Author's notes: Sorry if this one is too long. I nearly had it finished when one of my paramedic buddies was involved in a horrible accident. He was treating a patient in the back of the ambulance on the way to the hospital when the vehicle went off the road and rolled several times, landing on the roof. He was not belted in, and has suffered career-ending injuries [two crushed vertebrae, several broken ribs, severe concussion]. He had surgery, and the good news it that he'll eventually walk again; the bad news is that he'll never be a paramedic again. This is really preying on my mind a lot more than I thought it would, so there's a lot more angst in this story than I intended. I'm afraid I'll have to put it down in two parts. Thanks for indulging me. This story is dedicated to Brian, for more reasons than I can mention.
Johnny looked at his watch. "Hey, Cap," he called, "How many bags does that make now?"
Hank Stanley picked up two sandbags and heaved them onto the large pile. "By my reckoning, that makes about five thousand since we started. We've nearly caught up to Station 8. Man, I hate just waiting around, don't you?"
Mike Stoker took a short breather and leaned on his shovel. "Cap, do you suppose we'll actually get a run? I mean, we've been here for two hours, and nothing. I know it's important to fill as many sandbags as possible against the floods, but I'm getting bored with the inactivity."
"You said it, Mike," chimed in Marco, as he finished tying off another bag. "Mind you, it's better than just working out in the weight room or something. At least we have something more to show for it than just sweat."
Chet carried another sandbag to the pile. "You know, I wish..."
He was interrupted by the Battalion Chief. "Hank, we just got a report of people trapped up in the campground at Bear Canyon. Get up there and don't worry, we'll have plenty of sand for you when you get back," he said, clapping Captain Stanley on the shoulder.
"Right, Chief," Hank responded with a rueful smile. "C'mon, boys, let's roll."
Roy was astonished as they drove onto the Bear Canyon Road. "Where in the hell did all this fog come from?" he wondered. "Jeez! This road is like ice!" he said as he wrenched the wheels away from the precipice they had nearly gone over.
Johnny picked up the mike. "Squad 51 to Engine 51."
"Go ahead, Johnny," answered Cap.
"Cap, the road's a real mess here. Tell Mike to take it really easy. We'll wait for you at the next ridge -- you can't see a damn thing in this fog."
"10-4, Gage." Hank turned to Marco and Chet who were in the jump seats. "Hang on, you guys....We've got some really nasty roads up ahead."
Roy carefully negotiated yet another slippery curve on the road. The squad slewed sideways. He swore, pulled the vehicle over and looked expectantly back to make sure the engine had negotiated the treacherous turn.
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.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Cap, I'm losing it!" shouted Mike. "The road's gone!"
"Bail out!" shouted Hank to Chet and Marco, as he struggled with both his and Stoker's seatbelts. He heard some crashing in the bushes and hoped that his men had managed to throw themselves clear and to some degree of safety. His last conscious thought was that Mike was still strapped into the driver's seat. Then there was tremendous pain, followed by blackness.
Johnny grabbed the mike as Roy flung open his door to the squad and started gathering ropes. "LA, this is Squad 51! Engine 51 has just gone over the side of Bear Canyon road, about a mile and a half north of Highway 2! Please respond an additional company and ambulances to this site! We're going to head down after them! Advise responding company that the road appears to be washed out at this location!"
"Squad 51, 10-4."
Johnny grabbed the handie-talkies and tossed one to Roy. Roy already had the ropes anchored to the squad and was peering over the edge, sizing up the craggy slope.
"Cap! Marco! Chet! Mike!" Roy hollered, without getting any response from below. "Dammit, John, I can't even see the ruts where the engine went over! How are we going to find them in this?"
"We'll just have to improvise." He jogged back up the road and around the curve, looking for any clues about where the engine had slid off the edge. "Hey, Roy," he called, "This looks like the place. Can you see anything from there?"
"No,...wait a minute! Just about a hundred feet down, to your left -- there's something there, but I can't be sure if it's the engine. I'll bring the squad over."
"Be careful, Roy," Johnny advised.
"With you as a partner, I'm always careful," Roy shot back. His attempt at humour didn't fool either of them, though. They were both scared to death. He carefully drove over to the curve where Johnny continued to try to raise the engine on the handie-talkie. As Roy jumped out of the cab and looked at his partner, Johnny sadly shook his head.
"I'm not getting anything from them," he said.
Roy spoke into the handie-talkie. "LA, this is Squad 51. What is the ETA of additional units at our location?"
