signs again, Roy thought back over the past hour. From the initial call, through the drive to the accident site and the seemingly endless wait while the crew had worked to bring his partner up the hill, Roy had felt the adrenalin rush. Now that they had Johnny safely on the way to Rampart, he felt like he could actually take a breath again, shaky though it was.

Johnny’s breathing however, was shallow and irregular. The pallor of his skin, at least the part that could be seen, was frightening. Most of his face was covered in blood, some of it dried, but some areas still wet with the sticky substance. Roy leaned down and carefully started to clean the red matter from his partner’s face. His heart constricted as he realized just how fragile Johnny looked.

The first jolt of movement had Roy wondering what was going on with the pilot. He figured maybe they’d hit a downdraft or some other type of wind current. But as Johnny’s body twitched again, Roy instantly realized he was witnessing a seizure. Seemingly frozen in place, he watched in horror as his friend’s body bucked and twisted with convulsions. Brice worked swiftly and competently to protect the young paramedic from any further injury. The mouth guard in place, he contacted Rampart even as Roy held onto Johnny’s forearms.

The sandy haired man didn’t realize he was speaking out loud, but Brice watched him carefully as Roy murmured soothingly to the unconscious man. Of course John couldn’t hear him, but Brice realized the attempt wouldn’t hurt anything and might help Roy in some way. He was relieved to see the seizure pass, grateful that its duration was shorter than the one before. Brackett’s voice interrupted his thoughts as the doctor responded to Brice’s latest relay.

“Get me a new set of vitals and continue to monitor every 2 minutes.”

“10-4.”

Relaxing back on his heels, Roy realized for the first time that he was on the floor next to his partner. His hands still clamped around Johnny’s forearms, he wondered briefly when he got into that position. He had no memory of moving off the bench beside him. The only thing he could remember was the terrifying vision of his friend in the middle of a seizure.

Releasing his partner from his grasp, Roy drew a ragged breath and swiped an arm across his forehead. He wasn’t surprised to see it wet with sweat from his brow. How many times could this happen to his friend before serious damage resulted? Or had it occurred already? Would Johnny be changed forever? That is, if he even made it . . .

Both paramedics were relieved when the chopper descended to the heli-pad at Rampart General. A team was waiting and moved forward immediately with a gurney. They quickly transferred Johnny on to it and headed toward Emergency. Dr. Brackett met them at the swinging doors and the group raced into Treatment Room 2. The flurry of activity was lost on Roy. As the doctors and nurses bustled around his friend, Dixie snagged his arm and moved him firmly toward the door.

“Come on, Roy. Let’s wait outside.”

Though he was anxious to stay with his friend, Roy was also comforted by Dixie’s actions. It was hard to see Johnny in this condition, and he dreaded the words he was so sure the doctors were going to utter: “we’ve lost him.” Once in the hallway, Dixie settled Roy in a seat not far from the doorway.

“Why don’t you wait here and I’ll bring you a cup of coffee. Then I’ll go back and check on his progress, okay? Roy?”

“Huh? Oh . . yeah, okay.”

Time seemed to have no measure as Roy waited in the busy hallway. Doctors and nurses came and went as the busy activity of the emergency room flowed around him. But the worried paramedic simply held his seat, as if frozen in time and place, waiting for news he didn’t want to hear.

Dixie had returned with his cup of coffee; then she too joined the stream of people coming and going. The now cold cup of dark liquid sat unnoticed on the floor beneath his chair.

~*~*~

Hank, Mike, Marco and Chet arrived at the hospital together. After the crew had assisted in Gary’s rescue, they had returned squad and engine to Station 51 just in time for the next shift to take over. Not even taking time to change, the worried friends hurried to the hospital, anxious to check on Johnny’s condition.

As the four men walked through the emergency room doors, the first person they saw was Roy. Slumped in a hard plastic chair, the man was a picture of despair, and the men exchanged looks of horror as they assumed the worst. Hurrying forward, Hank stopped in front of Roy and laid a hand on the paramedic’s shoulder.

“Roy? Is he . . .”

Looking up, Roy was surprised to see the worried faces of his friends staring down at him. Blinking his eyes several times, he struggled to understand why they were here and what they wanted.

