The visibility was almost nil. The marine layer was as thick as pea soup. Stoker squinted through the windshield as he forced as much speed as possible out of the heavy rig.
"It's the next right, Mike," Captain Stanley advised. He had been glaring out the window searching for familiar landmarks. The view was so obscured by fog that everything took on an alien; almost surreal appearance.
Stoker slowed and made the turn but suddenly a cold hand grabbed his gut and wouldn't let go. Everything started happening in slow motion. He tried to slam his foot onto the brake but it did no good at all. Where the road should have been, was nothing but air.
Roy and Johnny watched in horror as the rig careened off the road and disappeared into the fog-bound ravine.
Roy slammed on the brakes.
"Damn!" Johnny gasped still not believing what he had seen. Once the squad stopped he jumped out and started calling to the others.
Roy grabbed the mic and notified LA of the accident. Then he got out and joined Johnny at the spot where the engine went off the road. "Any sign?"
"No," Johnny grouched, "And there's sure no way we can have a copter fly over in this weather." He tried calling out once more. The fog not only obscured their vision, it muffled and distorted sound. Johnny was almost began to feel panicky. It was like the engine and its occupants had just disappeared off the face of the earth. He purposely started for the area they could barely make out as the edge of the ravine.
"Where the hell do you think your going?" Roy demanded, yanking him back to the comparative safety of the roadway.
"I can't just stand around here. I have to do something!"
"Like what? Get yourself lost too? Look, Johnny, I know how you feel ----"
"No you don't, Roy. You don't know at all. You have another family. These guys....these guys...."
"I know what you're saying, Johnny. But we have no idea where to look. We need more equipment. We need more help. We have to just wait."
"I know," Johnny muttered, "But knowin' doesn't make it any easier." He shook off Roy's restraining arm. "Where the hell are they?"
"I called dispatch. Help is on the way. We just have to hang tough."
Johnny didn't really hear what Roy had said. He was listening too hard for what he thought he had heard. There is was again! "Roy, you hear that?"
"What? I didn't hear anything."
"It was a moan. I'm sure of it. I'm going, Roy."
Roy didn't hear anything but he knew there would be no way to talk Johnny out of thinking he had heard something. He hoped to hell Johnny had heard something. "Okay, Johnny but gear up. You won't be able to help anyone if you take a tumble too."
Reluctantly Johnny strapped on his safety harness and allowed Roy to rope him off. He was surprised to see Roy strapping on his own harness and grabbing another rope. "I thought you wanted to wait for help."
"Screw them. They can follow the ropes to us."
Roy's choice of language let Johnny know Roy had been just as upset as he had been but, as usual, he handled it better.
When they were both tied off to the squad and each had a coil of rope over his shoulder, they grabbed the trauma box and the bio-phone. "Lead on, Cochise," Roy smiled.
"Cochise was smart enough not to live anywhere near this damn marine layer," Johnny muttered, carefully picking his way down the fog-enshrouded hillside. Periodically he would stop and listen. Finally he heard it again. "This way. Sounds like Marco."
With so little visibility they had to move painstakingly slowly. Roy was right. They couldn't help anyone by falling themselves but more importantly they wanted to make sure they didn't walk right by Marco because they hadn't seen him.
"Marco? Where are ya, Pal?" Johnny called. The fog absorbed and distorted his voice. He stopped to listen for a reply. He heard something. "This way!"
A few yards later they came upon him. He was laying on his back but his left arm was twisted in a very unnatural position next to him. They knelt on either side of him. He was unconscious but he seemed to be coming around.
"Marco, you're all right, Pal. Take it easy," Johnny told him. "Can you hear me? Marco?"
Marco groaned and opened his eyes. He forced them to focus. He saw Roy and Johnny leaning over him. He groaned again.
"Marco, do you remember what happened?" Roy asked as he shined a penlight into his eyes.
"Ahhh, don't." Marco turned his head away.
"We have to, Marco. This is what the County pays us for," Johnny said pleasantly, "Now answer Roy's question. Do you remember what happened to you?"
"Last thing I remember the cap said ‘bail' and I did. Ohh man, my back hurts."
"Is it a dull ache or a sharp pain?" Johnny asked in a businesslike voice.
"Sharp. Dios, it's killing me!"
"Well, Marco, it looks like you've gone and landed on some rocks. I think one of them may be poking you just a little."
