We are Not Afraid

Robin Weinrich

He shook his leg hard and rubbed his thigh, trying to get rid of the cramp. It was a restless evening full of nagging bugs and cool temperatures. He massaged the muscles and rotated his neck working out the kinks. The fog had blanketed the area and the driving rains from last night had soaked right through him. He looked at his arm wrapped in the makeshift bandage, which was still wet. He was covered with soot and grime which didn’t help the scathing burns under the bandage. He rose on unsteady feet and swayed waiting for the dizziness to go away. He sighed, careful not to wake anyone up. They needed to rest as much as they could. Their untimely arrival had been fraught with panic, fear and flames. It had seemed a lifetime ago. . .

“Gentlemen, this year, the four of us will go. Headquarters decided this was a good investment and from last year’s successful trial events,” he looked directly at Stoker and Lopez, “it will now become an annual event,” Cap announced.

“You mean the rest of us are going to eat bugs and live under bushes?” groused Chet.

“Kelly, I don’t want to hear any complaints. That’s an order.” It wasn’t often that Cap had to pull rank, but he was determined to make this a memorable learning experience. “Besides, bugs are good protein, ya twit!”

The Department had participated in a rather innovative team-building event that had started with the Seattle Fire Department last year. LA County and City sent several of their own, including Marco and Mike. It was dubbed the “Island Firefighter Survival” and was designed to train for the many emergencies they were expected to respond to and resolve with professional results. By "stranding" firefighters on an island with little in the way of survival equipment, it was expected that each firefighter would experience real hardships that would put to the test their ability to work together in real-life, extreme conditions. Officers and Firefighters alike lose their rank and are forced to solve problems together, such as building a shelter and foraging for food and water under stressful conditions. All this and more must be accomplished while still trying to keep their fire department “family” attitude. Marco and Mike did indeed survive and they highly recommended the experience. Besides loosing weight and adding two layers of grime and dirt, they emerged with a stronger bond of unity with their team and a better appreciation for the comforts of their normal lives.

Johnny looked over at Roy, imagining his partner eating bugs. He chuckled.

“Gage? Care to share?” Cap responded.

“Uh, no...er...I mean, sorry, Cap,” Johnny sheepishly apologized.

“Okay, then, here are the details,” Cap continued as he handed out envelopes. “Headquarters will make up the new assignments while we’re gone. Any questions?”

“When do you leave, Cap?” inquired Marco.

“Next week. Let’s get to work, men.”

“So, what do you think, Roy?” Johnny’s enthusiasm swelled. Roy stepped around the squad opening the compartments for the morning check.

“I think that you’re looking forward to this.”

“Of course I am. What a great opportunity to be challenged, huh? Better than sitting in some classroom!” Johnny pulled out the biophone. Roy looked at this partner and smiled. Johnny loved the outdoors and this challenge did sound interesting. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad eating a few bugs.

* * * * * * *

The sun began peering through the tall trees. Its rays burned through the blanket of foggy thickness, causing an eerie display of light. The images of yesterday filtered through his memory and his head began to ache. He moved cautiously still feeling the effects of his leg cramp. The others continued to sleep so he decided to look for water. He knew that drinking water would be essential for their survival and he had to find some soon, despite the fact that they were surrounded by an ocean. Unfortunately, that didn’t help. There was no way to distill the salt out of the plentiful sea. He made his way along the sandy path into the forest and found where the right wing had ended up. The large identification numbers of the downed seaplane were charred. Johnny rubbed his head in frustration...

He looked away giving Roy and Joanne a private moment. Each was allowed to bring only one backpack filled with the items listed in their instruction packet. It wasn’t much and Johnny wondered what other items they would have on the island. Although he was comfortable with his camping and hiking skills, he wasn’t sure what to expect from this endeavor. But, he had to admit that he was intrigued and looking forward to the experience. Even Roy was enthusiastic despite being away from his family.

“I know this sounds trite, but please be careful! I love you, you know!”

“I know, Joanne. That’s why I’ll be careful. Okay?” Roy hugged her again. “Besides, there’ll be a standby crew from the US Coast Guard for any emergency. They have it worked out pretty well.”

“I know,” Joanne smiled. She looked up at Roy and grinned again. “And let’s not forget that you have your partner along for protection!” She was teasing Johnny now to help alleviate her nervousness.

Johnny took that as his cue. “Yep, that’s right, Roy. Nothing to fear when I’m around, huh, partner?”

Roy rolled his eyes and shifted his backpack. “Uh, should we count how many times I’ve had to pull you out of a burning building, or a falling building, or...”

“Hey, hey, now. I could do the same, ya know.”

“Yeah, well, who has the ‘permanent room assignment’ at Rampart?” Roy grinned.

“Come on, let’s go . . geez, give a guy a break.” Johnny hugged Joanne and tugged his partner along.

“Okay, guys, come back in one piece,” Joanne said as they retreated to board the fourth seaplane. The other firefighters filled the other three planes and the motors were running.

“We’ll see you next week!” Roy called back.

The doors slid shut and family members left behind began waving good-byes to their departing firemen. Johnny looked out over the tarmac and settled into his seat, strapping on his seat belt. Cap and Chet were already settled in and their pilot was busy listening for his cue to head down the runway. The trip up the coast wouldn’t be long and from the looks of the clear skies, Johnny figured that it would be a great scenic ride. He sighed with contentment.

* * * * * * *

“Oh, man, who hit me with that Mac truck?” Chet groaned as he felt the pressure of something wrapped around his chest. He tried to move quickly, but that proved painful and it took his breath away. He tried to slap away the large mosquito hovering over his face and sat up more slowly this time. The ground was sandy and moist, with pebbles and rocks everywhere. Every muscle protested his attempts to sit. Finally he was upright and he looked around, squinting as the rising sun gleamed over the water.

“Oh, no,” he sighed. Then the memories coursed through his addled awareness. The rain, the birds, the frantic mayday calls from the pilot and then nothing. Now everything seemed surreal to him as he focused on his surroundings. But the ache in his ribs reminded him this was reality. He looked to his right and noticed Roy stirring.

“Roy?”

“Uh...um... “ Roy was trying to find his voice. “...where?”

“Roy? Wake up, man. Roy?” Chet tried again.

“Chet?” Roy shoved his hair from his eyes and proceeded to sit up. He felt the ache of sleeping on something hard. “Chet? Where are we?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure it’s not where we’re supposed to be. Is Cap all right?” he asked as he glanced past Roy toward the still sleeping man.

“Let me see. Where’s Johnny? The pilot? Do you remember anything?” Roy questioned.

“All I remember is the sound of something going horribly wrong with our plane!”

Roy shifted over toward Cap and felt for a pulse. It was strong and steady. That was good news. He moved his hand over the gash on Cap’s forehead and frowned. That was sure to cause at least a mild concussion. He gently shook Cap’s shoulder.

“Cap? Can you hear me? Hank?” Roy persisted.

“Is he okay?” Chet asked.

“Yeah, I think so. He’s got a nasty cut and a probably a concussion, but everything else looks good. How ‘bout you?” Roy almost forgot to ask.

“I’m fine. Looks like someone already wrapped me up--I think I’ve cracked a rib or two. No big deal.”

“Where’s Johnny? I bet he did it.” Roy hoped his partner wasn’t too far. He had already felt pretty confident that he was alive, since they were all together here and because of the care already given to Chet. Roy directed his attention back to Hank.

“Cap? Come on, time to get up. Can you hear me?”

The man groggily raised his hand slowly to his brow and moaned. “Huh?”

“Cap, wake up,” insisted Roy.

“...’kay...okay...turn out that light, would ya?” he rasped, shielding his eyes from the mid-morning sun.

