Keep Talking, Chet

by Jane Woods

Chet felt Marco tug on his sleeve and he turned around to look at him.

"Face it, Chet. We're lost." Marco's voice was muffled behind his mask.

Chet looked up and down the hallway. Each door had been chalked meaning they had already checked it. This place was like a labyrinth. They seemed to be going in circles. He hated doing sweeps looking for victims. He didn't know how Gage and DeSoto did this all the time. They were one floor above them doing the same thing in the basement. He and Marco had drawn the sub-basement to check out. He'd rather be upstairs fighting the fire with the other three companies that were battling the inferno. At least then he could follow the hose back outside if he had to. But not all the scientists were accounted for outside so someone had to look for them. The people that worked in these labs must have had some kind of code to find their way around. Every hall and every door were identical to every other one as near as he could tell. "I think we checked them all. All we got to do is get back to the stairway and go back up," he told Marco.

"So where's the stairway?" There was a touch of panic in Marco's voice. They both knew that the alarms in their regulators were due to go off at any second then they would have only minutes of breathable air left. The fire upstairs had filled the whole place with any number of lethal toxins.

"It's got to be around here someplace. We didn't mark it. Just look for the door with no chalk on it."

"Why didn't I think of that?" Marco asked sarcastically. It was what he had been doing for the last ten minutes.

Before Chet could make a snappy comeback there was a distinctive rumble over head. They both knew what it was. There was no time to even run. They both crouched down into a fetal position and covered their heads with their arms. They each wanted to be as small a target as possible since the entire ceiling was caving in!

***

On the floor above them Roy and Johnny were having no better luck finding anyone. They had, however, found their staircase and were in the stairwell when the ceiling collapsed. The force with which the floor buckled ripped the fittings of the metal staircase loose and it crashed down to the bottom landing. Both Roy and Johnny were knocked off their feet. They grabbed onto the steps, the railings, anything they could and rode the staircase to the floor below.

The jolt it hit with was bone jarring but luckily the heavy metal stair case remained intact. It took a minute for the dust to settle. "You alright?" Roy asked Johnny. His voice sounded far more weak and shaky than he intended it to. He could not help but rub the shoulder he'd crashed into the staircase with. Though his mask muffled the sound, Roy could hear Johnny coughing. He turned Johnny so he could see him more clearly. There were blood droplets on the inside of his mask. "Johnny, are you all right?"

"Yeah," Johnny gasped, still coughing, "I just bit my lip. I could probably stop it if I took my mask off."

"No. You'd better leave it on -- at least as long as we have air in our tanks." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his handy talkie. "Hope this still works. Squad 51 to Engine 51."

"Roy, are you guys all right?!" The fact that the cap broke protocol attested to the fact that he was about to lose it.

"A little battered but we'll be okay. What the hell happened anyway?"

"The first floor caved in. Where are you?"

"We're in the stairwell -- or what's left of it."

"Please tell me that Kelly and Lopez are with you."

"No, Cap. Didn't they come up yet? My regulator alarm just sounded. They must be in the same boat."

"Roy," Johnny looked wide-eyed and pale. "They were a floor beneath us!"

"Look. Sit tight, guys. I'll send you some fresh tanks. The air is really bad up here."

"Bring four tanks, Cap. We'll go find Chet and Marco," Johnny insisted.

Roy looked down at the destruction below them. If Chet and Marco had not gotten out before the collapse he didn't really hold out much hope for them. He knew Johnny though, and he'd never buy that line of reasoning.

They were both on their last traces of air when the door that was now far over their heads was forced opened.

"You guys okay?" A guy from 36 hollered down.

"Just stuck," Roy called back up while still trying to conserve air.

"I thought they said four air tanks. I only see two of you."

"We're going back for the others," Johnny called up. "Go ahead and lower them down to us."

The guy shrugged and lowered the four tanks down via rope. "Give a holler when you're ready and we'll pull you all out of there."

"Sure thing," Roy called then eagerly breathed in fresh air from the new tank. He had just run out and he had a suspicion that Johnny had run out before he had judging from how flushed he was when he pulled off the old mask. His lip was still bleeding. It almost looked as though he had bitten clean through it. Roy handed him his folded up handkerchief.