“Roy. Are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah, Cap. I’m okay. It’s Johnny . . .”

“Yeah, pal. How’s he doing?”

“Don’t know. . .”

Roy nodded his head toward a door, which remained closed.

“What about Gary?”

"Mmm. . Dr. Morton was working on him. But I think . . yeah. . they just took him up to surgery."

"Where's Brice? Roy? Is Brice still here?"

"Yeah . . .uh . . .no . . .no, he went back to 110 with Callahan. They had to turn the squad in to the next shift. . .he said he'd be back later to see how Johnny and Gary were doing."

Hank watched the paramedic carefully, uneasy about the way Roy responded to their questions. He knew the man was exhausted, but the way he was reacting was unusual for the normally steadfast man. Looking around, the captain was dismayed to realize he didn’t recognize anyone, and Dixie was nowhere in sight. Stepping over to the nurse’s station, Hank waited patiently for the duty nurse to look up from her chart.

“Yes?”

“Excuse me, I was wondering if we could make use of the doctor’s lounge for awhile. We’re waiting for word on one of my men, and the rest of the crew are pretty upset.”

“I’m not sure if that’s allowed, sir. If you can wait a few minutes, I’ll go check . .”

“It’s alright, Cindy, I’ll take care of it.”

Hank turned to see Dr. Early standing behind him. The gray haired man grasped the captain’s arm for only a moment.

“Captain, why don’t you gather your men and meet me in the doctor’s lounge. I’ll fill you in on Johnny’s condition.”

Nodding his head, Hank turned and walked quickly back to the waiting men. Joe Early observed the group as he stepped to the phone and called to notify OR of their next emergency patient. As he relayed the necessary information, he could see Roy looking about expectantly, then rise to join his shift mates as they moved towards the appointed meeting place. Seconds later, the door of Treatment 2 opened, causing the group to stop in their tracks. Their startled faces turned to watch as Johnny’s gurney was rolled carefully through the doorway, followed by Dixie and Dr. Brackett. 'A' shift stood in stunned silence, as their injured member was moved swiftly down the hall towards the waiting elevator.

Roy wasted no time. He bolted from the group and in seconds was standing next to his friend’s side. Dr. Brackett nodded his assent to the attendants as their progress was halted. Roy grasped Johnny's hand for a moment then leaned down. No one heard his murmured reassurances but everyone who witnessed the scene, prayed that this wouldn’t be the last communication shared by the two friends. Within moments, the gurney was in motion again, Roy standing forlornly in the hallway as the elevators closed and his best friend disappeared.

~*~*~

An anxious group of men gathered in the doctor’s lounge several minutes later. Craig Brice joined the members of A-shift as they waited for Dr. Early to appear. Leaning back against the wall, Brice folded his arms and watched surreptitiously.

Roy was nervously perched on the edge of a chair, while Hank stood close by, observing his paramedic thoughtfully. Mike sat across the small table from Roy, glancing up at regular intervals as if monitoring the man’s condition. Marco stood quietly by the window, and though Brice couldn’t see the man’s face, he imagined the man’s lips might be moving in silent prayer. Chet seemed to be the antsy one of the group. Pacing back and forth across the floor, he was obviously frustrating his captain. With a quiet but firm word that even Brice couldn’t hear, Stanley finally put a stop to it and Kelly dropped onto the small sofa.

Even though Brice cared a great deal about the men he worked with, he knew he wasn’t part of this close-knit group. After several minutes he made his decision, and clearing his throat, caught Captain Stanley’s attention.

“Brice?”

“Cap, I’m going to head out now. I’ve got someone coming by to pick me up, but I’ll stop in later to see how Gage is doing.”

“Okay.”

Almost hesitant at first, Hank swiftly overcame his indecision and stepped forward. Grasping the surprised paramedic’s hand, the captain shook it warmly.

“I want to thank you again, Craig. I really appreciate what you’ve done for my men today.”

Looking into the captain’s eyes, Brice knew that the man was saying more than a simple thank-you for the medical attention he provided Gage. The captain was also thanking him for the moral support he’d given DeSoto during the long hours of waiting. Firmly returning the grasp, the paramedic nodded; then quietly left the room.