"Let me up."
"No, Marco. You know the rules. You gotta let us get this C-collar on you and immobilize your head and neck. Then we need a backboard..." Johnny continued on as if everything was completely routine. He wanted Marco to think it was so he would relax and not panic. In actuality neither he or Roy like the looks of his left arm. That fact that it seemed to be causing him no pain was not a good sign.
"Well then go get it, dammit! I want to get off this rockpile," Marco snapped.
He was becoming agitated and slightly combative. Not a good sign at all being as he had lost consciousness and a head injury was entirely possible.
"Okay, Marco. You be good and do what Roy says and I'll run back and get the backboard." Johnny promised.
"Bring the trauma suit," Roy whispered.
Johnny nodded and left. He made his way back through the fog. There was no sign of the engine or any of the other men. How the hell can I not see something the size of the engine?
He followed his rope back up to the squad. He thought it odd that help had not yet arrived. The marine layer was burning off slowly. There was now an occasional patch of nearly clear air. He looked around at the road and the canyon. He recognized it now that he saw it clearly. My God! We're on the wrong road!!! LA would have responded the other company to the place they were supposed to be. He ran to the squad and grabbed the mic and gave dispatch the correct location. He knew it could take as much as a half an hour for the responding company to reach them. It was time the cap and the others didn't have to waste. If they could get to a victim and get him to Rampart within an hour he had a good chance of surviving. That hour was ticking away and with it the lives of his friends. He was so frustrated that he kicked the side of the squad. He kicked it so hard that he lost his balance and fell on his keister. "Well, that was a real bright move, Gage," he told himself but his choice of words made him think immediately of Chet. "Where the hell are you, Kelly? Don't you dare be dead. You hear me!" he yelled it as loud as he could but the fog swallowed his words. He got up pulled the stokes and a backboard out of their compartment then he yanked a bay doors opened. He pulled out anything he thought they could possibly need. He loaded all the equipment into the stokes, strapped it down and dragged it all back down the ravine.
He wanted to think this was all a nightmare. The crash, the fog, the fact that due to a screw-up help was going to be delayed -- what the hell else could go wrong? Every few feet he had to stop and yank on his rope which seemed to be getting hung up on a lot of underbrush this trip. He was standing under a small scrub pine when he had to tug on it for what seemed like the hundredth time. He'd bumped the lower branches. Suddenly something happened that made him scream like a schoolgirl at a slasher movie. A blood-covered arm flopped down from the branch and dangled there in front of his face. He fell backwards onto the ground almost losing his grip on the stokes. He didn't even realize that he screamed a second time.
He told himself to calm down even though the blood pounding in his ears was deafening. He forced himself to get up and approach the arm.
"I ain't dead yet, Gage. Suppose you could get me down?"
"Chet?" He nearly melted with relief. Chet was alive. He sounded reasonably strong. He was alert -- alert enough to have heard him yelling his fool head off by the squad. He knew Chet would never let him live that down and he didn't give a damn. He recovered enough to tease him right back. "What the hell are you doing up in that tree, Kelly?"
"Well I was having a nice nap till you came tromping along. I thought Indians were supposed to be so damn quiet in the woods. You could have never snuk up on anybody."
"I wasn't trying to sneak up on anybody," Johnny told him as he carefully climbed up into the tree to access Chet's condition. He checked him over but couldn't find any wound large enough to account for all the blood. "Where the heck are you bleeding from?"
"No place now. I performed first aid on myself. I - ah - punched myself in the nose when I landed," Chet admitted miserably.
Johnny laughed, "All the times I wanted to do that."
"Just get me down, Laughing Boy. Everybody else okay?"
"Well, ah we found Marco. Looks like he may have a compound fracture in his left arm and his back hurts so I'm on the way with the backboard."
"Well, go ahead. I'm not hurt. I'm just tangled up in these damn branches."
"Chet, those damn branches probably saved your skin. Looks like they absorbed most of the shock of the fall."
"Spare me the lecture. Go help Marco and then get back here."
"Sure thing. You know, Chet, this puts me in mind of a song -- Rock a bye Baby ---"
"Gage!!!"
"See ya, Chet," he grinned . He'd kept the conversation light as if there was nothing for Chet to worry about. He was hoping Chet wouldn't think to ask about the others.
"Gage, the Cap and Stoker?"