"Squad 51, LA. ETA of Station 8 is approximately fifteen minutes."
"10-4." He turned to Johnny. "We can't wait that long. Let's go, Junior."
"With you, Pally."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
They elected to leave most of their equipment with the squad; it would only slow them down, and Station 8 would be able to bring them what they needed when they found their crew. As they carefully slid down the ravine, they listened for any sounds that would help them find their friends. Roy stopped suddenly. "Hey, Johnny, did you hear that? Just below you, and to your left, I think."
Johnny held his breath and listened. "You're right, Roy, it sounds like moaning. I'll check it out."
He scurried down, and stumbled across a very battered Marco. "Roy, I found Marco!" he shouted with joy. "He's alive!"
"Great!" answered Roy. "I'll keep checking over here."
Johnny bent over Marco. "Marco! Can you hear me? How are you doing?" Johnny said as he quickly checked Marco for any life-threatening conditions. Marco opened his eyes and stared at Johnny. "Wha...wha happened? I was... flying?"
"Marco, is your breathing okay?"
"Yeah.... my left arm hurts like crazy, though.... Realization dawned in his eyes. "Did we go over the edge? Yeah, that's it....Cap told us to bail. Where are the others?" he asked as he struggled to get up.
"Marco, lie still!" ordered Johnny. "Where does it hurt?" he asked more gently.
"Well, my left arm, my whole left side, my left leg, my head a bit. Where are the others?" he asked again, more quietly.
"We haven't found them yet, but we will. How's your back?"
"It feels okay."
"Did you hit your head?" asked Johnny as he quickly checked Marco's pupils. Normal, he thought. At least that's something.
"Not really -- I just landed kind of weird. I don't remember hitting my head." Marco grabbed Johnny's arm with his right hand. "Find the others, Johnny, I'll be okay," he said, grimacing.
"Are you going to be okay by yourself for a few minutes? Station 8 should be here any time now," Johnny said, patting Marco's good shoulder.
"Yeah. Go find the others," Marco pleaded.
"Okay. Just lie still -- we should..."
"Engine 8 to Squad 51."
Johnny nearly dropped the handie-talkie in his eagerness. "Go ahead, Station 8. Are you up there?"
"Affirmative. We can see your ropes. Have you found them yet?" asked Captain Stone.
"Stoney, this is John Gage. We've found Marco Lopez. He has a probable dislocated shoulder, bruised or broken ribs, possible broken leg. We'll need a backboard, collar, a stokes and some splints."
"10-4, John." Stoney paused, then asked, "What about the others?"
"We haven't found them yet."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Johnny heard some crashing through the brush on the slope above him. "Over here!" he yelled, waving his arms. It seemed forever to him before he saw the familiar figures of Pat and Murray, the paramedic team from Station 8, but it was really only a couple of minutes. He quickly briefed them on Marco's condition, then leaned over to pat Marco on the shoulder and said, "Hang in there, pal. We'll check in lat..."
His handie-talkie crackled to life. "Johnny, I found Chet! He's pretty banged up, and he has a flail chest. I need you here, partner," said Roy urgently.
"Go, Johnny," said Marco.
Johnny nodded, and spoke into his handie-talkie. "HT 51 from Squad 51 -- on the way. Any sign of the rig?"
Roy hesitated, and said softly, "Nothing yet. It may have gone all the way down the ravine."
Stoney tossed some pressure dressings to Johnny as he headed down to Roy. "Stay in touch, Johnny. We'll keep an eye on things here." He turned to one of his crew. "Fred, go with Johnny."
"Thanks, Stoney."
When Johnny and Fred reached Roy, he had just finished immobilizing Chet's chest. Roy looked up at them. "We need to get him on a backboard. I'll stay with him -- he's unconscious, and his breathing is laboured and irregular. We still have to find Mike and Cap."
"HT 51 from Station 8," said Stoney. "We're sending you another Stokes and a spinal kit."
Roy picked up his handie-talkie. "Thanks, Stoney. We're about fifty yards down and to the right of Marco."
"Gotcha, Roy. Hang in there."
Johnny mused for a minute. "If Marco and Chet both bailed, and ended up where they did, then the engine could be about halfway between them. Let's look there first."
Fred agreed. He and Johnny descended the treacherous slope about twenty yards apart, sweeping the hillside with their lights. Suddenly Johnny let out a shout. "Down here! About forty, fifty yards to your left, Fred."