"Is it clean?" Johnny tried to grin but that hurt his lip.

"I don't think you can be fussy, Junior."

"Yes I can." Johnny took it and held it to his lip for a minute in between breaths from his mask. He eventually just put the mask on and got shakily to his feet. He and Roy make their way down to the door of the floor they had searched. The damage from the roof collapse was fairly minimal in the stairwell other than the fact that the staircase had come loose and fallen. They continued on down what was left of the staircase to the sub-basement. There was even more debris here which slowed their progress down quite a bit. They had to move several large chunks before they could even see the door.

***

Chet was sure the rumbling should have stopped by now. It seemed to be hours since it had begun. He suspected it actually may have stopped and the roaring in his ears was the sound of his own blood pounding. "Proves you're alive anyway, Kelly," he said to himself. Finally when he could no longer feel the shaking that had followed the initial rumble he dared open his eyes. That did almost no good since it was dark. His eyes adjusted a little and he could make out some of his surroundings. Strange looking shapes surrounded him. He reached out to feel around. He desperately wanted to change his position. His cramps were getting cramps.

He determined that there was room for him to stand up if he bent over. That relieved his legs but made his back ache. Soon he had another problem. He was out of air. He could tell that he was up against a door. Since his back was now killing him and since he was no longer able to hold his breath he pushed the door opened. Miraculously emergency lighting had cut on in this room and it had taken less damage than the hallway had. He hoped that the air was better too because he had to ditch his tank. He hesitantly took in a few breaths and hoped that all the toxic gasses that had been in evidence upstairs were lighter than air and were only affecting the upper floors. He shrugged out of the tank. Boy that made his back feel a lot better. He looked out in the hallway again now that he could see something using the light from the room.

The destruction was pretty total. He hardly recognized it even as a hallway. There were barely any doors even showing anymore. Ceiling tiles and other debris were piled up almost to what should have been the ceiling of this floor. He could now look up several floors. It reminded him of pictures he'd seen of buildings that had been bombed or had been through a major earthquake.

Then he looked down at what he could see of the floor. Suddenly he saw something that made his heart literally skip a bit. "Jesus! Marco!"

Marco had not been missed by the debris as he had. He was still curled up in a fetal position but he wasn't moving. Carefully Chet pulled things off of him. He moaned when Chet touched his shoulder but he did not come to.

Since things occasionally still fell in the hallway Chet chanced cautiously pulling Marco into the room with him. He cut his tank off and removed his mask and helmet. He seemed to breathe a little easier but he was still deeply unconscious. Chet knew he needed medical attention.

"We're in kind of a mess here, Pal," Chet told him. It was hard to believe that there were three companies fighting a fire a few floors above them. It felt like they were the only two people in the world. He wondered how long it would be before they were missed. "Hang in there, Marco. Help's on the way. It's gotta be."

Chet tried to make him comfortable without moving him any more than necessary. He did seem to be having some trouble breathing. He finally decided to chance sitting him up a little. There was nothing stable looking enough to lean him against so he just leaned him up against his own chest.

Marco groaned painfully.

"Yeah, I know, Pal. It hurts. You gotta breathe though. They'll be here real soon. Can you understand me? Shit, I wish I hadn't a flunked high school Spanish. It wasn't completely my fault though, I had the damn class first thing in the morning. And besides there was this girl -- Tracy Anne Manning. What a looker, she was. And she sat right next to me. Wonder what ever happened to her. So tell me, Marco, who did you have a crush on in high school? Who did you flunk Spanish for -- well, okay not Spanish but --hey what the hell is this?" He felt something in Marco's pocket. He pulled out what was left of a handy talkie. They had been given some sort of designation when they were issued the thing but he couldn't remember what it was. Marco had the unit he was the one who knew what it was. Search something. What the hell was the number? He was going to go ahead and try it -- not that it would probably work anyway. It was partially crushed.

