"Chet, I don't see this road on the map." Johnny looked up from the road map he held on his lap.
"Of course, you don't. If it was on the map it wouldn't be a private fishing spot -- better than that place you took us to last month. You'll see," Chet said smugly.
"I don't know, Chet." Marco too, was skeptical. "It doesn't look like this road's been used in years."
"Come on, guys. Did you come to fish or did you want to spend five days on the freeway?" Chet griped.
Johnny glanced at Marco, who was in the back seat, and shrugged.
"Look on the bright side. At least, it finally quit raining," Marco told him.
"I swear you guys are getting to be a couple of old ladies," Chet groused.
They traveled down the road another three or four miles. Suddenly there was a rumble from the hillside to their right.
"What the --?" Chet demanded.
"Avalanche!!!" Johnny gasped.
"Mud slide," Marco corrected him.
There was no time for further conversation. The whole road shook.Chet fought for control of the car as earth and rocks tumbled down at them. A large rock hit the right front fender of the car knocking it off course. Chet could not hold it. The car pitched to the left. It slid twenty feet down an embankment and into the river front first.
Chet had been wearing his seat belt and it grabbed him around the waist taking his breath away when he fell forward. He gasped for air.Colors danced before his eyes and he wondered if he was dead or alive.
Marco had been lounging on the back seat and he was knocked to the floor. The back of the front seat cushioned his fall. He was momentarily stunned but cold water soaking through the floorboards forced him to become alert. He sat up and leaned over the seat. "Hey, Chet," he shook him, "You all right? Hey, we gotta get out of here, man. We're taking on water!!!"
"Wha..huh?" Chet shook his head to clear it.
"Come on. We gotta get out! Can you grab Johnny? I can't reach him."
"Ahh." Chet released his seat belt and reached over to the passenger seat. "Gage? You okay?"
Johnny had not been wearing his seat belt and he had slammed full force into the metal casing of the windshield and the dashboard. Chet's car was more than 20 years old and the dashboard was not padded. The water had already risen to Johnny's chin.
Chet pulled him back. "Uh oh," he remarked to Marco. He was bleeding from a deep gash along his hairline over his right temple. Chet peeled his eyelid back. "Man, he's really out. That arm and shoulder don't look too good either."
"We gotta get him outta here or he'll drown!" Marco warned.
"Yeah. Look, grab the first aid kit from the back." Chet unsnapped the front of Johnny's denim shirt. He gently tucked Johnny's hand inside and resnapped it to immobilize his arm.
There was quite a bit of damage on Johnny's side of the car from the boulder so it was unlikely his door would open.
"Here. Hold him up," Chet commanded.
Marco leaned over the seat and held Johnny's head above the steadily rising water. Chet threw his weight against his own door. It took a couple of tries but he finally got it completely opened. Marco struggled to hold Johnny up in the air pocket.
"I'll see what we're up against. Be right back." Chet's door had been knocked partially open by the impact of the boulder hitting the car. Somewhere on the way down the embankment it had all but parted company with the car. It was attached only by one hinge. The pressure of the water kept in in place so Chet had to struggle with it. Finally he freed himself and slipped out into the water . He shoved off from the roof of the submerged car and made his way to the surface.
The water, loose rocks and earth had settled. He saw a place where they could take refuge. He grabbed a lungful of air and dove beneath the surface once more. He found the car and went back inside. He groped his way to the air pocket. "'Bout ten feet to the surface," he panted, "He still out?"
"Like a light," Marco said sadly. He had hopped over the seat to get better leverage and keep Johnny's head above the water.
"Pinch off his nostrils and cover his mouth," Chet instructed. "Let's get out of here."
Marco nodded only too happy to leave the flooded vehicle.
They got him to the surface with very little difficulty but he was coughing when they broke the water. Chet pointed to the spot he'd found on his first trip. They swam to the small ledge carefully towing Johnny between them. Together they got him up onto it.