Engine 51 was canted crazily on a rocky outcropping, lying on its left side. The driver's side was almost completely caved in. Johnny's breath caught as he clambered up the smashed-in passenger side. Cap was dangling from his seatbelt, with a very large laceration on his forehead where the windshield had caved in. He was covered in blood. Mike was lying against the crushed driver's side, unmoving, and also covered in blood. Johnny tried to open the door, and swore when he realized it was jammed. He checked for a carotid pulse. It was there, but Cap showed no signs of awareness. "Fred, let them know that we've found the rig. We'll need portapower, probably the Jaws and some prybars. I'm going to try to get in through the window. I'm going to need some medical help down here, too. I can't even get to Mike," he said in frustration.
"Right, Johnny." Fred contacted Stoney, and informed him of the situation.
"10-4, Fred. Chet and Marco are already on the way to the hospital with Pat and Murray. Roy and I are heading down with the equipment from the Squad. We should be there in about five minutes."
Johnny had managed to pry open the passenger door of the engine, and had squeezed into the cab of Engine 51. "Fred, I'm going to put the safety harness on Cap. I can't even get to Mike until we get Cap out of the cab. From what I can tell, Cap's got a head injury. I can't really assess him properly until we can get him out."
Roy and Stoney arrived with the necessary gear. They were able to get ropes through the safety harness in order to prevent Cap from dropping once the seatbelts were removed. Roy wordlessly passed Johnny a cervical collar. He wondered idly if he looked as much a wreck as Johnny did. It wouldn't surprise him.
"Okay, Johnny. We've got his weight tied off, so any time you're ready..."
It wasn't easy in the cramped quarters, but he finally succeeded in cutting the seatbelts. "Take him slowly," said Johnny. Where in the hell is all the blood coming from? he thought. Cap's wound isn't that serious. "There's a lot of blood coming from somewhere, but I don't know.... JEEZUS!" he said as he was finally able to examine Mike Stoker.
Roy looked up in alarm from his examination of Cap.
"Give me some abdominal dressings, STAT!" he shouted. "Mike's got an open abdominal wound here, and I think his spleen may be ruptured! Cap's legs were acting like a tourniquet, and keeping pressure on. Stoney, can you get that windshield out of the way? It's like a huge razor, and I'm afraid to move Mike any more. He's already taken a huge slice to the belly. At least it only seems to be a small tear to the spleen, but it's impossible to tell what the total damage with all this blood. He's really shocky, though. He's centrally cyanotic, and he's got a really thready pulse. Any chance of a helicopter?"
Stoney had already been in touch with dispatch. "Copter 10 should be here in four minutes. Can you get them packaged that quickly?"
Roy had finished his preliminary on Cap and was immobilizing him in the stokes. "Watch us," he said tersely.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Johnny put as much pressure as he dared on Mike's abdominal wound. He applied the cervical collar, and noticed almost in passing that Mike's left arm was grossly deformed. That can wait until later, he thought. He checked Mike's legs and was surprised to find them relatively undamaged apart from a few bruises and lacerations. Now that the windshield was out of the way, he had enough room to quickly check Stoker's back for injuries. As he reached the midspine, Mike groaned lightly. "Get out, get out, get out...I can't hold it....no road...no road," he mumbled incoherently.
"Mike, can you hear me?" asked Johnny quickly, but Mike just kept mumbling about ‘no road', then lapsed again into unconsciousness.
"Give me that harness, Stoney," John directed. "We're going to have to move him quickly. Is the backboard ready?"
"Yeah, Johnny. You need a hand in there?"
"No, it's not stable enough. You guys ready on the ropes? I want to bring him up real slow. You got some dressings handy, Stoney? The movement might open that wound some more."
"We're set up, Johnny. Whenever you're ready," answered Captain Stone.
"Okay, take him now, slow," said Johnny.
The men on the ropes pulled slowly and steadily. Johnny grabbed Mike's legs to swing him around what was left of the steering column. "Okay, he's free from the wheel -- get him up, now," said Johnny, as he lifted Mike's lower body up through the passenger's door. Mike moaned incoherently and babbled, "Road....get out....no road...get out...."
"Dammit!" swore Johnny, as blood from Mike's injury showered down on his face. "Stoney..." he began.
"Already on it, John," answered Stoney as he applied more dressings to Mike's abdomen. Johnny quickly hauled himself out of the wrecked engine and picked up the biophone. Stoney said, "The copter's here. We'll bring the squad to Rampart for you. You two get going, and keep in touch, okay?"