***

It took quite a while to get the rubble removed from the door to the sub-basement. Roy's sore shoulder was really bothering him but he tried to hide the fact from Johnny. Johnny was moving at breakneck speed to clear the debris and he was definitely falling behind. He leaned against the wall to rest for a minute.

"Come on, Roy. We gotta move! They're running out of air!"

"You will be too if you don't take it easy."

Johnny looked at him curiously. "What are you not saying?"

"Nothing. It's just that ---"

"Just what? You're not giving up on them, are you?! Roy, you can't! We're their only hope. We're almost through to the door ---"

"Then what, Johnny? What guarantee do you have that the other side of the door isn't just as blocked as this side?" Roy hadn't meant to say it.

"Roy! This isn't like you. Are you sure you're all right. You do look a little pale now that I look at you."

"And you're looking pretty flushed if you want to know the truth!"

They glared at each other for a minute then Johnny grinned "Come on, Paleface. This Redskin ain't gonna do all the work."

"Slave driver," Roy groaned dramatically. Johnny was right. They couldn't give up no matter how hopeless it looked.

Suddenly the handy talkie in Roy's pocket crackled. He pulled it out. The sound was distorted but it was definitely Chet's voice.

"Can anyone hear me?"

Roy and Johnny grinned at each other. Not exactly protocol but Chet definitely sounded alive.

"This is Squad 51, come in," Roy tried to remind him of the phrase he was supposed to be using.

"Come in somebody," Chet's voice repeated.

Again Roy tried to hail him.

"I don't think he's receiving," Johnny said.

"Look, if anybody is copying this. I'm Kelly from 51. Lopez and I are in the sub-basement. Lopez is hurt and we need help! Damn it! This piece of shit is useless. Come in, Enterprise! Beam us the hell out of here. Crap!"

"He's losin' it," Johnny said simply. He began moving rubble with even more vigor. Roy helped him and ignored his sore shoulder.

Finally they cleared the door enough to open it. One of the hinges had been ruined but they got it opened enough to climb through.

"God!" Johnny gasped, "Where the hell are they in this mess?"

"CHET," Roy called. "CHET, WHERE ARE YOU?"

***

Chet was running out of things to discuss with Marco. He'd thrown the handy talkie across the room. It made him feel better for a few minutes. He had taken off his turnout coat and put it over Marco as best he could. He knew he had to be kept warm. He wished he knew what else to do for him. "Don't you even think about cashing in your chips, you bastard. Not after all I've done for you. You owe me, Pal. You just keep on breathing and maybe we'll call it even. Plus it's your turn to cook. Don't think you can get out of it that easy. No sir! If you think I'm gagging down any more of the cap's damn clam chowder or Gage's -- whatever the hell it is and I don't even want to discuss Stoker or DeSoto's sacrificial offerings. No sir, you and I are the only two in the whole damn station that can cook and I'm sure as hell not about to do all the cooking. You can just take that to the bank!"

He was very stiff. He wanted to shift Marco's weight a little but every time he tried to move him it seemed to cause the other man pain. "WHERE THE HELL IS EVERYONE?" he yelled. He didn't expect to be heard but he did really feel the need to yell. Marco was looking worse and worse. He had no idea what they might be breathing in but at least Marco was still breathing.

***

"Hear that?" Johnny asked.

"No, what?"

"CHET," Johnny hollered. "Where are you?"

"Is somebody there?" It sounded muffled and far away but it was Chet.

Johnny grinned. "Never thought I'd say this but keep talking, Chet."

"Har har har, Gage, You bastard! Hurry up! The door's open -- you can't miss us!"

They could barely see the doors but the tops of most were visible and they were shut. Johnny had a flashlight and played it down the hallway. "Can you see my light, Chet?"

"Not from here. I can't move."

There was a note of desperation in Chet's voice that they both heard. He had said Marco was hurt. They hadn't counted on him being trapped although judging from the looks of the hallway it shouldn't have surprised them. They made their way through and over the rubble.

"Over here, Johnny." Roy made out the top of a door and it was opened.

With renewed strength they cleared the doorway. They each picked up one of the air tanks and crawled through the opening they made and into the room.