“Sorry, Cap, can’t do that. Mother Nature has the light switch.”

“Huh? What?” Cap tried to sit, but Roy gently held him back.

“Look, Cap, you’ve got a pretty big gash--let me see what I can do, okay? Just lay still.”

“Okay,” Cap agreed. He sighed as he kept his arm over his eyes, blocking out the offending light. Roy glanced away, reminded of Johnny’s favorite sleeping position. Where are you, Johnny? He looked back into the forest, hoping to catch a glimpse of his partner. Instead, he saw what was left of the burned fuselage twisted among the oaks and ferns of the forest. He closed his eyes as he remembered the large thud...

“Hang on, men, we’ve just been hit by a flock of birds!” yelled the pilot above the distorted sounds of a dying engine and broken propellers.

The four firemen held tight to their seats as the plane started bucking. The rain had been steady for the last hour and the fog over the Puget Sound was thick. Roy watched as the pilot attempted to keep his heading based on the instrumentation.

“Mayday, mayday, this is four, six, seven, niner. We’ve been hit and are going down. Mayday, mayday, Lake Union tower, this is four, six, seven, niner. Copy?” the pilot continued.

Trying to remain calm, Roy sought his partner’s eyes.

Johnny looked back at him and grinned grimly. “Guess this is where we start our survival training, huh?”

Roy gave a quick nod. “Guess so,” was all he could muster.

“Men, we’re going to have to assume crash positions. We’re going down and I don’t know where!” instructed the pilot.

They had already donned life jackets and each of them checked their straps. Smoke started seeping into the small cabin and the downward incline increased significantly as the engine burst into flame.

Roy closed his eyes and tried to stop shaking. He said a silent prayer for his family and friends and held on tight as the plane careened into the small island underneath it, sending smoke and debris in its trail.

* * * * * * *

He couldn’t remember what he was looking for. He had stopped to rest his achy leg which was still cramping. Somehow, he had also dozed off. Apparently, he was still exhausted after pulling everyone away from the wreckage. It was all a blur, but he remembered the panic coursing through his veins, pumping him with adrenaline. He ran his hand down the charred surface of the wing part he had come across. He licked his lips. Water, that’s it. We need water. Maybe there’s some in the fuselage...I should get back... he thought as he clamored back to his feet. His legs felt weak, but he was able to stand.

He headed back toward the beach following the vertical position of the sun. Birds called to each other among the forest trees and various rodents scampered about in the fauna. He could tell the fog was lifting as he noticed the high banks dropping off to patches of flowers. Rocks and boulders lined the path he was currently on. The scenery around him was incredible, but he had to focus on his goal. There had to be water close by. He gasped as new pain surrounded his burned arm. He resisted moving the bandage and tried to ignore the continued moisture surrounding the wrapping. His paramedic knowledge kept him aware of the fact that the fluid loss was a result from his damaged skin. Anyway, he would rather endure the pain as to the alternative had he not reached into the flames . . .

“Roy! Come on, wake up! Roy!” he desperately pulled at his partner’s belt, trying to get it undone. He was exhausted and had been running on his last reserve to get his friends out of the downed seaplane. The flames were close and Roy was the last one he had to drag out.

“Damn it, open up!” he yelled at the buckle securing the belt around Roy. Roy had been unconscious and was dead weight. With one more Herculean effort, Johnny managed to loosen the belt from the hinge of the seat. Flames licked the back seat and danced on Johnny’s arm.

“AWWWW . . .no!!!!!!!!!” he screamed in agony from the burst of flame on his unprotected skin. Resolved to beat back the incessant ranting of defeat he reached in again and dragged his partner from the final hold of the seat. The pain in Johnny’s arm caused him to loose his grip on Roy and they both fell backwards into the wet floor of the forest. The fire continued to grow. Johnny scrambled up off the ground and put Roy over his shoulders.

He laid Roy gently down next to the unconscious forms of Chet and Cap. He glanced back at the seaplane and could only make out one of the large skids from beneath the flames that now enveloped the plane. There was no way he could make it back for supplies. The pilot had died on impact as the engine had ripped into the cockpit. Johnny shook his head and with a shaky hand rubbed the soot from his eyes. He looked at the nightmarish sight before him and he dropped to the ground, thankful for the ability to function as he had. He crawled over to Roy and checked his pulse once again. Satisfied that they had made it this far, Johnny finally let go and the tears came freely.

* * * * * * *

“I think staying by the water is going to be our best bet for being spotted,” Roy explained to Chet as they gathered branches to build a shelter with.

“Yeah, you’re right. Surely they’ll be looking for us by now,” Chet said, trying to reassure himself.

“They will. They’ve got the Coast Guard on standby for this event anyway.” Roy looked around for large branches they could drag. With his hands full they lifted the branches back to where Cap still lay. Roy had insisted that he stay put, especially since he had complained of double vision along with his headache.

Chet began fashioning a canopy with the newly added branches. Using strands of twine and singed wire he found among the wreckage, he tied them into a crisscross pattern. Roy hunched down to check on Cap once again.

“How you doing?” Roy asked quietly, taking Cap’s pulse.

“Better, I think. Thirsty.”

“Yeah. I’m hoping that Johnny’s doing something about that right now,” Roy answered, looking again toward the forest. As he began to turn away, he glanced back. He couldn’t believe it. There was his missing partner walking out of the thick patch of trees. Roy’s sense of reality wavered for a moment.

“JOHNNY!” he yelled, waving his arms, hoping it was really him.

Johnny waved back, glad to see Roy and Chet moving about. He quickened his pace despite his achy leg and joined them.

“Man, am I glad to see you up and around!” He clasped Roy’s shoulder, grinning through his soot-covered face.

“Where have you been, Gage?” piped in Chet, obviously pleased to see him, too.

“Glad to see your disposition survived the impact, Chet!” responded a tired Johnny. He grinned, letting Chet know that all was well.

“John...?” Cap rasped. Johnny bent down and looked at the captain.

“Hey, Cap, how are you doing?”

“Besides looking at two of you, I’m doing okay,” Cap gave him a small smile. “Water?”

“Well, that’s the problem, huh? I couldn’t see anything, so I thought I’d rummage through the wreckage and see if anything survived we can use. Now that it’s light out,” Johnny explained.

“Are you okay?” Roy asked, noticing Johnny’s wrapped arm.

“Yeah, just got burned a little,” Johnny said, ignoring Roy’s stare. He wanted to find water and not talk about last night.

“I’ll finish this up,” Chet volunteered. “We’re gonna need it tonight.”

“Okay, Chet. Roy?” Johnny headed back toward the wreckage and began looking for anything with water that had survived the crash.

“So, have you seen any signs of rescue?” Johnny asked, already knowing the answer.

“Nothing. But, they’ll be looking.”

“I wonder how far off course we were...“

“Johnny, let’s not. We’ve got to stay hopeful.”

“You’re right. Just tired.”

“Did you...um...how did you get us out of there?” Roy asked.

“It was no big deal. I was the only one conscious, so I just dragged you all out of there.” Johnny tried to avoid Roy’s gaze.

“Well, I think it was. Thank you,” Roy said simply.

Johnny smiled. “You’re welcome. Besides, remember we told Joanne we’d be fine. Couldn’t let her down, you know.”

“Yeah,” Roy became quieter at the mention of his wife’s name.

“Hey, we’re gonna get out of here. Right? We’re staying hopeful...a good friend of mine told me that just recently!”

“Yep, he was right,” Roy smiled.