"I'm going back to see what I can salvage. Looks like we'll be spending the night here," Chet told Marco. It was nearly dark. There was no way they would be able to climb out of there before morning.
"Be careful, Chet," Marco warned nervously.
Chet dove back into the river. The slide had loosened the rooftop carrier. He yanked it off and hauled it back to the surface. It was awkward but most of their supplies were in there and they needed them. There was no way to make a fire on the rock ledge and the temperature was dropping as darkness fell.
When he saw Chet resurface, Marco jumped in and helped him. They finally managed to haul the carrier onto the ledge.
"Now we'll see if this is really as watertight as the rental agent said," Chet panted as they opened it. Amazingly the gear inside was dry.
Marco pulled out Johnny's sleeping bag. "Let's open this up and get him into it. He's really starting to shiver."
They opened up the sleeping bag and carefully lifted him into it. Nevertheless the movement brought him around with a pain filled groan.
"Easy, Pal. You okay?" Chet asked quietly.
"Ah - I...I'm not sure."
"Here, Johnny, let me dress that cut." Marco forced his voice to be casual.
"What happened?" Johnny's voice was shaky.
"There was a slide. Remember? It knocked us off the road," Chet explained calmly.
"I'm all wet." Johnny was trying to piece things together.
"We all are, Pal," Chet said pulling the Coleman stove out of the carrier. "Let's see if we can crank up a little heat."
"How's that?" Marco asked, as he finished bandaging Johnny's wound.
"Okay," Johnny said, feeling the bandage to check it. He tried to sit up but suddenly he felt like he was being torn in half. He screamed.
They both grabbed him. "What's wrong?!" Chet demanded.
"Oh God!" Johnny gasped. Tears sprang to his eyes the pain was so great.
"Take it easy. Take it easy!!" Marco's voice shook.
"I'm not gonna try that again," Johnny said when he was able.
"Where does it hurt?" Chet asked in a businesslike manner.
"My side. My shoulder. I'm real dizzy and cold," he shivered.
"Here, Johnny, cover up." Marco eased the sleeping bag back over him and shot Chet a worried glance. They both knew he was badly hurt but there didn't seem to be any way to really help him till morning.
"I'll heat up a can of stew. That'll warm you up," Chet volunteered.
"No, Chet," Johnny gasped, rubbing his eyes with his good hand and trying to think clearly. "I'm not gonna eat anything. I think I have internal injuries. It feels like I'm bleeding inside." He was becoming winded. "If I ask for water later don't give it to me - maybe just we my lips. I - oh wow," he winced weakly.
"What is it?" Marco's eyes were wide with fear.
"I think I'm gonna pass out again...I'm woozy."
Chet grabbed the smelling salts from the first aide kit and passed them under Johnny's nose. Johnny gasped and started to choke. "Sit him up." As Chet suspected, Johnny threw up and he threw up some blood.
"There, you alright now?" Chet tried to sound calm.
"Better...lie...down. God!..It hurts."
"I know, Johnny, and I'm real sorry." Chet's eyes glistened. He had no business dragging them out here in the middle of nowhere just to go fishing. Somehow his grandfather's short cut didn't seem like such a wonderful idea any more. If this even was his grandfather's short cut. Now they were stuck and needed help and there was no help.
Johnny's lungs sounded clear and he wasn't having any trouble breathing so they let him lie down. He seemed a little better after a few minutes.
"How do you feel now, Johnny?" Marco asked.
Johnny struggled to be a paramedic instead of a patient. "I think I might be going into shock. I'm cold and my mouth is dry....numbness in my extremities." He struggled to keep his mind clear.
Marco covered him back up.
"Elevate...feet," Johnny mumbled trying to remember what to do.
Chet propped Johnny's feet up on the rooftop carrier. "Hang in there, Pal," he begged.
"Trying, Chet - I'm trying," Johnny gasped weakly. "Need help. Need IV."