He deserved the truth. "We haven't found them yet in this pea soup. Another unit is on the way to help in the search. You just sit tight. I'll be back as soon as I get this stuff to Roy. Okay?"
"I don't know if they got out or not," Chet said in a small voice. "I just don't know."
Johnny squeezed his wrist for a minute. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he promised.
He hopped down from the tree and picked up the backboard.
"Gage, you can find your way back here?"
"Chet, you ever heard of an Indian who couldn't find his way around the woods?"
"Guess not."
Under normal conditions Johnny would have been doing a slow burn about Chet's stereotypical prejudices but if they helped him stay calm right now Johnny would use them too. He set off to the place where they had found Marco. Johnny noticed that he had no trouble at all finding them again. What if that fool Chet was actually right about all that crap?
"What took you so long?" Roy asked under his breath.
"Well, I got good news and bad news."
"Please -- what's the good news?" Roy asked nervously.
"I found Chet. He's just a little banged up but he's stuck up in a tree. I told him I'd be back for him."
"He's in a tree?!"
"Yeah, but for him it almost seems like a logical place," Johnny smiled. Boy did they need something to smile about.
"What's the bad news?"
"The bad news is we're not on the right road."
"What?! Mike stopped and checked the road sign!"
"Someone must have turned it. Kids pull pranks like that all the time." Johnny's voice caught. Because of a stupid prank the Cap and Stoker were probably going to die in the bottom of a fogged-in ravine.
"They may have gotten out too," Roy said softly. He knew his partner well enough to know what he was thinking. "Let's get Marco onto the backboard."
Marco was now quiet. He almost seemed to be dozing. Roy had been talking to him keeping him awake. Once they got him onto the backboard he became alert once more. "Fellas! My back doesn't hurt anymore!"
"I see what was causing your sharp pain," Johnny told him. He reached over and picked up Marco's helmet.
"I landed on that?"
"Looks that way, Pal," Roy laughed.
"Well it doesn't hurt any more so how ‘bout if I get up and----ahhhhhhhh"
Before they could stop him, he attempted to sit up and tried to move his bad arm.
"Marco, take it easy! We think you may have a broken arm," Johnny warned.
"I think you might be right," Marco agreed in a small voice.
Roy eased him back down and slipped the O2 on him. Roy had already cut away Marco's turnout coat. He carefully pulled away the last of the fabric. He and Johnny immobilized the arm. Roy had just picked up the biophone when suddenly Captain Hockrader seemed just suddenly appear. It startled all three of them.
"Gage, DeSoto," he barked, "What's the situation?"
As other men emerged from the fog they began to realize that ‘Captain Hook' was part of the rescue party not an apparition.
"Well, ah Lopez here has a compound fracture---"
"Is he packaged up and ready to transport?"
"Ah yeah, his vitals are now stable----"
"Good. We've got two ambulances topside. How ‘bout you move him out and get him going to the hospital?" It did not sound like a suggestion.
"Ah, Cap, we have another man stuck up in a tree over this way. He's not badly hurt but he needs to be extricated from the tree. Um, we still have two men missing. I'd like to help in the search," Johnny began nervously. How the hell did Hookrader reduce him to jelly like this?
"Negative, Gage. DeSoto and Bellingham will take Lopez up. You and Brice will go help the other man. When Bellingham gets done helping DeSoto he'll lead the civilian search volunteers and the dogs down here. Don't give me that look, Bellingham. You're too damn fat. You need the exercise. When Brice and Gage get the other man free get him topside then Gage stays with him and Brice joins the search. Got it?!"
"But, Cap, I want----"
"You wanna be in charge, Gage, you take the Captain's exam. Until you outrank me I'm in charge. Now let's MOVE IT!! The rest of you men fan out and we'll do a grid search as we go --even if we can't see a damn thing in this mess. Keep your eyes open!"
Johnny narrowed his eyes in anger but didn't dare say a word. "Come on, Brice," he snarled and led the way to the tree Chet was in.
"He's really something, isn't he?" Brice commented once they were out of earshot.
Johnny just shook his head. It would stand to reason that Brice would admire Captain Hook. At the moment he hated him. It was almost like he was purposely keeping him and Roy out of the search. Didn't he understand how important these guys were to them? Suddenly he stopped short. His move was so unexpected that Brice walked right into him.
