In the sleeping quarters at around two the next morning…

Roy rolled over and noticed his partner’s bunk was vacant.

___________________________________________

Five minutes later, the bed was still empty.

Roy slipped into the bottom half of his bunkers and went off in search of the bunk’s missing occupant.

___________________________________________

In the parking lot behind Station 51…

John Gage was seated in his Land Rover surfing through the music stations on his radio.

The vehicle’s front doors and the Station’s back door were wide open to enable him to hear the tones and to create a cross-breeze.

“I really learned a lot, really learned a lot

Love hurts –”

“—You got that right!” John bitterly interrupted and quickly turned the dial.

Gage gave up his search for a non-heartache song and flicked the blasted radio off.

A solitary figure suddenly appeared in the Station’s back doorway.

His buddy exited the brick building and stepped up to his open passenger door. “Nice night. Mind if I join you?”

Johnny pretended to brush the dust off the passenger seat and Roy slipped in beside him.

_______________________________________________

“Sometimes it helps to talk,” his friend offered, following several minutes of awkward silence.

“I feel like such a fool,” John quietly began, staring sadly down at his dashboard. “I’m so mad at myself, I may never speak to me again. And, all that time, I thought she wanted to be with me cuz she liked me. She must a’ just been feeling sorry for me. Why did I have to go and break my promise? But, what I felt wasn’t pity. She’d probably still like me if I was still sick. I mean, she’d prob’ly still be feeling sorry for me. I feel like such a fool. Of course, she was a great actress. I’ve got to give her that much. Why did I have to go and break my promise? No explanation…nothin’. Oh well…I promise I’ll never break my promise AGAIN.”

“What promise?”

“I promised myself I’d never get emotionally involved with someone I barely knew, and I blew it. Nazareth has it right. Love is like a fire. The closer you get, the worse you get burned.”

“Sounds like you’ve been burned pretty bad.”

“Bad enough to know I never wanna get burned again.”

“Why don’t you tell her how you feel?”

“No thanks. I feel like a big enough fool already. Besides, she doesn’t wanna talk to me and she won’t let me talk to her. When I tried, she threatened to call the cops. She doesn’t even care enough to explain why she won’t talk to me. In fact, she hates me. What I can’t figure out is WHY she hates me…”

“Want me to ask her?”

“No! I’m just gonna forget her. Completely drown her memory from my mind. Poof! I don’t care why she hates me. I don’t care why I don’t even deserve an explanation. I should just be glad it’s finished.”

“Is it? Finished?”

“Yes! I mean, no. In order for something to be finished it has to get started in the first place. I feel like such a fool.”

There followed another long, much more comfortable silence.

____________________________________________________

Johnny finally directed his gaze at his friend and flashed him a grateful grin. “You were right. I do feel better. Not a whole lot better. But a little bit better.”

Roy returned his grin. “C’mon. Let’s go get some sleep.”

The moment the word sleep escaped his lips, the claxons sounded summoning the now sleepy pair on a run.

______________________________________________________________________

Speaking of running…

John ran up to the dorm’s open doorway. “We got it, Cap!”

________________________________________________________

“Squad 51…man down…unknown cause…Barney’s Place…112 North 3^rd…cross streets 2^nd and Slater...ambulance responding...one-twelve North 3^rd...Time out: 2:23."

______________________________________________________________

Roy ran up to the call station. “Squad 51. KMG-365,” he acknowledged and then piled in behind the wheel, passing the address slip on to his navigator along the way.

“Barney’s Place?” Johnny repeated. “Hang a right.”

The garage door finished grinding open.

Roy pulled out onto the street-ramp and then hung a right.

The Squad went wailing off into the night with its warning lights flashing.

________________________________________________

Barney’s Place…six minutes later…

The Squad’s siren was silenced but its warning lights were left on. The paramedics grabbed their gear and entered the run down bar.

______________________________________________________

Where they were greeted by an unpleasant-smelling wall of smoke—for the second time that shift. A pained look passed between the pair as even more unsavory odors began to assault their nostrils.

The thick haze of cigarette smoke did nothing to enhance the bar’s already ridiculously dim lighting.

The sleazy place’s dozen or so patrons seemed oblivious to both them and the body lying in the middle of the room.

“Unknown cause, my ass,” Roy said in an aside to his associate.

Even from a distance, and through the extreme dimness, it was clearly evident that the motionless man on the floor’s jaw had either been dislocated or broken.

Alarm bells began going off in the rescuers’ heads.

Roy turned to face the bartender. “Have the police been called?”

“No need. We got no trouble here.”

Roy gave the guy a disgusted glare. A blow forceful enough to break a man’s jaw could also cause cervical spine damage. “Better get the backboard. I’ll call for backup.”

“Right.” John set his equipment cases down and quickly took his leave.

Roy put in the request for police backup. He re-clipped their radio to his belt and was just about to begin his IPS when a buxom red-head came staggering up and stooped beside him—close enough to be in the way.

“Iamsoooooooooooooosorry,” the woman slurred. “Is hegonnabe okay?”

“Mam, you’re gonna have to get back and give us some room to work here,” Roy ordered none too politely.

But the bombed broad didn’t budge.

So Roy took the woman by the arms and helped her to her unsteady feet. He then pointed her in the direction of her vacated bar stool and gave her a gentle nudge.

“Keep your grubby paws off of my wife!” a man’s menacing voice suddenly boomed from directly behind him.

Roy felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder and he was spun, rather forcefully, around. Before he could take evasive action, the hand’s vice-like grip was transferred from his left shoulder to the collar of his T-shirt and he was picked practically clean up off of his bunker-booted feet. “I’m sorry,” he squeaked as he was pulled right up to his assailant’s anger-filled face. “Honest,” he continued to croak, wincing at the big brute’s whiskey breath. “I didn’t know she was your wife. I apologize. It will never happen again. Now, please, just put me down so I can get back to work.”

“You leave my wife alone! You hear?” the two hundred and eighty pound six foot four behemoth literally belched and added a few brain-jarring shakes for emphasis.

‘I heard you but apparently you didn’t hear me,’ Roy regrettably realized. “Yes, sir! Understood, sir. Now, can I please just get back to work?”

Johnny re-entered the bar just then, saw his partner’s predicament and shouted, “Hey! Leave him alone!”

Instead, the big—still not listening—dude drew his right arm back and formed his hand into a fist.

John dropped the backboard and raced across the room to render Roy his assistance. “Leave. Him. Alone!” he re-shouted through gritted teeth and grabbed the guy’s cocked arm. His timely intervention prevented the goon from planting his right fist into his friend’s face. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop the big man from releasing Roy’s T-shirt and planting his left fist into his own. The blow was delivered with so much force it sent the fireman reeling—backwards—clear across the barroom, where he proceeded to crash into a couple of cops.

The officers, who had entered the bar just in time to witness the assault, caught the assailant’s victim under his flailing arms. The paramedic was then lowered quickly and carefully to the floor, so that they could withdraw their weapons from their holsters.

When it came to dealing with unruly drunks, drawn guns spoke a lot louder than the voice of reason.

The seemingly deaf dude immediately got the message and raised his powerful arms—fists still clenched— in surrender.

Roy reached his downed partner’s side in seconds. “Johnny! You okay?”

“Yeah,” John assured his anxious amigo as Roy’s worry-filled face passed before him for the fourth time. “Help me up.”

“Look, you just stay put—for now.”

“I will…if you will,” Gage groggily replied.

AN: Lyrics to first song “Love Hurts” by Nazareth.

Lyrics to second song “Love So Right” by The Bee Gees

Chapter 10