They rummaged through the debris laying scattered among the sand and branches of the forest line. Since they weren’t allowed much to begin with, their hopes diminished as they discovered very little left. Pieces of a clear tarp, fish hooks, some rope, a flashlight with a broken glass cover, a toothbrush, one pot, a small shovel, and pieces of the first aid kit were all they could gather. They carried their stash toward Chet’s makeshift hut. Johnny noticed a white cap sticking up from the ground and quickly dropped his stuff, pushing away the pebbles and leaves.

“Roy!” he called out as his pulled the bottle out. “WATER!”

Roy ran back up to where Johnny was and helped him pick up the rest of his stuff. “Hey, at least it’s something!”

They both grinned looking at their find. It was a 2 liter bottle of water that had survived the crash. It was as good as gold as both paramedics knew that dehydration would set in soon.

Johnny opened the bottle. “Here, Cap, you’re first.”

“I guess rank does count for something, huh?” he rasped.

“Just a little at a time. We’ve got to conserve this,” Roy reminded everyone.

Cap took a small amount, then Chet. Roy and Johnny were next and then Johnny carefully screwed on the cap. They all rested at that point, under the bushy canopy Chet constructed. The afternoon sun continued to highlight the beauty surrounding them, however, none of them looked very far. Roy kept vigil over Cap; monitoring his condition with the obvious head injury. Chet moved slowly from a light nap and picked up the shovel, intent on finding a way to start a fire. Johnny had fallen asleep quickly, his injured arm settled on his stomach.

They all had names. That was actually the worst part whenever he had to write up the log sheet. Their names. This child would never be known again. Well, in this case, all three would never be known for their adult acheivements--they never made it. The mother had put up those bars across the windows to protect her children. But, she never knew the ultimate danger when the fire broke out. It spread quickly. The smoke polluted the small home leaving little time to get everyone out. She had run back into the house after pulling away from the officer. He had just finished securing his SCBA and placing his helmet back on when the mother ran. She screamed when the flames sprouted from the front door. Then she was gone. He gasped as he tried to grab her but all he got was smoke and flames. His partner pulled him from the door as the blast washed over them sending glass, wood, and debris in all directions. He hit the ground hard and waited for the crew hauling hose to reach them. From that moment he was locked in his professional mode and wouldn’t allow the ghastly images of these victims deter him from his job. It was his work; it was his duty to finish the details. Later that evening, sleep never came over him. Sometimes it was like that. Then, when you least expected it, those images would creep up and taunt you and then you would have to let down those walls. It was the only way to truly absorb the total impact of that event. Their names danced a waltz filled with tears and cries of anguish. Their faces were covered with ash and burns, melting in front of him. He tried to close his eyes and block out the tendrils of guilt, doubt and shame. They whispered and whimpered. Their small hands reached for him. The mother shrieked with fear, begging for his help. Their names blazoned again in the color of blood and he begin to tremble, trying to remember how to get out of the burning house. He drew in another deep breath from his breathing apparatus and dived through the window.

Somehow, he had landed on a boulder covered with sand, moss and pebbles. He rapidly squeezed his eyes shut, causing the tears to stream rapidly down his face. He opened them again, gasping for the fresh air that now assaulted his senses. Where am I? What’s going on? He rolled to his right and grunted when he realized that he wasn’t in the house anymore. He really was on a pebble beach, lying on a hard rock with branches waving over him. Man, I must’ve been dreaming. He shuddered, still feeling the impact of the nightmare that had gripped him. Sweat on his brow, sand in his hair, his burned arm, and the dryness in his mouth reminded him of his current situation.

“Johnny?” Roy quietly called to his struggling partner. He noticed the panic and emotion that was currently displayed on Johnny’s face. He reached over for him.

“Huh? Oh, man...“ Johnny exhaled as he began to sit up. “What a nap...“

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Just didn’t sleep too good.”

Roy accepted that for now from Johnny, but noted that his partner still looked exhausted and haunted.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Naw, it’s okay.”

“It might help. Plus, looks like we’ve got plenty of time,” Roy reminded him.

Johnny rubbed his dirty hand through his hair, feeling the grime dig deeper into his scalp. He sighed.

“You remember a couple weeks ago, that woman and her children?” Johnny cautiously looked at Roy, knowing that he was also wrestling with that outcome.

“Yeah,” Roy responded quietly.

“I just got to relive it again, that’s all.”

Roy remained silent. Sometimes, that was all that was needed in these moments. Each of them dealt with the stress of their job differently. Roy would tend to deal with it piece by piece by reminding himself of his own family and his blessings. It would be the small things like when Chris would actually share something with Jennifer or when Joanne would bring him breakfast in bed just because she wanted to. Roy held those moments close in his heart. Then when the worst tragedy faced him, he clung to those moments for dear life. Johnny didn’t have that recourse, so he tended to internalize the events more dramatically. He would contemplate them loudly and then his anger or frustration would finally lead to an outburst of the grieving emotions. He would dribble the basketball endlessly into the night until the exhaustion finally won out. But mostly, he would finally let Roy in and help him rediscover his passion for his job.

Roy looked at Johnny and watched for a sign from his distressed partner. Johnny’s head was cast down, his eyes shut, his jaw clenched. He rubbed his hands together and raised his head, glancing back at Roy. He gave him a tired grin.

“I’m really tired. I guess that’s it.” Johnny shrugged. Roy knew that was the end of this conversation for now. Their friendship was at the point where it didn’t take many words to communicate understanding. A distant shout interrupted the moment.

“Got it!” exclaimed Chet. He forgot about his ribs and jumped quickly. “Aww, man, that hurt!”

Roy ran over to him, “You okay?” Johnny was right behind him.

Chet took a deep breath and exhaled. “Whew, yeah, I’m okay. Sorry about that. Look!” He pointed with a little less enthusiasm at the small fire he built.

“Good job, Chet. You’ve finally come full circle as a fireman, you know?” Roy grinned.

“Gee, thanks, Roy. I appreciate the support!” Chet feigned a hurt expression, but was glad to have the lighter moment. He looked at Johnny, surprised to see him looking so haggard. “And don’t say a word, Gage. I’m not the in mood!”

“Take it easy, Chet. I’m just amazed at your many talents!”

Roy decided to intervene. “So, any ideas about food?”

“Well, I saw some fish hooks and a rope in that pile. Let me try to rig something like my granddad used to do,” volunteered Chet. He picked up the pieces and begin working on his idea.

Roy turned to Johnny. “I think I’ll go get our salad, huh?” Roy stated.

“Well, take it easy on the salad dressing, okay?” Johnny said with a smile. He stretched and yawned watching Chet’s fire.

“Why don’t you stay here and listen for Cap. I won’t be long,” said Roy. “Oh, and after dinner, you have an appointment with your local paramedic. I want to check out your arm.”

Johnny glanced at the ripped fabric he had hastily wrapped around his arm, shrugging once again.

“No problem.”

Roy set out to the patch of flowers and fauna they had passed earlier in the day. He picked leaves and what delicate flowers he could recognize. He found a wild blackberry bush thicket deep in the ferns and started pulling the berries into the pot he had carried with him. He noticed the temperatures were dropping as the sun settled behind one of the high banks on the island. The nighttime chorus of animals and birds filled the air. He walked back to the site and grinned as he noticed the steady burning of Chet’s fire. That would be welcome relief for their evening. His grin widened when he saw Cap sitting next to Chet and Johnny at the fire.

“Cap?” Roy queried.

“Hey, Roy,” Cap responded weakly.

“So, how many of me are there?”

“Not enough to get us off this island, right?”

“Okay, good enough for me. How are you feeling, really?”

“A little lightheaded, but the ache is much better. And, I can see straight. Thanks,” Cap hunched closer to the fire. “What about dinner, huh?”

Roy displayed his collection of young leaves, flowers and berries. Each of them took several pieces and began munching.