Roy grunted an acknowledgment as he and Johnny hurried over to the copter with their patients. Cap and Mike were quickly loaded into the helicopter, and Fred came along to handle the radio while Johnny and Roy took care of their crewmates.
"Rampart, this is County 51. How do you read?" Fred said into the biophone.
"51, this is Rampart. Who's speaking?" asked Joe Early.
"Rampart, this is Firefighter Fred Hayes, on behalf of Gage and DeSoto. They've both got their hands full at the moment. We're coming in on Copter 10. We have two patients from a rollover of a fire engine. First patient is a male, age 40. He is unconscious from an open head injury. He also has bruising on his chest and shoulder from the seatbelt. Second patient is also male, age 37. He is semiconscious and incoherent. He has an open abdominal wound, and has lost a lot of blood. Wounds have been dressed. In addition, the left arm is grossly deformed, with possible fractured elbow, humerus, and ulna. Stand by for vitals."
"Standing by, 51," answered Early. He looked speculatively at Kel Brackett and Dixie McCall, who had just arrived at the station. "Dix, we're going to need two more treatment rooms set up, and alert the OR -- we've got an open abdominal injury coming in. Also,..." He was interrupted by the arrival of two gurneys bearing Chet and Marco, who were both unconscious. He looked at Pat and Murray and asked, "What the hell happened?" as Pat demanded, "Did they find the engine yet?"
"Take them into Room One," directed Kel, as he headed to the treatment room with Murray following close behind. As the gurneys were taken into the room, Murray was filling in Brackett on just what had happened. Meanwhile, Pat breathlessly brought Joe and Dixie up to date.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Joe said, "I guess they must have found the engine. Johnny and Roy are on the way in a chopper with two more patients. They wouldn't leave the scene without the rest of their crew."
"How are Mike and Captain Stanley?" asked Pat, with a haunted look in his eyes.
"Pretty bad, from the sounds of things," replied Early slowly. "Why don't you go help Dr. Brackett in Treatment One?" he suggested.
Pat sighed and nodded. He headed to Room One as the base station crackled to life.
"Rampart, this is County 51. Vital signs on patient one: pulse is 90, strong and regular; respiration is 22 and shallow, with unequal breath sounds -- stronger on the right than the left. Skin is flushed, warm and dry. Pupils are unequal and reactive -- left pupil is dilated. Blood pressure is 150 over 110. Patient has a laceration to the right side of the forehead, and numerous abrasions and contusions. Patient is still unconscious. There is bruising to the upper right and lower left chest consistent with the position of the shoulder belt. There is bruising at both ends of the right clavicle. Second patient has an open abdominal wound to the upper left quadrant, approximately six inches long, and at least half an inch deep, from a broken windshield. Patient also has a severely angulated left arm, with probable fractures to the elbow, humerus, and ulna. There is no radial pulse to the left arm, but there is a weak brachial pulse. Patient is drifting between unconsciousness and a semiconscious, incoherent state. Vital signs are: Pulse 118, weak, slightly irregular; respiration is 25, shallow, also slightly irregular. Breath sounds are equal. Skin is cold, cyanotic and diaphoretic. Pupils are equal and reactive. Blood pressure is 80 over 50. Request IVS for both patients," relayed Fred.
Joe paused a moment to consider. "51, start bilateral large bore IVS of Ringer's on both patients; on patient two, piggy-back an IV of D5W as well. Can you end me a strip from patient two?"
"Bilateral large bore IVS of Ringer's on both patients, with a piggy-back of D5W on Mike. Stand by on the strip, Rampart."
"Standing by, 51. Are your patients Hank Stanley and Mike Stoker?" asked Early.
"Affirmative, Rampart, and in that order. Here comes your strip. This is lead 2."
The squeal of the cardiac tracing was the only sound for a moment. Everyone said a silent prayer for the men of Station 51. Joe examined the cardiac strip while Dixie said, "I'll go tell the others, get two more treatment rooms set up and alert the OR."
"Thanks, Dix." He thumbed the mike. "51, I'm showing a slightly irregular sinus rhythm, with occasional PVCs. Do you concur?"
There was a moment of silence while Fred relayed the findings to Johnny. "Rampart, that is affirmative. Our ETA is now four minutes."
"10-4, 51. Standing by," replied Joe. "Carol, can you get a team up to the helipad? They'll be coming here first, then to surgery."
