by Karen Hobbs
The call was to a warehouse fire, a big one. Station 51 had responded with Station 10 and Engines 136 and 127. When Charlie from Squad 10 had to escort an injured firefighter to hospital, the Battalion Chief in charge had ordered John Gage to the other side of the building to assist Charlie's partner Dwyer. The Chief was aware that his paramedic resource at the fire scene was inadequate, but it was Saturday night, they were fully stretched and there was nothing else he could do.
John looked up to see a young probationary fire-fighter come running out of the building, waving his arms dramatically. John grabbed hold of him.
"Hey man, what's the panic?" he asked
The young fire-fighter tried to get his breath mask off, John reached over and removed the guy's helmet and released the top strap.
"It's Dobson, he's in trouble, I gotta get help!!" the youngster cried, wild-eyed.
"Calm down," John commanded reaching for his own breathing apparatus. "Now whereabouts is he?"
"In there," the fire-fighter cried, waving a hand in the general direction of the building. John sighed, this kid had really lost it, probably his first real big one.
"Can you lead me to him?" he asked, but the youngster was already running away to try and contact some of his own crew members.
Quickly, John donned his breathing apparatus, there was no time to lose, a fire-fighter’s life might depend on it, he would just have to go in himself and hope that he could find the trapped man.Switching on his flashlight, he made his way into the burning building
Suddenly with a splintering crash the floor gave way, John found himself falling. He reached out desperately trying to grab onto something to stop his fall, but his hand slipped, leaving his glove behind. His right leg caught on something sharp on the way down and exploded into pain. John hit the ground hard, he lay there for a moment to catch his breath. He looked up, high above, him he could see sheets of flames playing over the jagged edges of the hole. Burning debris started to fall, John knew he had to get out of the way and fast. A narrow pipe led off to the side, John could see that he wouldn't be able to access the pipe wearing his breathing apparatus. He unclipped the harness and ripped the mask off, letting them fall to the floor and dived inside the pipe just as a large beam came crashing down behind him.
He gasped as hot pokers of pain shot up his injured right leg, he could feel the warm stickiness of blood but knew he had no way of staunching the flow. John had lost his flashlight in the fall so he couldn't see where he was he could tell by the smell, however, that the pipe had something to do with the drains.
He knew that there was no chance of anyone finding or hearing him down here. Smoke started to fill the entrance to the pipe. Coughing, John started to crawl along the pipe, the only chance he had was to follow the pipe to wherever it connected to the outside. Slowly and painfully he inched his way along in pitch blackness, he hoped to God that he wouldn't encounter any rats or other nasty little creatures on his journey. He shuddered, he wished he hadn't thought of that scenario.
***
Up above, the fire-fighters were at last getting the situation under control.
"Chet, you seen Johnny?" Roy DeSoto called to Chet Kelly who was hauling in a inch-and-a-half hose line across the warehouse forecourt.
"Not for a while," Chet replied. "I thought he was with you"
Roy frowned, it was unlike Johnny not to check in. Perhaps he was dealing with fire casualties on the other side of the building. Roy knew that paramedics from other stations had been called into this blaze, perhaps someone else needed extra assistance or John had escorted a casulty to hospital. He sighed and return his attention to bandaging the burnt hand of the fire-fighter in front of him.
It wasn't until the fire crews started to reel in their hoses and pack away their equipment that it became apparent that John Gage was missing. Captain Stanley assembled the crew of Station 51, his face grim.
"Men, we have a problem. Gage is missing," he started. Although tired, the men automatically became alert; each wore a worried expression, they knew the implications of that statement.
"Shall we instigate a search Cap?" Moreno asked.
"Yes, I think that would be wise," Captain Stanley replied. "But be careful in there, the building's unsafe and I don't want any casualties."
The crew split up to cover the building, each carefully looking through the fire damaged interior, hoping to find their colleague, but at the same time hoping not to. With all the activity that had gone on at the site over the last few hours, the only reason for someone's disappearance would be their death in the blaze.
Half an hour later, the crew of Station 51 reassembled next to the fire truck, all had drawn a blank. Captain Stanley sighed, he knew that his next command would not go down well with his crew and he braced himself for the protests that would follow, he had to call off the search and return to the Station.