“I feel like a rabbit,” Chet mused.

“Well, Chet, with that mustache and those teeth, you look more like a beaver,” Johnny quipped.

“Ha, ha, Gage. Don’t you know that pigeons eat worms, not leaves?”

“Uh, gentlemen, could we table this discussion?” Cap inquired. “I’d rather not think about worms right now.”

“Speaking of worms, maybe we can find some tonight and then I can try out this hook in the morning for some fish,” Chet suggested.

Roy finished his last blackberry and licked his fingers. “Good idea, Chet.”

Each man remained silent for a few minutes, watching the flickering flames tease the beetles that flew around the light. Johnny stared without blinking, remembering the flames that snaked through the wreckage of the plane. His arm tingled with new pain and he blinked, struggling to stifle the outburst of agony that threatened to escape his lips.

He whispered, “I sure hope they find us soon.”

Cap looked at his younger paramedic, feeling the weight of leadership settle on his weak shoulders. Despite his own condition, he had to exercise some degree of comfort, acknowledging that Johnny had actually saved them within the past twenty-four hours.

“I think they’re gonna find us soon,” he stated. “I know that they’ve probably got the search planes flying during the day.”

“I know the US Coast Guard was supposed to be on standby,” Roy added.

“Yeah, but there are so many of these remote islands,” Chet lamented. “I guess we’ll just have to keep out here in the open, huh?”

“It might be a few more days, right?” Johnny questioned.

Cap tried to figure out Johnny’s mood. “I guess it could.”

“We’re gonna have to be really resourceful. We can’t loose this water,” said Johnny, pointing at the half-empty bottle. “We’ll have to conserve our energy.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Roy agreed.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Johnny whispered, as though he was trying to convince himself more than anyone. He was feeling the effects of the lack of adrenaline that kept him going last night. His energy level was low and the cool air was wrapping around him. He shivered, remnants of the initial panic setting in from the crash.

“Yeah, John, we’re gonna be okay.” It was Cap’s turn to be reassuring. They each continued to watch the flickering fire. Johnny shivered again, reawakening the pain of his burn. He clenched his jaw, determined to endure past his discomfort.

“Let’s call it a night, huh? I think we’re going to need to huddle together to keep warm,” Roy instructed.

“Sounds good,” agreed Cap.

“Cap, we should keep this fire going, don’t you think?” Chet asked.

“I guess so. Look, I’m still feeling pretty good, so why don’t you three get some shuteye and I’ll keep the fire stoked.”

“You sure, Cap?” Johnny asked, not convinced that Cap was as steady as he was leading them to believe.

“Yes. I’ll holler at one of you for relief. Promise.”

They nodded and found positions under the canopy using the few pieces of clothing found in Roy’s backpack to cover their exposed hands and necks from the cool weather. Roy had given Cap his last sweatshirt to keep him warm while guarding the flames. It was an odd scene to Roy as he watched his Captain poke a stick into the burning wood, fanning the flames of the very beast they sought to destroy on each call. Roy wearily laid down next to Johnny. Johnny had already put his left arm over his eyes and was breathing deeply. He had wanted to check the arm but was once again distracted. Now that Johnny was resting, he didn’t want to wake him, especially since his latest nightmare this afternoon. Roy sighed and closed his eyes, wondering what kind of birds had met their doom with their downed seaplane.

* * * * * * * *

His fingers burned. Flesh begin melting away from the bone and he tried to scream, but nothing happened. His boots were glued to the floor and he couldn’t pull his legs out. He looked at this hands again watching in horror as the flames peeled away another layer of skin and exposed his bones to the hungry fire. The stench of the burned flesh and heated blood caused him to gag and he furiously spat out the bile rising in his throat. He coughed and exhaled smoke. His hands were now nubs of charred bone. He screamed again and tried to throw himself to the ground, but some cruel force held him firm and forced him to continue to watch himself burn.

“...hot...gotta...get...” He coughed and choked on unshed tears caught in between his throat and his latest nightmare. He panted and cried out, this time, hearing his own strangled voice struggle out into the night air. “...no...!”

“Johnny?” Cap was already there while Roy and Chet sat up intent on helping their beleaguered friend.

Roy quickly grabbed his t-shirt and ran to the bank of the shore and dipped it into the cold water. What’s going on, Johnny? Something was gripping his partner and he didn’t know what needed to be done. He ran back to the canopy with the dripping shirt and laid it over Johnny’s brow.

Johnny flinched when the cold water trickled down his hairline. “Aw, man...that’s...that’s cold,” he mumbled.

“Shh, just leave it there and you relax,” Roy admonished. Cap and Chet gave Roy some room to check Johnny’s vitals. “Better?” he asked as he took Johnny’s pulse.

“I g...g...guess so,” Johnny was shivering from the emotion of his latest nightmare and the cold cloth on his head.

“You’re a little warm.”

“N...n...ooo, ‘m not.”

“Roy, what can we do?” Cap asked.

“I don’t think anything right now, Cap. He’s just having a tough time with sleep.”

“...c...c...an’t s...s...shake...it,” Johnny confessed.

“What’s bothering you?” Chet asked softly, his eyes darting between Johnny and Roy, wondering.

“I bet it was the crash. Remember, he pretty much single-handedly pulled us from that wreckage. He’s exhausted.”

Roy’s words permeated through Johnny’s muddled collection of nightmarish images. It was as if the culmination of the worst rescues these past few months flooded his unconscious mind. Sleep eluded him because there was no room for peace since the crash. All he felt now was the overpowering sense of abandonment and fear.

“His hands,” Johnny spoke clearer.

“His hands?” Roy encouraged his partner to keep talking.

“Chad. They had to amputate his hands,” Johnny said tonelessly.

“Chad Jett, from Station 137, up in the hills. After that wildfire. Remember?” Cap started. “He had left his gloves behind. When his crew got entrenched on one of the fire fronts, they had to use their shelters. Only, he didn’t have his gloves and his hands burned.”

“I remember,” Chet added. “Didn’t he end up running? His shelter didn’t open.”

“Yeah, he ran,” Johnny added. “He was afraid.” Johnny was sitting now, his arms wrapped around him, chilled with the water from the t-shirt and the cool temperatures.

“His team died, didn’t they?” Roy asked.

“Yeah,” Cap continued. “They didn’t make it, but Chad did.” They were silent contemplating the scene that the described fireman had endured. It was common knowledge that once caught in a wildfire zone, the shelters were a last resort if you were trapped.

“I can’t imagine it.” Chet whispered.

“He’s no longer with the department. He’s got a lot to deal with,” Cap said quietly.

“He was afraid,” Johnny repeated, staring off into the night sky.

“But that fear saved his life,” Roy said.

“Yeah, and his team died.” Johnny inhaled deeply. He looked at Roy with weary eyes. “Are we afraid?”

Roy was confused by Johnny’s comment. “Should we be?”

“I...think...I’m...“ Johnny sighed. “I’m tired, Roy.”

Roy knew that Johnny was struggling to stay coherent and stable in their current ordeal. He patted his partner’s shoulder and noticed Johnny gasp in pain.

“Let me see that arm.”

“Please, don’t Roy. I don’t think we should mess with it.”

Roy looked closer at the wrappings with the broken flashlight. The beam was a pinpoint since the glass cover had shattered, but it was enough for Roy to notice the swelling and the moisture the wrap covered. He was afraid that the skin had blistered and was now raw. But, he also knew that meant the fabric was pretty well fused to the burned skin. He was frustrated that he had no way to treat the burn for his friend, nor a way to ease the pain.

“How bad is it, really?” Roy insisted on knowing.