"What's wrong? Did you lose your way? You should have marked ----"
"I'm not lost!" Johnny screamed at him. He needed to scream at someone and who better than Brice? He now fully understood why Captain Hook was keeping them from the search. He didn't expect the Cap and Stoker to be found alive.
"Well, where is he?" Brice demanded. He didn't particularly care for Gage's attitude but he supposed that it was understandable.
"This way." Johnny sullenly led Brice back to Chet's tree.
When they arrived at the tree Johnny called, "Chet, you still here?"
"Where the hell would I be?" Chet grouched, trying to move around so he could see them through the fog.
"Sit still, Kelly," Brice took command in a business-like manner.
"Oh great, you brought Brice along. My life is complete," Chet complained. "How's Marco?"
"He's looking pretty good," Johnny said. He forced his voice to be calm and far more pleasant than he felt. This mess was not Chet's fault. He climbed up into the tree. "Hand me that chain saw, Brice."
"Be careful with that, Gage," Chet warned nervously. "I don't want to be any shorter when you get done cutting."
***
Bellingham was puffing by the time they reached the road again. Roy was a little disgusted and took over Marco's care completely. Within a few minutes he had him inside an ambulance. Bellingham slammed the doors and banged on them. He no longer seemed that winded. He'd gotten rid of DeSoto as the captain had instructed him to do. He grabbed a stokes from his own squad and much of the same equipment Johnny had taken. Then he led the civilians back down the ravine. The Search and Rescues unit let their dogs go. While the fog hampered humans in their search it did little do confuse the sharper canine senses.
***
Johnny and Brice had just gotten Chet down from the tree. It turned out he had aggravated an old knee injury so they had to help him up to the to the staging area. There was a nurse with the civilian search and rescue unit and Johnny let her take over Chet's care. Chet was getting more enjoyment out of his knee injury that he ever had before.
Johnny stood by the edge of the ravine. He ached to go back down and join in the search. He looked at his watch. It had been well over two hours since the accident.
A woman approached him and offered him a cup of coffee. The civilian unit thought of everything, he thought to himself.
"Don't worry about your friends," she said simply. "The dogs will find them."
He looked at her more closely. He'd seen warm, knowing eyes like that before when he was a kid on the reservation. He'd known of people like that. People who knew things. He'd never put much stock in that before but he was willing to grasp at any hope at the moment.
"Will they be okay?" he asked in a small voice.
She looked up at the sky. The fog was burning off. "Good omen," she decided. Then she just walked away.
For some reason he felt better.
***
"The dogs are on something," the unit commander told Captain Hockrader. There was a difference in the pitch of their bark. Then there was silence. "This way."
They headed in the direction of the sound. At least Hockrader hoped it was the right direction. He couldn't see his hand in front of his face. He'd never worked with a dog unit before and he found the sudden silence of the dogs unnerving. He knew they were frequently called in for body searches. He fully expected that was what would be found and it angered him to lose good men that way.
When they finally caught up with the dogs he was surprised to see three large blood hounds laying down near Captain Stanley. He realized they were keeping him warm. Brice pushed past them and knelt by the Captain. "He's alive," Brice said in a business like manner and began assessing him. He could find no obvious wounds or fractures although he was covered with mud. His vitals were within the acceptable range. He decided to try and awaken him. "Captain Stanley, can you hear me? It's Craig Brice. Wake up."
The cap groaned and opened his eyes, "Lost," he mumbled, "Can't find my men. Lost men...lost boys...foggy.... Weird.... Never Never Land."
"Hank!" Hockrader leaned close to him, "Snap out of it, man!"
"Captain Hook!" Hank began to laugh.
"He's delirious," Hockrader growled.
"He does have a pretty good lump over his right ear," Brice reported.
"He sounds like my old Aunt Milly after she'd been nipping on the cooking sherry," Hockrader muttered.
Brice contacted Rampart. They wanted him immobilized and brought in.
"Get him up there, then turn him over to Gage. It'll give him something to do. I don't want Gage coming back down. I don't see how our luck can hold out," Hockrader commanded Brice.