"Stop looking! But that's Johnny out there!" Chet exclaimed
"We can't leave him, he could be hurt," Marco protested
Captain Stanley held up his hand for silence. "Men, I appreciate your feelings on this. do you think I'm happy about it? But we've searched the building and drawn a blank. I can't justify keeping us here any longer. All we can hope it that he's ended up at one of the hospitals and is making his way back to the station."
"Well I hope he's got the coffee on then," Chet quipped, but no one felt inclined to laugh.
The crew grimly climbed onto the fire truck and drove slowly away. Roy made his way back to the Squad, he paused for a moment surveying the fire scene. The Captain was right, there was nothing more they could do here tonight.
***
John couldn't tell how long he had been crawling along the pipe. He grimaced each time his unprotected right hand encountered something slimy, when he got out of here he was going to spend some serious time under a hot shower.
Suddenly the front of his helmet hit something, "Damn," John swore, fearing a dead end. A brief sweep of his hands in front of him, however, merely indicated that the ceiling was somewhat lower here. John eased himself onto his stomach, it was going to be a tight fit but not impossible, at least not to someone who had no other choice.
Time passed slowly as John inched his way along the pipe, the stench was starting to get unbearable now that his face was so much nearer to the sludge that coated the bottom of the pipe. He stopped for a moment to gather his strength and to ease the cramps in his shoulders, although he couldn't see his wound he knew that he was still losing blood, he was starting to feel a little light-headed. He took a deep breath, then nearly choked on the smell, after he had recovered he started again, only to be brought up abruptly as his turnout coat caught on something in the roof of the pipe, no amount of shuffling backwards or forwards seemed to be able to free it. To add to the gravity of the situation, John became aware that the water level in the pipe was starting to rise, was he doomed to drown hung up in his turnout gear? He struggled more firecely trying to unhook himself but to no avail.
"Shit," John swore vehemently, now what was he going to do, he thought for a moment and then with great difficulty in the confined space he managed to unclip the top two catches of the coat, keeping his arms outstretched he wriggled backwards, his arms slid out of the coat, then putting his arms through the neck he pushed himself forwards again leaving the turnout coat suspended.
"Oh well, if Chet can lose his badge, I can lose my jacket," he thought.
The water level was starting to cover his legs, John gasped as the water contacted with his wound. Suddenly he realised that the air was getting fresher, was the end of this nightmare in sight? He was also aware that his helmet was no longer hitting the roof of the pipe, gingerly he eased himself onto his knees. He crawled forward only to be brought up short by some bars covering the entrance. The pipe had widened out at this point and John found that he was able to shuffle around so that his feet were pointing outwards, he leant back and gave the bars a couple of good kicks, gritting his teeth against the pain, as he expected they were badly corroded and gave way quite easily.
John crawled out of the pipe and into the fresh air determined to get as far away from the accursed pipe as possible. He found himself hyperventilating, sucking in great lungfuls of the sweet night air as if it was some sort of drug. He forced himself to calm down and regulate his breathing to a more acceptable level. As he had suspected from the rise in water level, it was raining outside, he let the rain wash away the stench and grime that covered him. He took his fire helmet off and held it out into the torrent, he tipped it out over his head relishing the coldness of the water as it washed over his face. The second helmetful he drank greedily, his thirst overcoming any fears regarding the water quality. John tried to stand, but collapsed as his right leg gave way in an explosion of pain. He threw his helmet away in a fit of disgust at his own physical limitations.
The water level continued to rise as the rain continued to pour down, John realised that he needed to move to higher ground. He was unable to see much in the dark, but he guessed that he was in the drainage ditch that ran along the side of the highway in this area. Dragging his right leg, he made his way to the side hoping to find an easy route upwards, but the sides of the ditch were too steep and muddy.
Slowly he stumbled onwards, somewhere the bank must flatten out. At last he found an area where a recent mud slide had eroded the side of the ditch. It seemed to take hours, but finally John hauled himself up onto the gravel that edged the highway and passed out.
***
Roy woke early that morning, he couldn’t sleep knowing that his friend and partner was missing. His wife, Joanne, stirred in her sleep, she woke as he climbed out of bed and started to get dressed.
“Roy, where are you going?” she asked sleepily.