Cap and Chet moved away, sensing the need to let Roy work with Johnny’s demeanor. They mulled about the fire, keeping the embers burning. Roy noticed that the sky was turning dusky, indicating morning was on its way. Again.

“Johnny, the arm?”

“Look, Roy, it’s probably 2nd degree burns, okay?” Johnny sighed facing his partner, hoping he wouldn’t go further.

“What happened?” Roy wouldn’t stop.

“Come on, let it go. I did what had to be done. Everyone’s alive and that’s all that matters,” Johnny hesitated. "Well, almost everyone."

Roy had an idea what was bothering his friend. "You know there was nothing you could have done for the pilot, don't you?"

"I said, let it go. I'm bushed," Johnny turned away from Roy, indicating that this conversation was over.

Roy didn’t want to push Johnny any further, but he suspected enough already to know that Johnny was shielding him from guilt. He knows me so well. Things were not going well inside Johnny’s head since the crash, and he certainly didn’t want to make it worse. They needed to get out of here and get out soon. Everyone was going to need attention before long and without water, things would get complicated. This was not the survival endeavor he had wanted to experience.

Everyone settled down again in various positions, confident that the dawning morning light would bring new hope for rescue. It was a small comfort, but one they latched onto. Johnny worked hard to keep from falling asleep. He had had enough of the images dancing in his brain these past two days and now he just wanted it to end. As he shifted to his side he watched an otter scoot past their site and slip into the water. That gave him an idea.

He got up and on unsteady legs, walked to the edge of the bank. Watching the otter glide through the crooks of the boulders was engaging and for the moment, he forgot he was stranded on some remote island in the Puget Sound. The otter squealed with satisfaction as it pulled up an oyster from the boulder and began pounding it open with its paws. Johnny grinned.

“Roy? Cap? Chet?” he called to his companions, hoping not to scare away the helpful otter.

The men were dozing lightly and slowly awoke with Johnny’s call. Chet scratched his nose and yawned, trying to shake the stiffness from his aching ribs. Cap ambled over to Johnny and put his hand on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Cap asked.

“Look . . ya see that otter?” Johnny pointed out the wet animal enjoying his breakfast feast of oysters.

“Yeah, yeah, I see it. Oysters, huh?”

Roy joined them with Chet right behind him. They all watched the otter who now seemed to enjoy the audience. The otter dipped back under the boulder and promptly came back with two more oyster shells. It floated lazily on its back and went about the task of cracking open the shells for the precious meat inside.

“I got an idea,” Roy said. He found the small pot and grabbed the shovel. “How about we get a few for ourselves?”

Johnny grinned, hopeful for something to eat. Cap and Chet agreed with Roy and they proceeded to the boulder closest to the bank.

“Okay, that looks pretty slippery,” Cap noted. “Let’s make a hand and foot hold, okay? We’re not at our best and I don’t want anything happening.”

Roy was selected to pan for the oysters under the boulders. Cap let him edge out to the bank while he grabbed his ankles. Then Chet grabbed Cap’s ankles, careful to lay on his good side. Since Johnny’s arm was out of commission he tied their only remaining t-shirt into a knotted piece of rope, tying it around his leg and tying it around Chet’s ankle. He then anchored himself as best as he could behind a rotted tree stump by the bank.

“Okay, Roy, I’m ready!” Johnny yelled out.

Roy carefully slid into the water reaching under the boulder. He shivered as the icy water lapped over him. Cap grunted while he held fast to Roy. Chet concentrated on his own handhold and didn’t notice the beads of sweat running down Johnny’s face. Johnny felt that old cramp in his leg from a few days ago and groaned as it clamped down hard on his calf muscle. He knew that he could only hold on so long.

“ROY! Hurry up! Man, I don’t know how much longer I can do this!”

Roy finished scraping the boulder and waved his pot in the air. “Got some! Okay, Cap, here you go,” Roy announced, putting the pot on the bank so he could use his hands to hoist himself up. Just as he was about to place his hands on the soft edge, Johnny let out a loud yelp. “Damn!”

The momentum of Johnny loosing his handhold on the stump sent them all tumbling down the edge. Roy went under and quickly rose back to the water surface. Cap and Chet had managed to break their fall by getting tangled with each other. Johnny landed on the edge of the bank with his right side in the water.

Cap went into his natural mode of leadership. “Everyone okay? Roy?” He asked as he tried to grab for his very wet senior paramedic. Roy clamored over the boulder and grabbed Cap’s proffered hand.

“Aww, man,” Johnny groused, pulling himself to a sitting position. “That water is cold!”

“Gage, I oughta . . .geez . . you . .” sputtered Chet as he clutched his ribs. “ . .you’re a disaster magnet, you know that?” Chet was mad with his pain and frustrated with their situation and he just targeted Johnny for his point of anger. “Damn it!”

“Look, Chet,” Johnny tried to reason with his upset colleague. “I tried to warn you guys. Roy? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Johnny, I’m okay,” Roy responded. He stood there dripping and surveyed the oysters that had been scattered among the boulders from their fall. “I’m gonna try to capture these oysters.”

“Okay, guys, let’s help out,” suggested Cap.

Johnny rubbed his leg, hoping to work out the pesky cramp. His heart had skipped many beats as everyone took the tumble. He fought the urge to cry out against the elements and their situation. He had to clamp down the ever-present raw fear that had gripped him since the crash. He had to keep calm and cool, for his sake and for his sanity. He was determined not to become a burden to the rest of the group.

* * * * * * *

Roy rubbed his hands hoping to feel warmth again. He was mostly dry now, but the chill had settled into his bones, leaving him unsteady. They had feasted on the fresh oysters and various leaves for their breakfast. He looked over at his partner who had sequestered himself from the group under the pretense of sleep. He had hunkered down under the shelter and curled up, effectively shutting out the world. Roy had been concerned about Johnny’s mental state and he watched for any signs of further distress from his friend. He looked up at the collection of clouds that had gathered and tried to find any sign of an airplane or chopper. Nothing.

They had agreed to have one man at a time stay on lookout duty in case a plane did fly by. A large piece of the seaplane’s wing had been dragged out of the forest so they could wave it or leave it on display on the ground. It had a few of the numbers that were painted on the wing for identification purposes. However, nothing happened.

Chet had taken a walk. Roy was glad that he decided to break away for a while, too. The tension was building and with little water, little food and very little in the comfort department, the men were at their raw ends of their nerves. Cap was also resting under their branch shelter. Roy remained at the fire as lookout and began pacing around the site. He wasn’t sure how they would endure another day on this remote island. Hope dwindled as the last rays of sunshine disappeared behind large black clouds.

* * * * * * *

It was bigger than anything he had ever seen. The large spotlights mercilessly glared at him as it rolled closer to him. Someone had called in the response and he didn’t know where he was. But he recognized the chrome plate of the engine as it roared over him. He screamed, wondering why it didn’t stop and put out the fire that was consuming his arm. The color of red dripped from its hose-beds and the pressure gauges danced with electricity.

A clap of thunder jolted him as he glared at the giant engine. Its windows were tinted and he couldn’t see inside. “Cap?” he wondered, trying to figure out what was happening. The siren blared and the rotating lights made him dizzy. He stepped back, hoping to give the larger-than-life engine room to negotiate its entrance. The fire had not advanced, nor had it retreated from his arm, which he thought was odd. As he concentrated on the bizarre scene in front of him, he jumped when hoses came alive. As though they had been infused with energy, the hoses pulled away from the engine and began an elegant dance that twisted and knotted each line.

His arm burned and he now felt the pain. “Roy?” He called and called again. “Roy?” No one was here. Only this very red fire engine with no firemen. He turned to walk away and was greeted with a wall of water. The dancing hoses had now showered him with a waterfall. He tried to wipe away the splashes from his eyes to see who was directing the spray. He looked at his arm and it was gone. All that was left was a shriveled up nub at his shoulder. He screamed as the water increased, soaking him and drowning out his cries...