~*~*~

Stopping in front of the doctor’s lounge, Joe Early drew a deep breath, pushed the door open and walked inside. Roy stared at the doctor as he made his way across the room; then waited impatiently as Joe poured himself a cup of coffee. Finally, unable to stand the suspense any longer, the paramedic broke the tension-filled silence.

“Dr. Early? What can you tell us?”

Turning slowly to face the group, Joe studied each face carefully as he pulled up a chair and sat down next to Mike Stoker. Rubbing a tired hand across his face, he slowly took a sip of coffee before answering.

“Not a lot, Roy. Johnny’s in surgery right now, as you know. We wanted to get his temperature down a little before taking him up to OR. The laceration on his head had become infected and we believe that’s what caused the seizures. Now that we’ve started Johnny on antibiotics, I don’t expect that he’ll have any more episodes like that.”

“Doc. What are they operating for?”

Joe turned to look at Chet who was now standing nervously by his side. The stocky man seemed more agitated than usual, and the doctor was mildly surprised.

“They need to find out where the internal bleeding is from, Chet, and repair any damage necessary. They’ll also re-inflate the lung.”

Looking around the group, Joe knew there was no use in telling them to go home. The firemen were not only co-workers; they were close friends. The doctor was sure they’d stay here together until Johnny was safely out of surgery. He breathed a silent plea that the ‘safely’ part would hold true.

“You’re welcome to stay here while you wait, but it’ll be a few hours before we know anything more.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“Yeah, thanks Dr. Early.”

Stopping for a moment in the doorway, Joe turned back to face the men. Watching Roy carefully as he spoke, the doctor did his best to sound upbeat.

“Johnny’s not out of the woods yet, Roy, but your partner’s young and strong. Kel will do everything possible to make sure he stays that way.”

This time Roy couldn’t answer. He merely nodded his head as Dr. Early left the room.

~*~*~

Almost three hours had passed since Johnny had been taken upstairs. The firemen continued to occupy the lounge, its confines small and stifling, yet somehow oddly comforting. Roy wondered to himself, if he’d have the strength to step outside this room again if . . .

Slapping his hand against the table, Roy shoved himself out of the chair and began to walk back and forth across the room. Hank had an odd sense that somewhere during that morning, Roy and Chet had exchanged places. Where before, the dark-haired man had been filled with unfocused energy while the sandy-haired man was immobilized, now Chet sat unresponsive on the couch while Roy paced ceaselessly.

Captain Stanley knew the waiting was wearing on all of them. Heck, they’d done nothing but wait since yesterday morning. First they’d had the long day of wondering what had happened to Johnny and where he was. Now they were dealing with the anguish of not knowing whether their friend would make it or not. Add to that, the concern that even if Johnny did survive, would he be the same . . . With a scowl he wasn’t aware he wore, Hank stretched his long legs and stood up. He figured he might as well follow Mike's lead and pour himself a cup of coffee. Standing with his back to the window, Marco was the first to notice the figure in the doorway.

“Cap.”

Everyone in the room turned to face the new arrival. As Kel pushed the surgical cap off his head, he realized that no one had uttered a sound. Their eyes filled with worried anticipation, the men of Station 51 waited silently for his report. He was glad, now, that he’d come straight from surgery to tell them. There was no sense putting off the news.

“Gentlemen.”

~*~*~

When the news on TV reported that there were two deaths and two men critically injured in the ambulance wreck, Frank Miller and his wife were both devastated. They wanted so badly to be able to talk to the families of the victims and give their apologies for the grief Frank had caused. Unfortunately, they also both knew the need to stick to their resolve to keep his involvement underwraps; especially due to the outcome of the victims. Frank got up off the couch and turned off the television. Since he and Margie were going to live with the charade, they would have to try to shut the facts of the accident out.

~*~*~

The men waited anxiously for Brackett’s news. Roy tried to read the expression on the doctor’s face, hoping to figure ahead of time how grave the news would be. Hank Stanley set his cup of coffee down on the table.

“Doctor Brackett. . .how’s John?”