"Damn, I wish Roy had come along," Chet whispered helplessly. Roy had talked about joining them but then couldn't, as it worked out. Johnny needed a paramedic. He needed medical attention. He seemed to be losing his battle to remain coherent.
"Maybe one of us should go for help," Marco suggested.
"Don't think I haven't thought of it., but there's no way. It's too dark. We'll never be able to climb out of here till morning."
"Even if we do climb out of here in the morning. The slide has blocked the road. It's not like anyone will just happen along and find us," Marco added sadly.
"What's worse is no one will even know we're missing for five days when we don't show up for duty."
"Five days! Chet, he won't last for five days if he's bleeding inside."
"I KNOW, MARCO, I KNOW!" Chet yelled but then calmed. "After all the people he risked his life to save -- when he needs help there's no one around to help him."
"Hey, Chet." Marco tried to comfort him, knowing he was blaming himself for this. "We're here. We'll help him."
"Yeah, if he can just hold on till morning." Chet sounded doubtful. He crawled over to check his pulse and breathing. "Pulse is rapid and weak, respiration's shallow, his skin is clammy, moist and pale. Looks like he's out again."
"He is in shock," Marco nodded in solemn agreement.
They both knew it was serious. It started to rain during the night and they took turns checking on him. Always fearing the worst. He threw up more blood and shivered violently at times but what was worse was when he lapsed into periods of deadly stillness. They both huddled close to him under a small tarp trying to keep him dry. They also hoped that the heat that their bodies generated would help keep him warm.
Chet was beginning to be aware that the muscles in his stomach were very sore because of the way they were pulled by the seat belt but he tried to ignore it. He did blame himself for this. He never even told anyone exactly where they were going -- just that it was his secret fishing spot. No one would even know where to look for them when they were declared missing. This thought tortured him all night.
The night seemed endless. The pouring rain and listening to Johnny's now labored breathing kept him awake. He heard Marco's whispered prayers in Spanish and mentally he joined in. The rain did not let up by morning and the pain in his abdomen was much worse but he still tried to ignore it.
"What's the matter?" Marco asked, sitting up in the early morning light.
"What do you mean?"
"You sound funny. Why are you rubbing your stomach? Are you hurt?"
"Course not. It's just where the seat belt caught me. Doesn't look like this rain's going to let up. I'm going to climb out of here and go for help."
"If you're sore maybe you'd better let me," Marco offered.
"No. I'm the one that knows my way around here. I'd make better time."
"Well, be careful. But hurry," Marco warned nervously.
"Be back as soon as I can," Chet said, trying to sound a lot more confident than he felt.
The hillside was muddy and slippery. Chet slid back a foot for every few feet he gained. Still he struggled on. He did feel a little guilty because he didn't know his way around all that well. He hadn't spent much time here since he was a kid. Also he had to admit, he didn't want to be alone with Johnny in case anything happened. He knew he'd never be able to get through that. He'd rather be going for help, doing something -- anything.
***
It was nearly two hours later that he struggled up out of the ravine. When he finally made it he looked back down and saw another reason why he had to hurry. The torrential rain had swollen the river and mud, rocks and debris were clogging it's natural outlet. Even up on their ledge, Marco and Johnny would eventually be in danger of drowning or being swept away by the swirling water.
He took off at a fast trot for the highway. It was almost another hour before he reached the main road. Not a car in sight. He ran down the pavement for a couple of miles. His breath was nearly gone when he came upon a phone booth. He searched his pockets for a coin and dialed the operator. There was no answer. How could the operator not answer! This area must be serviced by one of those hick independent phone companies, he decided. He wasn't even sure exactly where he was. There was no phone book. He felt panicky. He had no idea of the number of the local police or fire department. He didn't even know what county he was in. The county line was around here someplace. There were instructions on the phone for dialing a collect call. He followed the instructions and dialed the station. A shift was on duty today. He was having a lot of trouble getting his breath and he was doubled up in pain but all he could think about was the rising water and Johnny's dwindling chances for survival.