“Johnny?” Roy tried to rouse his distraught friend. Johnny’s fever had intensified and he seemed to be having another nightmare. “Johnny?”

Rain had continued to pour over them as they all huddled together for shelter and warmth. Johnny had been the only one unaware of their current situation. The storm brought thunder, lightening and plenty of squalls keeping them from moving very much. But, as Johnny’s movements got more violent, they tried to wake him up.

“He’s not doing so well, huh?” Cap asked loudly above the rain.

“His fever is high. This arm’s got to be infected. He’s lost too much fluid and I can’t do a damn thing about it!” Roy responded angrily, trying to keep his partner calm, despite his own anger.

“Hang in there, Roy. Hang in there.”

“I’m afraid.” Chet replied.

“Chet?” Cap looked at the short man who was now huddled next to him, still holding his middle to keep his ribs from shifting. He was pale, also suffering from the lack of water and hypothermia.. Rain cascaded all around them, the shelter doing nothing more than acting as a sieve.

“I’m afraid, Cap,” he admitted. “We’re just gonna die out here like this and no one’s gonna know about it. Hell, Johnny’s already on his way out...” he spat angrily.

Cap wrapped his arm around the shivering man. “It’s okay, Chet, it’s okay. We’ve got to hang on...all of us,” he looked at Roy, too. “We need each other and we need to concentrate on that.”

Another loud clap of thunder shook Chet and startled the rest of them. “Concentrate on what? Watching each of us wither away? I can’t take this any more!” Chet bolted up and ran out from under the shelter. He raised his hands up to the sky and yelled, ignoring the pain in his side from the broken ribs. “Come on! Take me now! Get it over with! Here I am!!”

Roy looked with desperation at Cap. Cap ran out and seized Chet. The rain continued its incessant downpour ignoring Chet’s tantrum. Cap tried pulling Chet, but he fought the lanky man. He threw punches and tried to kick, but Cap held fast. He felt Chet’s whole body tense up with anger and fear and he just held on, knowing that this man needed him right now. “It’s okay, Chet. It’s okay.”

“Aaarugghhh!” Chet let out another scream and then slumped in his captain’s arms. Cap, weary with his own physical struggle and now containing the struggles of Chet, slumped down to the ground with Chet’s unconscious form. He wasn’t sure if it was his tears or the rain that ran down his cheeks. All he knew was that they were all still breathing, still surviving. That was at least a small victory for today.

* * * * * * *

Roy watched Cap struggle with Chet, helpless to do anything. Johnny was delirious and he didn’t dare leave him. He pulled his partner closer to him, hoping to ease the man’s distress in some small way. Yes, Chet, I’m afraid, he admitted silently. I’m so afraid that I’ll never see Joanne and the kids again. I’m afraid that Johnny’s dying right beside me. I’m afraid we’ll never get off this island. Roy groaned as Johnny kicked him hard. His partner was fighting some new mental battle in his delirium and Roy was helpless, yet again. He tried to reach Johnny.

“Johnny, come on. I need to see you open those eyes,” he shook the rain-soaked man as he seemed to be easing up on his involuntary movements.

Lightening streaked across the sky, lighting up the water surrounding their little island. The rain began to taper off, turning into a steady drizzle. Roy watched as Cap carried Chet under the shelter and laid him down. He eased himself beside the stocky man and wrapped his arms around Chet.

“Cap, you okay?”

“Yeah, Roy, I’m okay. Maybe this rain will finally stop and let us get some sleep, huh? Better to conserve our strength.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Roy agreed as he rubbed Johnny’s sternum, hoping for a response. A small moan was all he got, but it was something. “Johnny’s not waking up right now, so I guess there’s nothing else to do.”

* * * * * * *

It was quiet. That was the one sensation he noticed above all else. Silence. Even the water was silent, the birds were silent and the leaves were silent. He couldn’t decide if that was comforting or not. He sat upright, recognizing the discomfort of his rain-soaked clothes and muddy sleeping spot. Gaining his bearings, he looked next to him to find Johnny still unconscious. He took his pulse and frowned. Too slow. He counted respirations and his heart sunk. His partner was fading quickly.

He looked out at the ocean and noted the calm water and the sunshine glimmering over the serene site. He sighed and tried to stand on his weakening legs. Chet was still unconscious, but seemed to be breathing normally. He looked around for Cap and didn’t see him. It was too quiet.

As he stretched the kinks out of his tired body, he looked around again. Cap couldn’t have gone too far. He walked to the bank. He smiled as he spotted Cap placing a rock around the wing piece. He had framed the entire piece with boulders and rocks making it appear man-made. Roy called out. “Cap?”

“Hey, Roy!” Cap waved his hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Not too bad. Sore, wet, and hungry.”

“Well, I had to do something. I figured this might be a little more visible. It’s been over three days now, I think...“ Cap pondered out loud, questioning his sense of time. “. . Well, I don’t really know, but surely someone will be out today, looking.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Roy responded, hoping to keep the optimism running.

“So, what’s the food choice for today?”

“Um . .not really sure. Guess we can look around, but I want to stick close to Johnny.” Roy paused. He wasn’t sure how much more he needed to share about Johnny’s condition.

“You do that. I’m gonna finish this up and I’ll be right there,” Cap informed him. He was moving slow, but he was set on his task.

“Okay, be careful.” Roy said as he turned back to the shelter.

“Johnny? Johnny?”

“Johnny, wake up,” Roy repeated.

Johnny stirred and groaned under Roy’s watchful eye. “Go away,” he murmured.

Roy’s heart leaped with excitement as Johnny appeared to be aware of his surroundings. He tried to hold back and proceeded to examine the extent of Johnny’s injury.

“Johnny, come on, I need to check out your arm. I’m going to unwrap this.”

“No...hurts,” his partner replied groggily.

“Shhh...just let me look. I’ll be careful.”

Roy slowly peeled away the scrap of fabric that Johnny had wrapped his arm with. It looked like one of his sweatshirts that he had torn up. Roy stopped when Johnny hissed through clenched teeth.

“Don’t...I think...infected,” Johnny gasped.

“Hang on, Johnny. At the very least let me put something clean on it,” Roy said.

He grabbed what was left of his backpack and ripped it apart, using the larger piece of fabric. He tried to remove what material he could but realized that the swelling and open blisters had insured that the fabric was infused to his arm. Johnny’s entire forearm and elbow had been burned.

“Oh, Johnny,” whispered Roy. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Johnny panted heavily from the pain of his exposed arm. Tears formed quickly. “God...Roy...it hurts so...much,” he cried.

“Johnny, I’m going to loosely wrap this around. We’ve got to keep your arm elevated to reduce the swelling. Do you hear me?” Roy tried to give clear instructions to reach through Johnny’s pain.

“...yes...okay...awww...man,”

Roy quickly wrapped the arm keeping the material loose. He bit down on all the expletives he was thinking knowing he needed antibiotic creams and IV’s to replace Johnny’s lost fluids. A dose of morphine would help, a bottle of whiskey, anything to help alleviate Johnny’s pain.

“Roy...?”

“Shh, Johnny, save your strength, okay?” Roy bit his lip, hoping to keep his own sense of helplessness far from his ailing partner.

“No...Roy...I...got...” Johnny tried to lick his parched lips. “...man, Roy, I think...” Johnny gasped again as another wave of pain coursed through him. “I’m afraid.”

“Johnny, stop. Be still and just hang on. Save your energy, Johnny.”

“Roy...no...I don’t think...I’m gonna...damn it!”