Brice understood. He knew that few men in the department liked Hockrader but he did. Hockrader liked things done right and he wasn't out to win any popularity contests. Those were Brice's sentiments as well. But since being assigned to Hockrader Brice had come to understand him in a way few ever bothered to do. Hockrader's entire team was made up of men no one else wanted. Men that didn't fit into the comradeship that developed between firefighters. In spite of not being popular, they got the job done and it was done right. If he was stuck at the bottom of a ravine he could only hope that ‘Captain Hook' would be the guy looking for him. He didn't play politics and did what needed to be done. He had called in the search and rescue dog teams all on his own without running it by LA. They weren't usually called in this early in an incident but they were needed and Hockrader saw to it they were here.
***
The search resumed. Hockrader knew it was the Engineer they were looking for. He was the one that was the most likely to have been pinned in the wreckage as he would have been the one most impeded in his escape. He'd worked at 51s before deciding to retire then changing his mind and ultimately being reassigned to 45's. He couldn't remember wheter or not the Engineer was married. If so, he was afraid some women was going to get the call the wives all feared before the day was over.
***
Brice and three of the civilians brought the Cap up in 45's stokes. Johnny almost knocked them over in his rush to get the victim. "How is he?" he demanded.
"Little drunk at the moment," a civilian grinned. The cap had been serenading them as they carried him up the hill.
"Cap?"
"Gage," he smiled, "I was expecting Peter Pan."
"What?!!"
"He thinks he's in Never Never Land," a second civilian told him. They all knew that crash victims could tend to be a little confused.
"Where?" Johnny was also completely confused.
"It makes some sense, Gage," Chet told him. "I mean with Captain Hook and all."
"Shut up, Tinkerbell," Johnny snarled as he checked the Cap out. He knew Brice would have done all this but he had to do something.
"Now wait a minute, Gage!" Chet was angry.
Johnny couldn't even enjoy that fact. He was perplexed by the fact that he could find no serious injury on the cap. "How the hell---"
"Looks like he landed in some mud," Brice offered. He, too, was confused by the cap's relatively good condition.
"Didn't know your ol' cap could fly did ya, Gage?"
"No, Cap, I sure didn't."
"Air Force training -- had to leap out of planes. Crash training. Roll when you hit. It all came back to me." The cap suddenly became more alert. "Johnny?"
"Yeah, Cap, it's me. You just try and relax now."
"The other guys -- I couldn't find them."
"Well, don't worry, Cap. We found most of them. Marco broke his arm so Roy ran him in to Rampart. Ol' Chet here landed in a tree ----"
"Stoker didn't get out, did he?" the cap asked in stony voice. He seemed to be getting back to his normal self. "That's what I was trying to forget."
"We don't know that for sure. We haven't found him yet. But they will. They found you."
Brice's handy talkie squawked to life. "Squad 45, this is Engine 45"
"Squad 45," Brice answered.
"We've located the Engine. No sign of anyone here. Turn Stanley over to Gage and get back here. We need another pair of eyes -- No, Gage, you stay put. Engine 45 out."
"My damn eyes are better than yours, Brice!" Johnny flared.
"With my glasses my eyes are up to department standards," Brice said tersely.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything. The waiting is just frustrating the hell out of me."
"I know," Brice patted his shoulder and then went back to the search.
"He's right, you know, Johnny," the cap said sadly. "They need someone who's methodical and emotionally detached -- like Brice. This one is a little too close to home," Stanley said kindly.
Johnny looked up the sky was completely clear now and he could easily see his surroundings but the fog still clung to the low lying areas -- like the area in which they were searching for Stoker.
"He made it out of the rig. He's got a good shot," Stanley told him. "He may be just disoriented. I - ah - was a little disoriented myself," Stanley smiled. He did note that both Gage and Kelly seemed to find that funnier than he intended it to be.
Johnny couldn't sit still. He began to pace. He walked away from Chet and the Cap because he knew it bothered them. He looked at his watch again. It had been over three hours. There was no word from any of the searchers. He tried to tell himself that good news. It didn't take blood hounds that long to recover a body. He shuddered at that thought. He peered hard into the fog trying to will it away. Trying to see Mike. He almost thought he saw something move. He stared harder, convinced his eyes were playing tricks on him. Something was taking shape. He moved toward it.
"Careful, Johnny," Chet warned.
Johnny never heard him. He was moving toward the shape as if mesmerized.
"Gage!" the Cap called.
He never heard him either. He started to run toward the shape.
***
Roy eagerly jumped out of the ambulance once it came to a halt. The driver and attendant manned the gurney as they all ran it to Rampart. The place looked like a war zone. This was not the only accident that the weather had caused. The halls were lined with gurneys as patients were triaged to the treatment rooms.