He dialed the number to Captain Stanley's office and prayed they weren't on a run. It took a while but finally Roy answered. The operator asked if he would accept a collect call from Chet Kelly and he laughed.
"My God! Take it . Roy!" Chet gasped furiously.
"Yeah, Okay." Roy sobered.
"You are accepting the charges, sir?" the operator made sure.
"Yes."
"Go ahead, please," she told Chet and left the line.
"What happened? Did you get arrested?" Roy wondered. Collect calls to the fire department were against policy but Chet had sounded so desperate and they could get the charges transferred to Chet's home phone later if they had to.
"Who got arrested?" Captain Stanley asked, walking in to his office.
"It's Chet -- collect," Roy told him.
Before the captain could object Chet broke in. He was so angry he was practically in tears. "For Godsake will you listen?!" he shouted but his voice shook fiercely.
"What is it, Chet?" Roy still seemed to think this was some kind of joke.
"There was a mudslide." Suddenly it really hurt to talk but he continued. "Car went off the road. Johnny's hurt bad. They could both be dead by now. I.....we....need help."
"Chet? What's wrong?" Roy could barely understand much of what he said but he no longer thought it was a joke.
"Can't breathe," Chet panted.
"Chet, where are you?" Roy demanded.
"Old Route 84...near county line. Marco and Johnny are in a ravine. River's rising...need..help."
"Chet, calm down. It sounds like you're hyperventilating. Try to slow down your breathing. I'll get a chopper. Cap, they've been in an accident. Old Route 84 near the county line."
Captain Stanley consulted the big county map that hung on the wall of his office. "That's 94's region but they're a brush fire station. No paramedics."
"Cap, I want to go. He says Johnny's hurt," Roy implored.
"I'll make arrangements with dispatch." Stanley used the other phone to call it in.
When he hung up Roy handed him the phone he'd been on. "Here, Cap, you'd better keep him talking to calm him down," he advised then ran out to the squad and hollered for Dwyer.
Johnny's substitute hopped in and they raced to meet up with Copter 10.
***
It was a long thirty minutes later that they set down near the phone booth. Dispatch had gotten the exact location from the phone company. 94 was already there. They had Chet breathing into a paper bag.
94 was a 2 man station. One of the men ran to Roy to help with the equipment.
"I think this guy might have some cracked ribs," he told Roy as they ran to the spot where they had Chet sitting on the running board of their vehicle.
"Never mind me," Chet said, "We have to get to them. The river is rising!"
"He's right," 94's cap confirmed. "They just posted flood warnings."
"Let's go then." Roy felt helpless but was determined to reach his partner somehow.
The copter was useless where they were going so they all piled into 94's four wheel drive Suburban. It took another twenty minutes to arrive at the site even with Chet's excellent directions. Every tree stump and bump in the road were firmly set in Chet's memory.
Roy insisted that Chet stay put and he ran to the edge of the ravine. "MARCO!" he hollered down as he scanned the area anxious to see any sign of the two men.
"Hurry!" Marco called back desperately. "The water's coming up over the ledge!"
Roy spotted him. "Be right down," he promised.
As fast as possible he and Dwyer rapelled down the side of the ravine to the ledge.
Johnny was mumbling. "Go. save yourself. I can't last much longer anyway. Go."
Marco looked exhausted.
"Here, Lopez. Go on up. We'll take care of him," Dwyer said with authority.
"I thought he was dead...till he started talking," Marco said quietly.
Marco looked a little shocky himself but there was no time to treat him there with the water rising as fast as it was. Dwyer pulled him up to strap the belt and harness on him. They both noticed he didn't put any weight on one of his feet and leaned into Dwyer for support. As soon as he was secure Dwyer called to 94 "OK, pull him up. Real easy. Looks like he's left foot is injured. Let them do all the work, Lopez," he instructed. Normally he would have gone up with him but it looked like it would take both of them to get Gage up and there was no time to spare.