“Enough, Junior. I mean it,” Roy tried not to get angry.

“Roy, don’t...leave...”

Johnny shook his head back and forth attempting to quell the rising panic. He knew that during this clear moment in his head, that things had not improved for him. In fact, they had gotten worse and he knew it. Now, while he could think, he wanted Roy to listen to him. He grabbed Roy’s hand with his good arm. He found Roy’s grip strong and steadfast. He inhaled and spoke again.

“Roy, I’m...shocky...dying...and I’m afraid.”

“We are going to make it, John Gage. You hear me? We are surviving this whole damn thing. I won’t let you leave me.” Roy’s face bore the intensity of his fight for Johnny.

“Roy...I can’t...” Johnny gasped again and cried out with his weak voice. “...no!”

“Listen to me, Johnny. Listen to me,” Roy began to panic. He had to reach Johnny. “You said that Chad was afraid, right? He ran and that fear saved his life? But his team died? Listen to me, now. This team is still alive and we’re not running. We are not afraid. We are not afraid of the pain, the frustration, the lack of food or water, or anything else. We are not afraid, because we are together and we’re going to make it. We are together,” Roy held fast to his partner’s hand and demanded that Johnny keep looking at him through his fevered eyes.

Johnny had lost his voice, overcome with emotion and weariness. He blinked the tears back and whispered. “...Roy... “

“Johnny, we will do this together. We will be healed and we will let everyone see our own burning desire to survive this. We are not afraid.” Roy found a new strength in his own words and convictions, determined to save Johnny from despair and to rekindle the last ember of hope within his own heart.

At that moment, Cap had overheard the last comment Roy made and he decided to ease next to Roy and grip Johnny’s hand too. Johnny looked at both of them and he let the tears fall. He nodded his head and fell into the fevered pit of pain, taking with him the words of hope from his friends.

* * * * * * *

It had been a long search pattern, but they were close to wrapping it up. It had now been over five days since the missing seaplane had never arrived at its destination with the remaining firemen for the Island Challenge. The Coast Guard Commander developed a grid search pattern, sending several flight teams out daily to search all the many, remote islands across the Sound and the seaboard. They were the last team to fly the last grid. The pilot carefully followed the prescribed flight routine and continued to pray for a sighting. That was all they needed. The pilot flashed a quick smile and gave a thumbs up to the spotter sitting off the edge of the cabin. That was their signal for the last grid. Yesterday’s storm had slowed down their efforts and now he wanted to reclaim that time. He eased the stick forward as they swerved closer to the last set of islands in the Sound.

* * * * * * *

Roy had determined that Chet had slipped into a coma. He had probably aggravated some internal injuries during his last rampage and again, he felt helpless. Even worse, he couldn’t bear the thought that no one could express to Chet their attempts to keep hope alive as they had with Johnny. It had been another long night. In fact, he and Cap had pretty much resigned themselves to the fact that there wasn’t much either of them could do. Roy had managed to uncover some kind of bugs under a rock near the shelter, but he just couldn’t figure out how to swallow them without water.

Cap looked at him and noticed Roy’s hesitation. “They say...it’s...good protein,” he rasped from his parched throat.

Roy glared at Cap and tried a sarcastic grin. “Well...I don’t think I can do it.” Roy tried to grin but he was too tired. The few beetles that rolled in his hand went merrily on their way, as Roy dropped them to the ground. They had both retreated back to the shelter to keep an eye on their unconscious friends. They were both too weak to keep much of a lookout any longer and they simply settled for their impending fate. Despite Roy’s optimism with Johnny, now they no longer felt it and were both too weak to even try. Johnny had long ago ceased his delirious movements. He was no longer lucid and Roy felt as though he had already lost him. He longed for another moment with is partner. Maybe he would feel more hope then.

“Roy?” Cap tried to sit up, but couldn’t.

“What is it, Cap?”

“Roy, did you hear it?” Cap was breathing heavy with excitement. “Did you?”

“No, hear what?”

“It’s a plane, I mean a chopper...I know it is,”

“Cap, we can’t even crawl out there...are you sure?”

Cap rolled his head over looking at the man that used to look like Roy Desoto. Now, he simply looked like a man who had aged too fast, never took a bath and was indifferent to the layers of dirt on his body. “We’re still here, still breathing.”

“Cap?”

“We are not afraid...we...are still together,” Cap sighed.

Roy was moved by his words. He didn’t just share that with Johnny to keep him going, but he shared that with himself to motivate himself to survive. Now, Cap was motivating him with his very own words, again.

“I hear them...”

“Cap, I’ll...try to get out there...”

Roy sighed and raised himself to his elbows and then into an actual sitting position. He knew his legs wouldn’t carry him, so he patted Johnny’s hand and then crawled out toward the wing part. He tried to listen for the chopper and was disappointed.

He finally made it to the spot that Cap had created a few days ago with the rocks. The sun was settling behind the trees for it’s early evening retirement. He watched as his eyes watered, forcing him to blink. He didn’t think he’d have the energy to make it back to the shelter. He laid his head on the ground and tried to concentrate on the sensation of hearing. The sky was filled with small white wispy clouds with streaks of pink, lavender and gray from the setting sun. He was filled with a new panic as he realized this view might be his last. His hope faded as the sun departed their day. He closed his eyes and remembered Joanne’s smile, his children’s faces of joy and Johnny’s lopsided grin. These were the things that he held close to his heart.

As he thought about his life, he felt the breeze turn and it roused him to open his eyes. Once he focused back on the sky, he heard it. It was there. A distinct sound of blades turning in the sky that carried a chopper. It had to be, unless he was now hallucinating. Being dehydrated and dying of starvation, that was a definite possibility. He lifted his head and tried to sit up. There it was again...the chopper was close. He recalled his own words. ...we will be healed and we will let everyone see our own burning desire to survive this. We are not afraid.” He raised his head and smiled, watching the chopper blur his vision with the kicked up sand and dirt and small pebbles. It was the best thing he felt in days.

* * * * * * *

There were days when you knew this was the only place to be, the only thing that happened that mattered. Today would go down in his log as one of those days. The commander flew in close to capture the image of the man that was still alive on that rocky bank. He lay next to what appeared to be part of the seaplane’s wing identification. The spotter radioed back to headquarters for additional support and the commander began looking for a spot to land. Yes, this was one of those days.

* * * * * * *

“Still alive, we’re still alive. Do you hear me? Can you see me? I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We did it. We made it. And we did it together--we faced the trial and the fear. Can you feel my hand? Oh, Johnny, can you please answer me? Johnny?” He couldn’t understand why his partner’s hand felt so cold or why Johnny wouldn’t look at him. His face seemed so peaceful, as if he was only sleeping. Besides the fact that he was clean and actually smelled better than yesterday, he didn’t understand.

“Mr. DeSoto? I’m sorry but visitation is over. I need to ask you to leave.”

“Huh?” Roy looked at the well-dressed man that hovered near him. He turned around and looked back at Johnny and then he understood. “NOOOO!!!!!” He grasped the edge of the coffin and quickly touched Johnny’s peaceful face. Cold. Nothing. Dead. “NOOOO!!! Johnny, we made it! No, Johnny, no!” He fell to his knees clutching his stomach and gasping. The dreadful reality filled his very being and he couldn’t bear it. He tried to stand, only to fall again. He continued to cry, feeling the loneliness and fear wrap around him.

“Don’t be afraid, Roy, don’t be afraid.” A voice whispered behind him. He turned, trying to focus on the man behind him.

“We were together. He still had a pulse, damn it! They told me, he was still alive!” Confusion reigned in Roy’s grief-stricken mind.