"Right away, Joe," said Carol as she headed for the elevator.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Dixie arrived back at the base station, saying, "When they get here, we'll take Hank in Room Two and Mike in Room Four. Was there anyone else from that accident?"
Joe replied, "I sure hope not, but I'll check. 51, are there any other victims from that accident? Chet and Marco arrived about three minutes ago."
"Negative, Rampart. Update on vitals for patient one: pulse is 84, strong and regular; respiration is 18 and shallow; blood pressure is 140 over 110. Pupils are still unequal and reactive. He is responsive to pain only. Patient two's vital signs: pulse 128, weak, still slightly irregular; respiration is 24, shallow; blood pressure is 70 over 50. We have the hospital in sight now."
"10-4, 51. A team is waiting for you on the roof."
Dixie said, "I'm going to pop into One to check on the others. The boys will want to know when they get down here..."
Joe nodded as he headed to Room Four.
As Dixie reached Room One, the x-ray technician was just leaving with films of Chet and Marco to develop. "How are they, Kel?" asked Dixie before they went into the room.
"Well, we figure Marco has got a broken shoulder, some broken ribs; maybe a broken leg. He's drifting in and out of consciousness right now, but his main concern seems to be the others. Chet's still unconscious, with a definite flail chest. The x-rays will tell us more. Any word on the other two?" asked Kel.
"Well, they're just arriving at the heliport now, and they'll be down in a couple of minutes. Joe and Mike will take care of them. Judging from the what we know, Captain Stanley's got a pretty bad head injury, and Stoker's got a severe abdominal injury that will need immediate surgery. I'll check with Johnny and Roy to see if the next of kin have been notified."
"Right, Dix," he said as she left. Kel turned to the nurse who was monitoring Chet's breathing. "How does he look, Sally?" he asked as he checked Marco.
"He's still got paradoxical breathing, but the oxygen seems to have helped it ease up a bit. His pulse is 96, strong and regular; respiration is 26 and shallow; blood pressure is 110 over 85. He is still unconscious and unresponsive."
"Thanks, Sally." Kel leaned next to Marco's ear. "Marco? Can you hear me? Open your eyes, Marco."
Marco stirred and slowly opened his eyes. "Madre de Dios!" he said weakly. "Qué pasa?"
Kel smiled crookedly. "Welcome back to planet Earth, sleeping beauty. How do you feel?"
"Like I was hit by a bus. What happened?" asked Marco.
"What day is it?" asked Kel.
"Tuesday. What happened?" Marco repeated.
"What do you remember?" Kel asked as he checked Marco's pupils.
Marco paused to consider. "We hit something?"
Kel glanced at Sally. "Marco, do you remember the fog?" he tried again.
Marco paled as he finally recalled the events. "SHIT! The engine went over a cliff! Where are the others?" He tried to struggle up, but Kel held him down. "Chet? Mike? Cap?" he shouted.
Chet groaned and said groggily, "Shut up, Marco....Let the dead...rest in peace...Man, my...chest really...hurts..."
Kel turned to him, with a huge smile on his face. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Chet. Does it hurt anywhere besides your chest?" he asked as he checked Chet's pupils.
"I don't...think so...Doctor? What about....Cap...and Mike?" Chet asked nervously.
"They should have just arrived. I'll just go check on them, and be right back. Now, stay awake, you two. Marco, talk to him but don't let him talk."
"Hey!" protested Chet weakly.
Marco grinned despite his pain and said, "Man, what an opportunity not to be missed! I wonder what happened with Cap and Mike. At least they're alive..."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Bring Hank into Room Two, and Mike into Room Four," said Dixie as the elevator doors opened and the two men were wheeled out. Johnny and Roy look like hell, she thought as they accompanied their crewmates into the two rooms.
Roy filled Joe Early in as Hank was taken into Room Two. "...And he hasn't regained consciousness at all. He hasn't had any difficulty breathing or anything, but he's completely unresponsive now -- not even a pain response. His reflexes are good, but..." Roy shrugged.
Joe checked Hank's pupils. By this point, they were only slightly reactive. "Mark," he said to the x-ray technician who had wheeled in the portable x-ray unit, "we'll need a full skull and spine series; better get a chest series, too, just in case. Then they'll need you in Room Four."
"Right, Joe. What happened, Roy?" he asked as he started to position the machine.
"The, um, ...the road had been weakened by the floods and...it was like glass, and, um, the engine just ... the road crumbled and, uh, the engine just went over the edge into a ravine..." said Roy distractedly. His eyes were haunted as he remembered the horror.