Roy knelt by Johnny. "Johnny," he said gently. He could tell by Johnny's color that he was badly injured.
"Roy?" Johnny gasped with disbelief.
"Yeah, it's me," he smiled.
"Man, you're a sight for sore eyes. Remind me to never take one of Chet's short cuts ever again," Johnny tried to joke but the pain in his voice was obvious.
"Okay. But don't talk. I'm trying to get some vitals here." Roy gave him a very quick exam as Dwyer went to grab the Stokes they were now lowering.
"Roy, we'd better get him topside," Dwyer urged nervously. The water was lapping over the side of the ledge.
"I know," he hissed to Bert, then turned back to Johnny. "Where does it hurt, Johnny? Johnny?"
A moan was his only response. Johnny had lapsed into a semiconscious state.
"He's out of it. We gotta MOVE, Roy," Dwyer said desparately.
Carefully they got him into the Stokes and climbed up with it to keep it steady. It was none too soon. They were barely five feet above the ledge when the water surged up and washed the ledge clean. The camping equipment and everything that had been on the ledge was swept away by the fast-moving water.
Chet and Marco explained Johnny's symptoms as the all terrain truck raced back to the place where the copter waited. The rain stopped just before they reached it and they were able to take off right away.
They headed directly to the heliport at Rampart.
Johnny's vitals were very poor when they arrived and he was whisked immediately off to surgery.
"How are his chances?" Roy asked a hurried Dr. Brackett.
"Well, he's pretty weak," Brackett leveled with them. "Looks like he's lost a lot of blood. We'll do everything we can," he promised.
"Doc," Chet objected, "He's gotta make it. After surviving an avalanche, a car crash, a night on that ledge and even a flood. He can't die here in the hospital. He just CAN'T!!"
"Take it easy, Chet," Roy took pity on him. "Let's get those ribs of yours looked at." Roy had to keep busy and get his mind on something else. He knew that the doctors would give it their all but things might not go Johnny's way this time.
***
It was discovered that Chet had three broken ribs and some badly strained muscles. Marco had a fractured ankle and a bad case of exposure. Both were nearly exhausted and were admitted to the hospital.
Johnny was in surgery for nearly three hours but once more the doctors won their battle for his life. When he woke up in Recovery the first face he saw was Dixie McCall's.
"Well, hello. How are you feeling?" she asked kindly.
"Kinda spacy," he admitted. "My.. ah my stomach feels sorta funny."
"You just had surgery. It took some doing but Dr. Brackett and Dr. Morton finally got you back in one piece."
"I was a mess, huh?"
"Well no need to worry. Everything's back in working order," she smiled.
"I could tell something was awful wrong. It was just like they tell you in paramedic training only it's different when you're the patient," he began but suddenly remembered his companions. "Hey! Where's Chet and Marco? And how in the world did Roy get there?" He suddenly had a million questions.
"You'll be seeing Chet and Marco in a few minutes and they can fill you in on all the sordid details. We put you all in the same room so you could finish your vacation."
"Don't you think I've been through enough?" he objected lightly.
"You've been through enough? What about the poor nurses that have to enter that den of wolves? They may have to get combat pay!"
"You don't have to worry about me. All I want to do is sleep for the rest of my 'vacation'," he vowed honestly.
"Well, you rest here for a while then I'll get an orderly to take you on down to the room."
"Well, tell him to take the long way. I've had enough of short cuts," Johnny yawned.
Dixie just shook her head and assumed it was the medication talking.
***
Before the firemen were released everyone on the staff heard had about Chet's short cut. Chet knew he'd probably never live it down with the department either. The Captain had already given him grief about the collect call. Still, part of him didn't care. They were all alive and besides, he had plenty of time to plot his revenge and he'd miss no one in his plan either. Not even the hospital dietary staff that kept serving them fish!
Return to the Station|Return to the Logbook