The man stepped forward and reached for Roy. He was strong as he lifted Roy up. His deep brown eyes filled Roy with compassion and his smile dug deep into his left cheek. Tousled black hair framed the man’s kind face. “Don’t be afraid, Roy. We’ll always be together. I promise. Just remember me like this.” He grinned and his eyes twinkled with a calm spirit of hope.

Roy couldn’t take his eyes off of this man. All he saw was the depth of love and concern, the sense of determination and passion, the playfulness and the honor. “Johnny?” Roy asked, uncertainty in his hoarse voice.

“Don’t be afraid, Roy...Roy? Roy?”

“Roy? Come on, Roy, time to wake up, okay? Can you hear me?”

Roy tried to open his eyes and was surprised that they still worked. His eyelids were heavy from his tears...or from sleep? He was confused, and tried again. A soft light filtered through and he found he could keep them open for a little longer this time.

“Hey, there, Roy DeSoto. Are you okay? It sounded like you were having another bad dream?”

“Dix?” he managed to move his mouth, although it didn’t feel right.

“Ah, you remembered! Why don’t you try some water, okay?” She placed the cup with a straw near his mouth and encouraged him to take the water.

He felt weak and heavy. Looking around the hospital room, he vaguely remembered bits and pieces of the rescue crews that had airlifted them off the island.

“When...?”

“When did you get to Rampart?” Dixie knew what he was thinking. “Several hours ago. Joanne’s already been here, but is getting the kids settled in for the evening. She’ll be back soon.”

“Johnny? Cap? What about Chet?” he had to shake his dream and find the truth of his reality.

“Everyone’s here and accounted for. After they stabilized you at St. Mary’s Hospital in Seattle, we were able to arrange special transport for each of you. Courtesy of the L.A. County Fire Department.” Dixie silently said a ‘thank you’ for that small miracle. She knew in her heart that these men would recover quicker in their own home town.

Roy looked relieved and seemed to relax a little more. “And?” he tried to encourage Dixie for more details.

“Hank is suffering from the same thing you are; severe dehydration and hypothermia. Chet is breathing on his own now, but it was touch and go for a while. One of his broken ribs punctured a lung. He’s doing much better,” Dixie informed him.

“Johnny?”

“He’s in ICU right now. Pneumonia has set in, but he is holding steady. Kel’s got him on a respirator and the fluids are finally starting to perk him up a bit. He’s strong, Roy. He’ll just need some time to get over that infection.”

“His arm? How bad?”

“The burn unit is working on it. They may have to do some skin grafts. They’ll decide after the swelling goes down and Johnny’s feeling better.”

“When can I see him?” Roy asked anxiously, wanting to be near Johnny during his ordeal.

“Just wait a minute, Roy. We have to get you better, too. Don’t forget that.”

Roy looked at Dixie and smiled. He’d have to be careful to do as he was told. He didn’t want to loose any opportunity to see his partner. For now, he was satisfied that they were all on the road to recovery. He sighed and slipped deeper into his pillows. “Thanks, Dix.”

“You just rest, now. I’ll make sure Hank gets an update on you, now.”

Roy smiled and closed his eyes, feeling the weight of reality settle in. Maybe his next dream would be a nicer one.

* * * * * * *

Chet rubbed his hands together in anticipation. This would be a glorious day. Marco and Mike had arranged a welcoming picnic for the four survivors and their return to civilization. Although, it had now been several weeks since their haggard arrival home, they were each better prepared to enjoy the celebration. Chet was ready to dig into the promised barbecue and various homemade sides to satisfy his stomach. It had taken those several weeks to even manage eating real food again. Of course, not many people would call hospital food real, but Chet didn’t care. It was food. Something he wouldn’t take for granted again.

The many guests milled about the city park. Marco kept looking down the pathway, expecting the rest of his guests. He and Mike had gone to great lengths to make this something the guys would remember. When they had learned of their disappearance, they did nothing but wait and wait. Helplessness had become their constant companions as they moved about during their days; going through the motions, but without the heart. Mike and Marco’s hearts were out on that remote island.

“Here they come!” Marco exclaimed. The three men pulled up to the curb and Marco opened the door to Roy’s car. Cap and Johnny clamored out of the back seat and Roy out of the front. Joanne smiled at Marco and proceeded to park the car.

“Glad you’re here. You look good!” Marco said, patting Johnny on the back.

“Thanks, Marco.”

“Guys, you did not have to do this,” Cap started.

“Ah, but we did, Cap, we did. It’s not everyday we can say that we work with real survivors. You know, I bet you could write a book?” Marco’s enthusiasm made Cap smile.

Johnny turned to Roy. He sported a new pressure bandage for his arm and it was lighter than the ones he had to wear earlier after leaving ICU. It would be several more weeks before he would be released to go back to work, but he was fine with the wait. Cap and Roy had returned this week, while he and Chet continued their recovery.

“So, do ya think we’ll get some roasted hot-dogs, brownies, maybe come chili?” Johnny licked his lips.

Roy was happy to see Johnny’s appetite return. “I’m sure we might find something for you to eat!”

Mike led them to the front of the line of the many guests that joined the picnic. “Okay, gentlemen, time to dig in!” Mike and Marco, both holding the sheet that covered the food to keep the flies away, lifted together.

They both laughed as they watched their fellow firefighters maintain steady faces. Chet dropped his jaw and stared. Cap shook his head and smiled. Roy groaned. Johnny screwed up his face into a disgusted smirk. Laid out on the park picnic table was the stuff of their worst nightmare. Plates of berries and leaves, squirming meal worms, a bowl of live beetles and sandy oysters adorned the wood table.

“Oh, yeah, this is funny, guys. Real funny!” Johnny exclaimed. He stepped closer to the meal worms and looked at the Mike and Marco, who by now, were laughing heartily. “Okay, so where’s the real food?”

“Over here, guys!” Joanne called from the next picnic table.

The men moved cautiously past the inedible buffet and all sighed with satisfaction as the real picnic was uncovered. They feasted on chili dogs, ice cream, brownies, chips and other dishes that were prepared for them. They had all lost weight and even Doctor Morton was there, encouraging them to eat all they wanted. Once their stomachs were full, they enjoyed the air of celebration with their friends and family. As they began settling in to their lawn chairs watching the kids play and the other citizens using the park that afternoon, Johnny couldn’t help but smile.

Against the elements and all the odds, they had survived. He continued to watch the interaction of the people around him and he kept smiling.

“Roy?”

“Yeah, Johnny?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’d settle for hot-dogs and brownies over bugs,” Johnny grinned.

“But, Johnny, bugs are full of protein, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, well, I’ll get my protein from something else, thank you, anyway.”

Cap, Chet, Marco and Mike were cleaning up the tables. Johnny raised his head toward the afternoon LA sun and closed his eyes. Lolling his head back “So, Roy, how did we do it?”

“Do what, Johnny?”

“Survive?”

“We were not afraid. We were together,” Roy solemnly said, aware that his words were their lifeline and salvation from the insanity of their experience.

Johnny had tried to remember the details that continued to haunt him. Images and voices were constant in his dreams and he struggled to understand the depth of his emotions. His recovery included visits with the psychologist. But, somehow, he knew that Roy would end up helping him in the long-run make sense of it all.

“Yeah...no fear,” Johnny responded quietly.

* * * * * * *

 

This story was inspired by the actual event that the members of the Washington South Whidbey Fire & Rescue participated in recently. It is called the Ohana Island Firefighter Survival. I have always loved how our guys from Station 51 worked as a team and I used this to explore what might happen when some of them were put to the extreme test. Thankfully, no one was voted off this island! A great big Thank You to my cosmic sis, Mia, for her beta read and corrections! You’re the best!

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Guest Dispatchers                Stories by Robin W.