"Roy," said Joe, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to look up. "You did everything you could. Nobody can predict what flooding can do."
"Yeah, but..."
"But, nothing. Roy, it was an accident. Nobody could have foreseen it. It's not your fault."
Roy sighed. Joe put his arm around Roy's shoulders and pushed him gently toward the door. "C'mon, Roy, we have to get out and let Mark do his job."
"Yeah. How are the others? Are Chet and Marco here yet? We sent..."
"They're both in Room One. Mike's in Room Four."
Mark snapped his fingers and handed Joe two large envelopes. "That reminds me -- can you give these to Kel? These are Chet and Marco's x-rays. I've been running around so much I don't know whether I'm coming or going."
"Sure, Mark. We'll be back in a couple of minutes."
"Thanks."
They met Kel in the hall, as he was heading to Room Four. Joe handed him the envelopes, saying, "Here's the x-rays for Marco and Chet. How are they doing?"
Kel pulled the x-rays and held them up to the hall lights to glance at them before returning. "Well, they're both conscious -- according to this, Kelly's got a flail chest from four broken ribs. It looks like we'll have to take him up to surgery to repair the damage to the tissues. It doesn't look like he's got a punctured lung, but there seems to be a fair amount of muscle damage here. They're both conscious now, by the way." He looked at Marco's x-rays, shook his head slightly and whistled. "Man, you guys sure have tough bodies. His left shoulder is fractured, and three of his ribs are cracked, nearly all the way through. His left leg appears not to be broken, but I'll need better light than this to be sure." He cracked a grin, and said, "Sally's in with them both. I told Marco to keep talking to Chet but not to let him talk."
Roy attempted a smile. "That'll make Marco's day." He paused, then said, "What about Mike?"
"I don't know, Roy, I was just on the way there. How did he look coming in?"
"Really bad. We got the bleeding under control, but..." Roy left the sentence dangling as Mark pushed the x-ray machine down the hall into Room Four. Mike Morton and a very pale and worried-looking Johnny came into the hallway, and approached the others. Roy looked at Johnny, who looked down, shaking his head, close to tears.
Mike said, "As soon as the x-rays are done, he's on his way up to surgery. I've already talked to the surgeon. He's about as stable as we can make him, but he's critical. I don't know about that arm, though. He might lose it..."
Everyone turned as Johnny blurted out, "NOOO!" Tears were running openly down his face now. Kel said, "Dix, take them into the lounge, okay?" She nodded, and put an arm around Johnny and Roy and steered them toward the lounge. They moved forward like zombies. She glanced back at Kel and nodded as he mouthed the words, ‘Call the psychologist'.
Mark exited the room quickly with the x-rays to develop. "Joe, I'll bring you his x-rays; Mike, I'll have these ones sent right up to surgery."
"Great, Mark."
"Well," said Kel, "Time to put on a brave face. Mike, I can use your help," he continued as two orderlies wheeled Mike Stoker to the elevator.
"Hm? Right, Kel," Mike Morton replied as the doctors returned to their patients.
"Well?" demanded Chet and Marco as the doctors entered the room.
"Let's see," replied Dr. Brackett. "According to these x-rays, Marco, you have a broken left shoulder, three cracked ribs, and a severely bruised leg. Chet, we're going to have to take you to surgery -- you've got four ribs broken in a couple of places each. You'll be heading up in about half an hour."
Marco broke in. "Doc, we want to know about Cap and Mike," he said. "And none of that ‘It's too soon to tell' crap. How are they, really?"
Kel drew in a deep breath. These men have been through life and death together. They really need me to level with them, no matter how hard it is. "I know it sounds like a cliché, but it really is too soon to tell. At the moment, Mike is in surgery. We don't know how much damage there is, but he has a very severe abdominal wound. He's also suffered severe damage to his left arm. Cap... he has a head injury, and he's still unconscious right now. We can't tell how bad it is until we see the x-rays. Now I know it's hard to wait, but we really don't know any more than that right now. We will keep you informed."
Marco said, "Thanks for leveling with us, Doc."
Chet echoed. "Yeah, thanks. Where... are Roy and Johnny?" he asked.
Kel pursed his lips, then lied through his teeth. "They're handling some paperwork right now. They'll be by to see you as soon as they can, but we need a full report of things to set up treatment plans."
Dr. Morton raised his eyebrows but said nothing as Kel shot him a fierce glance.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chief McConakee entered the lounge, accompanied by Rampart's Staff Psychologist. Johnny was pacing angrily, and Roy was sitting glumly staring off into space.