Kel Brackett cleared his throat. “He’s in recovery and everything seems to be in his favor right now. We found the source of the internal bleeding. It was a very small tear in his liver. Once we got a chest tube in him and drained the air pocket, the collapsed lung reinflated. He’ll have the chest tube in for a few days, but the punctured lung will heal itself.” He folded his arms across his chest and leaned on the wall near the door. “The antibiotics are taking care of the infection and a large bruise we found on his lower back turned out to be just that. A bruise. No sign of spinal injury anywhere.”

“But. . .”

Brackett eyed Captain Stanley.

“You’re leaving something out,” Hank explained.

“The head injury,” Roy interjected. “How bad is the head injury?”

The doctor sighed. “It’s not a skull fracture. He was lucky in that regard. However, I’m concerned with the amount of time he’s been unconscious. It was still quite a blow to his head. Add the high fever to that. . .”

“Will he be okay?” Chet asked.

“We won’t know until he wakes up. I just think you all need to be prepared for anything.”

The five men nodded, a few exchanging glances, two shifting their gazes to the floor.

“What about Gary, the ambulance attendant?” Roy wondered.

Brackett cleared his throat. “He’s going to make it. And we think he’ll be able to keep his legs. There must’ve been something keeping the brunt of the pressure from the ambulance off his legs when he was pinned. But he will need extensive physical therapy before he’ll walk again.”

“A rock,” Chet began. “The ambulance was resting on a large rock.”

The doctor nodded. “He’s very fortunate. He’s regained consciousness, but can’t remember anything about the accident.”

“So Johnny may not either,” Hank said.

“He may not.” Brackett rubbed his chin in thought. “It might be better that he doesn’t. Hearing from us that the other two victims died in the accident will be bad enough. Who knows what he witnessed or heard. Remembering that firsthand may be too much.”

The men knew the doctor was right. Johnny often took it hard when he and Roy lost a victim. To be in a situation where he may have had to watch someone die . . .for the first time they hoped he wouldn’t remember everything.

~*~*~

Once Johnny was moved from recovery to a room in ICU, his friends were allowed to see him, albeit two at a time. Captain Stanley and Roy went in first, while Chet, Mike and Marco stopped in another room to give Gary some encouraging words.

Hank and Roy slowly walked over towards Gage in the dimly lit room. The amount of equipment that surrounded him was startling at first, but both men knew it was to be expected.

The captain pulled over two chairs for he and Roy to sit in, but Roy stayed on his feet, taking in the fragile appearance of his partner. Times like this it really hit DeSoto just how much his friendship with Johnny meant to him. He couldn’t imagine anyone else beside him in the squad on a permanent basis. It wouldn’t be the same.

C’mon, Junior. You’ve gotta be okay.

Hank could see just how devastated his senior paramedic was. After all the waiting and wondering, the elation at finding Gage alive was short lived as everyone began to realize that the younger paramedic’s career could be through if he was left with permanent disabilities.

~*~*~

The night following his surgery, Johnny began to come around enough to where he could open his eyes and respond to voices. Doctor Brackett stopped in to see the paramedic one more time before the end of his shift. He took the chart off the foot of the bed and studied the latest information written down. When he noticed Johnny’s droopy eyes watching him, he stepped near the head of the bed.

“Hello, Johnny. It’s good to see you’re doing so well.”

Gage lazily blinked and his lips parted as if to say something, but nothing came as a response.

The doctor observed the paramedic closely before continuing. Gage looked confused and worried. “If you’re wondering why you’re here, you were in an automobile accident. You got banged up pretty good, but barring any complications, you should be okay.”

Johnny stared at Brackett, as if waiting for more information.

The doctor considered telling Johnny more about the accident, but for the moment decided it was better the man not know there were other victims with him. He looked at the chart again. “Your temperature is normal. Vitals are all okay.” He returned the clipboard to the foot of the bed. “Let me check your incision and see how it’s looking.”

The paramedic remained silent as the doctor lifted the blanket and checked under the dressing.

“It looks good, Johnny,” Brackett smiled.

Gage’s left hand weakly went near the chest tube that was in him.