"Hurry! He can't breathe!" Chet was on the verge of panicking.

"Sit still. Let us check him out," Johnny told him.

"He's in bad shape, isn't he?" Chet asked fearfully.

Johnny had put his ear close to listen to Marco's lungs as best he could.

"Punctured lung?" Roy asked.

"Could very well be. Ribs are way out of alignment and I'd bet anything on a broken clavicle. He been out the whole time?"

"Yeah. I -ah - I couldn't do much to help him. He sounded worse lying down so I sat him --up."

"You did the right thing, Chet. We can't do much for him here either. We gotta get him out of here. Johnny, let's bust the legs off of this table and try and make a backboard out of it," Roy said.

As soon as the makeshift backboard was ready Johnny and Roy carefully lifted Marco onto it.

"Ahhhhhhhh"

"Careful, you guys!" Chet growled at them.

Once he was flat on his back Roy put the new mask over his face he started to come around. "Ahhhh, Roy?"

"You're okay, Marco. We're going to get you out of here. Just relax."

"Thirsty..." Marco gasped.

"We'll get a drink once we're topside," Roy promised.

Johnny had been ripping a linen cloth into strips. It had once been used to cover the table that they had also pressed into service. They used part of it to immobilize Marco's arm and part of it to secure him to the board. Roy had given Chet his tank and helped him put the mask on. He looked pretty beat.

The ceiling in this room was starting to look pretty saggy. The weight of the water that was being used to fight the fire was collecting up there.

"Okay, Chet, you help Roy. He has a bum shoulder. Let's get out of here," Johnny said.

Chet wanted to object just on general principles but he really didn't have the strength. It took over fifteen minutes to walk back to the stairwell. Marco was gritting his teeth against the pain that the motion was causing him.

Once they were in the stairwell they were able to get a stokes lowered for Marco. Johnny climbed up with him and he sent two guys down to assist Roy and Chet. Someone else grabbed the other end of the stokes and they got Marco outside. He had passed out again.

The cap met them by the squad and grabbed the equipment. Soon Roy and Chet stumbled out of the building also.

"Are you guys all right?" he asked nervously.

Cap," Chet yawned, "if you ever send us to do that again I'm gonna pop you one."

"Excuse me?"

"Cap, he was out of air. No telling what he breathed in. He doesn't know what he's saying," Johnny thought quickly. Boy, did Chester B owe him now.

"Then I trust he was the lunatic playing Star Trek on the handy talkie. We were only catching snatches of the transmission."

"That would be him, Cap," Johnny grinned.

"Well, then I guess we can forgive it -- I'm not saying forget it, just forgive it," the cap grinned also. They could get plenty of mileage out of this one.

***

The next morning Stoker and the cap were visiting the hospital room the rest of the crew was occupying. Roy, Johnny and Chet had been kept for observation since they had all breathed in unknown gasses. Roy had a sprained shoulder and Johnny had 7 stitches in his lower lip. Chet and Marco were both dehydrated. Marco had a broken clavicle and 3 broken ribs. His lung had been severely bruised but not punctured. He was on enough medication that he was actually feeling better than the others. Chet was sleeping off whatever had affected his judgment. Johnny had actually thought he had made that up.

"It was weird," Marco said. "I kept feeling like I was floating but I kept hearing Chet talking and talking. Man, I just wanted him to shut up so I could sleep but he was going on about some girl he knew in high school and how he hates everyone's cooking. I thought he'd flipped out for sure."

"He'd flipped out alright. He threatened to pop the cap," Johnny laughed and regretted it immediately. "Ahhh"

"You're not supposed to talk, Johnny," Roy reminded him. He knew it would do no good at all. He just closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillow. He'd probably get more rest at home. At least Joanne could keep the kids quiet. Nothing would stop this bunch from yakking. Part of him wanted to be annoyed but most of him was pretty glad they were all around to annoy him. He dozed off  listening to the others plot their revenge on Chet. As usual his mouth had gotten him into trouble but his incessant gabbing had also come in handy this time.

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