"Hello, boys," began the Chief.
"Chief!" said Johnny, stopping his pacing. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to check on you guys, and let you know that you're stood down for the rest of the shift, and the next two shifts -- longer, if you need it." He paused, then asked bluntly, "Have the next-of-kin been notified?"
Roy looked up like he'd been stung. Johnny replied angrily, "No, Chief -- we've been a little busy! I mean, we've got our whole shift in critical condition for one reason or another -- Marco's probably going to be spending the rest of his life in the plaster room, Chet's on his way to surgery now and we have no idea how badly he's injured, Cap's in a goddamn coma, Mike may lose his arm, if he manages to survive surgery... we've had a few other things on our minds!"
Roy said, "Johnny! Calm down!
"It's all right, Roy," replied McConakee. "You both have to deal with what happened today, in whatever way suits you best. This is Sharon Nickerson. She's a Staff Psychologist here at Rampart. She's here to help you. I know the accident was terrible, and I hate to do this to you both, but we need to get in touch with the families before the media gets to them. I hope you understand why we have to do this." He glanced at Johnny.
"I'm sorry, Chief," he said, flopping into a chair. "I don't usually act this stupid. I don't know what came over me. We haven't had the chance to notify anyone."
"Don't worry about it, Johnny. We'll take care of that. Do you two feel up to talking to Chet and Marco right now? They've been asking about you -- and about Mike and Hank. Doctor Brackett told them what happened, but you'd better check with him to find out how much he said. They're still in Treatment One, but they're due to be moved soon. So, if you're up to it?" he left the question hanging.
Roy and Johnny got to their feet. Roy looked at Johnny and said, "You okay, Junior?"
"Yeah, Pally, let's go talk to the guys." They shook Sharon's hand and the Chief's and said they'd be back in a few minutes.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chief McConakee looked speculatively at Sharon and asked, "Well?"
She gestured to him to sit down. "Fairly typical, especially given what I know about the two of them. It's going to take a long time for them to get over this, particularly the guilt feelings."
He looked confused. "Why should they feel guilty? Their care was second to none -- very few people could have handled things that well..."
She shook her head. "Not guilt about the treatment they performed, although they'll always ‘second-guess' themselves. That's part of what makes them so conscientious. No, I'm talking about guilt that the engine went over the edge of the cliff. I know it sounds strange, but in many cases like this, the people who managed to go through a dangerous situation only to have someone get hurt or killed right after them can get so obsessed with the idea of ‘There but for the Grace of God go I', that they can't really do anything without having the horror resurface again and again. I've seen people who were so obsessed that they could no longer function at anything. Some people, when faced with tragedy, try to bottle everything up inside. If that keeps happening, without any release, they can blow up like a pressure cooker. The main idea, here, is to let them vent their grief and guilt in any way that helps them to deal with everything that has happened. For the next little while, they'll be confused, bewildered, angry, scared, despairing, in denial -- maybe some of these feelings, maybe all of them. What happens to their friends and crewmates, and their recovery, will be very influential on what course the grieving takes. From what the doctors and nurses here have told me, this group is a lot closer than many families are. So, everything is magnified out of proportion. I'll be here as long as they need me to be, and we always have someone by the telephone at the department."
He shook her hand and heaved a sigh of relief. "Thanks a lot. This is too much for any of us to deal with. Excuse me, but I have a lot of difficult phone calls to make."
She smiled. "Just remember, Chief, you're part of this ‘brotherhood' too -- they're all part of your family, and we're here when you need to talk."
"I'll remember that -- I may take you up on your offer in the next couple of days."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Johnny and Roy poked their heads into Room One.
"Is it safe to come in?" asked Johnny.
"Hey, mi amigo -- you're a sight for sore eyes -- and other parts, too," replied Marco.
"How are you guys feeling?" asked Roy tentatively.
"Well, now that I've got all these painkillers in me, I couldn't feel a truck hit me. It's going to be pretty bad when it wears off. From what Dr. Brackett said, I'm going to be in plaster for a while," sighed Marco.
"How ‘bout you, Chet?" asked Johnny.
"They tell me... I'm going to surgery soon... Man, I wish Cassie was here...."Chet trailed off as the anesthetic took effect.