“You’ll need that a couple of more days at least.” He replaced the dressing and blanket, and patted Johnny on the right arm. “You had a lung collapse. We’ll just have to take it day by day.”

Brackett could see the man was fighting to stay awake. “Get some rest, Johnny. And try not to give the nurses too hard of a time,” he joked, smiling. The smile faded as the paramedic didn’t show any reaction to the comments. The doctor could only hope the young man would recover mentally and emotionally, as well as physically. He’d make sure Johnny had plenty of nurses looking in on him during the night, just in case anything came to surface unexpectedly. Brackett glanced one last time at his patient before leaving. Johnny’s eyes had slid shut.

~*~*~

The last thing Roy had wanted to do was leave the hospital while his best friend was still unconscious. But after what they had all been through the past couple of days, he knew he had to go home, at least for the night. His kids needed to know that their dad was okay and to spend some time with him. Roy needed to see his wife, and hear her soft voice reassuring him that everything would be okay.

Sitting on his bed, not sure he'd be able to go to sleep, Roy simply stared at the wall as his mind numbly focused on his injured partner. The sound of a ringing telephone seemed to echo in the background, but Joanne had quickly picked up the receiver. Now all he heard was the murmuring of her voice, his distraction so complete that the words she uttered meant nothing to him.

"Roy. Honey, it's Dr. Brackett."

Startled by the tone of her voice, Roy looked up to see his wife smiling at him, relief shining in her eyes. Grabbing the receiver, Roy listened carefully as Kel Brackett relayed the first good news they'd had on Johnny's condition. Although it wasn't exactly what Roy was waiting to hear, at least Johnny's physical progress was beginning to move in the right direction

~*~*~

The following day, the crew of A-shift was back on duty. No one seemed to be himself . . .their injured co-worker on everyone’s mind. Brice was back as Roy’s temporary partner, so he understood the solemn moods at the station.

Anytime the two paramedics had a chance between calls, they would stop up in ICU to check on Johnny. He was slowly gaining alertness, but was still too groggy to carry on any amount of conversation, save for a few slurred words.

When asked if he remembered what had happened, Gage’s response was a slight shake of his head. He didn’t recall the tragic accident.

~*~*~

A few days later, Roy and Captain Stanley headed up to Johnny’s room. They had each gotten a telephone call from Brackett, informing them that the dark-haired paramedic was remembering some of what had happened. Although the accident itself was still lost from his memory, he was aware there were fatalities involved and that one of them was Eddie.

Hank opened the door to the room, Roy following in behind. As they entered, the two men saw Gage propped up in the bed, staring at the wall to his right.

“Hey, pal,” Stanley began. “How are you feeling?”

Without shifting his gaze from the wall, Johnny answered quietly, “Okay.”

Roy and the captain exchanged worried glances. They both were more than aware Gage had a tendency to hold things in . . .hide his feelings. They suspected he was attempting to do just that now, and DeSoto was determined to not let him.

“Brackett says you remembered more of what happened,” Roy eyed his partner carefully, watching for a reaction. Getting none yet, he paused a moment as he considered how to best bring up the subject of the fatalities in the accident. “He says you’re aware not everyone survived.” Still no response. “It wasn’t your fault, you know. You were hurt pretty bad yourself.”

Johnny swiped the back of his left hand across his eyes, still staying focused on the wall. “You weren’t there.” His weak voice caught and he cleared his throat. “The kid was calling out . . .for help. For help . . . I didn’t give.”

Roy stepped closer, hoping he would at least get Johnny to look his way. Hank hung back, observing the interaction. When Johnny continued to look away, Roy sighed.

“Look . . . Johnny. . .it wasn’t your fault that you couldn’t help the bo--” DeSoto stopped in mid sentence. If he was going to get a reaction from his partner, he was going to have to hit a nerve. Bringing the kid’s name into the conversation and making it more personal could do just that. “You couldn’t help Eddie since you were hurt so badly yourself. You told Brackett you were pinned behind the stretcher.”

“He called out . . . for his mom, Roy. And then. . .” Johnny trailed off. He sniffed as he wiped at his eyes again. The lump in his throat from the emotion felt like it was the size of a softball.