Dixie looked up from the patient she was interviewing. She came over as asked Roy for an assessment of Marco's condition. She too gave him a quick check.
"Look, Roy, we're really backed up. I have life threatening injuries in all five treatment rooms and we have victims already undergoing surgery. I'm afraid Marco is going to have to wait but I've already got him on the waiting list for radiology. I've called in two separate teams and we are still shorthanded. I may need to press you into service but for the moment you just stay with him and try to make him comfortable. I'm sorry. That's the best I can do for now. Every other Trauma center in the County is in the same situation or I'd send you on. Plus we need the ambulance back in service. On a brighter note, we've heard from Brice. They have found Captain Stanley and he's only suffered minor injuries. Since ambulances are in short supply, Dr Brackett has ordered him and Chet to wait for transport in case the other man ---"
"Stoker. Mike Stoker," Roy supplied forcefully. Stoker was not going to become merely a nameless statistic as long as Roy had anything to say about it.
Dixie shot him a suspicious look but continued on, "In case Stoker needs an ambulance when they locate him."
Roy just nodded and sat down in a chair next to Marco. "You all right?"
Marco just nodded.
Neither of them could think of anything to say. They just watched the drama that was unfolding all around them in the ER.
Roy had never felt so helpless in his life. Still, the cap had been found and he was all right. He wanted to be back there. He wanted to join in the search but right now he was here and he'd do whatever he could. Even if it was only to keep on eye on Marco. He was being awfully quiet but Roy knew that deep down Marco would rather be in a fire than a hospital.
***
Mike Stoker stumbled as he pulled himself up the hill. He had been running. The climb had slowed him down but he was still in a big hurry to get out of that ravine and away from those dogs. He never saw Johnny until he ploughed into him. He grabbed onto Johnny with all his might afraid he'd fall back down and into the jaws of what he was desperately trying to escape.
"Whoa! Whoa. Easy there, Mike, slow down. You'd think the devil was on your tail." Johnny held him tight to stop him.
"Dogs!" Mike gasped, "They're after me. Gotta run!"
Johnny was a little shocked at his appearance now that he was out of the fog. He was very pale and sweating profusely but he was alert and moving under his own power. Mostly he seemed to be terrified.
"It's all right, Mike. Those are search dogs. They won't hurt you." He walked him over to the others.
"Sit down let me look you over," he said pleasantly. "There's nothing to be afraid of."
"Yes there is," Mike gasped.
"Gage," Chet hissed, "He was attacked by dogs once when he was a little kid. He's not even real comfortable with Henry."
"Mike, you've got to calm down. You're hyperventilating. Take it easy. It's all right. Those dogs are not going to hurt you. Do you understand me? Everything is all right," Johnny insisted forcefully. He had no idea that Stoker had a thing about dogs or how Chet knew about it but it did explain a few things.
"No it isn't," Mike said in a small voice. "I -- I wrecked the engine. They're gonna fire me."
"No chance, Pal, this was just an accident. That's all!" Captain Stanley insisted.
"They yelled at Johnny for losing helmets and Chet for losing badges and ----Hell! an engine costs more than those things ---"
"Yeah but the engine is insured and the department has to eat the cost of lost helmets and badges," Stanley assured him. "Johnny, get on your handy talkie and call off the search." Captain Stanley was once more in charge. His men were all right. To hell with the engine, as far as he was concerned.
He looked up at the now perfectly clear day. It was easy to see how the accident had happened. What had looked to him like a secondary road coming off the main one was just a place to pull over and enjoy the view. According to the map it was where the road should have been but Gage had explained that they had been on the wrong road to begin with. It was a mess but it was nobody's fault and everyone had beat the odds and walked away. In this line of work you took every piece of luck that came your way. They'd get through this with a few bumps and bruises and he'd have to put up with being teased for quite a while for what Chet was already calling his stellar vocal performance but he'd get over it. They all would. This was what they did. It might take a while but before long they'd be back in harness and doing what they loved to do. He remembered the strange hallucinations that he'd had earlier. Maybe there was a little Peter Pan in all of them. They'd never outgrown their love of fire trucks or of challenging the odds and believing they'd beat them. Well, they had beat them today -- even if they had to have the help of Captain Hook!
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