Sally took another set of vital signs from Chet, nodded and updated his chart. She nodded slightly to Roy and Johnny, and called the OR on the phone. "Joy? Hi, it's Sally. Yes, he's out now. Right. Thanks. Bye." She turned to the others in the room and said, "They'll be down for him in a couple of minutes. Marco, the plaster room will be ready for you in about ten minutes. When they've finished putting on the casts, you'll be going up to a room."
"Thanks, Sally. Man, I wish there was news on the others," Marco said impatiently.
"Us, too. We'll be by to visit you later, once you're settled, Marco. Maybe we'll have some news then. You take it easy," said Roy.
"Yeah, take it easy, pal," repeated Johnny, wincing involuntarily at Cap's favourite expression.
As they left the treatment room, Roy gasped and said, "Joanne! This is probably all over the news by now. I'd better give her a call and fill her in."
"I'll just check to see if there's any more word on Cap, then meet you in the lounge," said Johnny. Man, I'm glad the Chief is making those telephone calls. I don't know how I'd handle it. I guess rank may have its privileges, but there's a lot of hard things, too, thought Johnny.
Johnny went into Room Two, where Mark had just delivered the x-rays to Joe Early. He slotted them into the light boxes and examined them. "Shit," he muttered under his breath.
"What is it, Doc?" asked Johnny anxiously.
Joe pointed to one of the x-rays. "It would appear that our good captain has a linear skull fracture. There is no sign of intercranial bleeding at the moment, but that may develop within the next few hours or couple of days. We'll have to get him up to the ICU right away, where he can be monitored continually." He telephoned the ICU to tell them the situation and to request some orderlies. He looked over at Johnny, who was sitting on the edge of the counter with his hands cupped around his nose and chin. "How are you handling things?" he asked.
"Oh, God, Doc... it's just too much. I...I can't take in any more now. What about.... what about Mike Stoker?" Johnny asked wearily.
"I'm sorry, Johnny, we haven't heard anything yet. He'll probably be in surgery for a while, though."
Two orderlies came into the room to take Hank up to the ICU. Just before they left with Captain Stanley, Johnny leaned over his unmoving form, picked up his hand and squeezed it, saying, "Come back to us, Cap. For God's sake, Hank, don't let us get stuck with Captain Hook!" He dropped Hank's hand as he was wheeled out of the room. Joe clapped him on the shoulder, saying, "Buy you a cup of coffee? We could both use one now."
Johnny allowed himself to be led to the lounge. As they entered, they heard the tail-end of Roy's call to Joanne.
"...Yeah, hon. Thanks. Thank Marcie for taking all the kids, too. The Chief is getting in touch with the other families -- I really need you here now. Okay, see you soon. Bye. I love you."
"Hey, Roy, you want some coffee?" asked Joe as he poured a couple of mugs.
"Huh? What? Oh, yeah, sure," answered Roy. He didn't seem to realize that the hand that took the mug was shaking violently. He spilled most of the coffee on the floor. "Damn! Here, let me get something to clean that up," he said, putting the mug on the table and fetching a towel.
Johnny took in a deep breath and let it out audibly. "Roy," he said reluctantly, "Cap's skull is fractured, where he hit the windshield."
Roy straightened up slowly and threw the rag violently at the wall. "DAMMIT!" he said violently. The rag narrowly missed Chief McConakee as he entered. "Sorry, Chief," said Roy sullenly.
"It's okay, Roy, I understand. Mind, if you had connected...." said the Chief, with a twisted smile.
That relieved the tension of the moment. Roy and Johnny both flopped onto the couch and leaned back with sheepish smiles.
"Okay," continued Chief McConakee. "Here's the situation. I've got men going to pick up Sandi Stanley, Peggy Stoker, Maria and Rosita Lopez. Cassie Kelly is on the way over from Station 18. Your sister-in-law, Marcie, is taking care of your kids and the Stanleys' kids. Squad 51 has been dropped off at the Station, so when you two are ready to go home, we'll get someone to drop you off to pick up your cars. As I said before, you're off duty for the next week. I know you don't want to hear this, but as soon as you both feel ready, I'll need a report of the incident. Take as much time as you need. Now, is there anything that you boys need?"
"No, thanks, Chief. You've pretty well covered the bases," answered Roy. "But, if you've got any miracles up your sleeve, we could sure use some about now."
"I'll do my best. Don't forget about Sharon Nickerson. She's here to help. We're planning to have a Critical Incident Stress Debriefing within the next two or three days. I'll expect you to be there."
"Right, whatever," replied Johnny apathetically.
"I'll see you boys later," said Chief McConakee as he left the room.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
To be continued..........