“You were put in a bad situation. A victim of circumstance. I was going nuts not knowing where you were.” Roy glanced over his shoulder at Stanley, then returned his eyes to the bed. “We all were. But we’ve all gotta realize it was just one of those things that happened . . .that was out of everyone’s control.” He eyed the man sympathetically. “We can’t fix everything, Junior. Much as we’d like to think we can. Sometimes we’ve got to let it go.”

Johnny turned his head towards the two visitors, his red-rimmed eyes still averted. “I can’t.”

Captain Stanley decided it was his turn to speak out. “John, if there was anything you could’ve done to save one of those victims, you would have. I know that. We all do. You’d put your own life on the line if that’s what it took. Hell, you made it all the way out of the ambulance in the shape you were in and got to the biophone to call for help.” Hank forced a smile. “You did good, John.”

Roy could see they were getting through and decided to press on. “The one you should be angry at is the person who either saw or was involved in the accident in another vehicle. It took him until the morning after the accident to report it. They’re pretty sure because of that, he caused it somehow.”

Johnny looked up at Roy. “They don’t have any leads?”

“No. They’ll keep working on it, but there weren’t any other witnesses to exactly what happened.”

The men could see Johnny was growing tired from the effort of the conversation. But the younger man wanted to continue.

“The kid’s parents wanted to see me. I told Brackett no.”

“That’s okay, pal,” Hank assured. “It might be better if they don’t know what his last minutes were like.”

“I can’t tell them,” Johnny said flatly. “I may be wrong, but I can’t.”

Roy and Stanley just nodded in understanding, not sure what else to say.When a nurse came in to check on Gage, Hank and Roy decided it was time to let Johnny get some rest. The captain stepped over to the bed and laid his hand gently on the young man's shoulder.

“John, we know you did everything you could. It's time that you believe that, too."

After squeezing the paramedic's shoulder warmly, Hank let go and moved toward the door, fully aware that Gage had not responded in any way. Roy had watched the exchange intently, pleading silently for Johnny to let go of the guilt and remorse that was eating at him.

Listen to him, Johnny. He's right. You can't go on blaming yourself for something you had no control over. It's time to let it go . . .

Several minutes later, as the two men waited for the elevator, Roy looked at Hank.

“You think we helped him much?”

“Well, it was a start. You know Brackett won’t let him back on duty till he’s okay with this. . .as much as he can be. I know John’s accepted the driver’s death. . .everyone knows there was no chance for that guy.” Stanley sighed. “I hope he accepts the therapy the hospital offered him.”

The elevator doors opened and the men stepped in. “He won’t.” Roy said matter-of -factly. “But I think he’ll work it out in his own way.”

Hank nodded. No one knew John better than Roy. He had to believe the senior paramedic was right.

~*~*~

Weeks later Johnny was back on the job. The paramedic had worked through his depression in the time he recovered at home and was cleared for duty by Kel Brackett. Now with the men of A-shift back together on duty, things seemed to be returning to normal. As they got into their uniforms, Chet decided to liven up the locker room.

“Hey, Gage, how’re things with Sherry?”

Roy froze in place, remembering the problem he and Johnny had prior to the accident.

Gage gave Kelly a smile. “As a matter of fact, things are going well. And thank you, I almost forgot.” He turned to face the still as a statue DeSoto. “I can’t remember what our exact problem was before the accident, but I know we were having one. If it had to do with Sherry, I’m sorry.”

Roy was relieved that things were okay and resumed buttoning his shirt. “Actually, I should be the one apologizing. So, I’m sorry.”

Chet looked in disbelief at what he had started. He shut his locker and walked towards the swinging door, shaking his head and mumbling.

“Actually, I should be the one who’s sorry . . . what kind of fun is this? I think we were better off with Brice here. . .” Chet’s voice trailed off as he left the room.

Gage and DeSoto exchanged amused glances. They hadn’t let Chet know that the two of them had resolved the issue between them while Johnny was still off duty, recovering. Their friendship had weathered a lot more serious issues in recent weeks than to let silly things comes between them as instigated by one Chester B. Kelly.