“Out. Don’t worry. Go back to sleep,” Roy said quietly, Joanne squinted at the bedside clock.
“But it’s 5.30 in the morning!” she protested.
“I know,” Roy replied. “Now go back to sleep. I’ll be back soon."
“It’s Johnny, isn’t it? You’re going to look for him,” Joanne said. She knew that Roy thought of John as the kid brother he never had.
Roy nodded.
Joanne reached out and took his hand. “Just be careful,” she counselled
“I will,” Roy promised, kissing her forehead.
***
Roy drove swiftly back to the ruin of the warehouse, where the
incidents of the previous night had occurred. He had been taken
off duty as soon as they had returned to the Station. The others
were still there continuing with their shift. He picked his way
gingerly over the blackened ruins, hoping that he might find John
somewhere. He checked around the outside of the building in case
John was lying injured in the long grass which lay around the car
park. He wasn’t. Roy shrugged and
once again entered the building, looking for a clue, anything
which might indicate the fate of his partner, he refused to
believe that John could have just died without leaving a trace.
Roy carefully made his way over the ground floor of the building, it was hard work, the roof had partially caved in and debris was scattered all over the floor. Climbing over one heap of rubble and twisted roof supports, Roy nearly fell into a hole in the floor. He shone his torch around to try and get an idea of the size of the aperture and there dangling on the jagged timbers of the floorboards was a glove, the type of protective handgear worn by a fire-fighter. Roy bent forward and picked it up, he looked inside the cuff the word ‘GAGE’ was clearly written inside.
“Johnny!” Roy called. He shone his torch downwards, squinting to see how deep the hole was and where it led. A lot of roof debris had fallen into the hole, Roy hoped that his partner wasn’t trapped beneath it. His torchlight glinted on something metallic, Roy could make out the outline of breathing apparatus. Of course, John would have been wearing full mask and tanks before he had ventured into the building that was Department procedure. By the lie of the tanks, however, Roy could tell that they had been abandoned by John, perhaps as a necessity to escape. The bottom of the hole seemed to be some form of drainage tunnel and it was Roy’s guess that John had ditched his air tanks in order to access the tunnel and escape the fall of burning debris from above. The question was where was he now? Was he lying injured just inside the tunnel or had he crawled along the tunnel until it emerged into the world again?
Roy tried to put himself into his partners shoes. What would he have done in that situation having just fallen through a floor, possibly sustaining injuries, with burning debris falling down and no way of summoning help? The smoke down there would have been pretty bad, and without breathing apparatus, Roy concluded that he would have tried to get as far away from the blaze as possible to avoid being overcome by smoke. If the pipe had led nowhere after a certain time he would have returned to the entrance and hoped that he could have found some way back out.
***
Roy crossed the highway, if he was correct the drainage channel should emerge somewhere along the side of the road. He located the concrete opening to the pipe and, attaching one end of the rope he carried to the metal guard rail at the side of the road, made his way down into the ditch. The water level had risen to a good 10 inches due to the overnight rain. Roy examined the tunnel opening and to his delight he saw that the grille covering the entrance had been broken and from the lie of the damage from the inside! Johnny must have made it out.
"Johnny!" Roy called, his voice echoing off the concrete walls. There was no response. Roy turned and started to make his way along the ditch, grateful that he was wearing his fireboots. He had gone about 400 yards when he saw something familiar lying at the side of the channel. Roy rushed forward, it was John's firehelmet, its '51' barely visible through the mud that now coated it. Roy picked it up "Johnny!" he called. Again there was no reply, only the sound of animals, disturbed by his shout.
Roy sighed, he knew that his partner was out here, but where? Roy looked around, the banks here were steep, but not unclimbable. He started to climb, but the bank had been made too slippery by the overnight rain, with every stride he took he slid down. Roy could only hope that John had had more luck earlier.
Roy made his way back to his car, he threw his muddy boots into the trunk and then started up the highway, keeping in the nearside lane at a crawling pace. Luckily at this time of the morning there wasn't any other traffic on the road, but Roy switched on his hazard lights just in case.
“This is stupid,” Roy said to himself. “If Johnny had made it up here, he would have been picked up hours ago. Perhaps I should have rung the hospital first”
“Nonsense,” his second inner voice replied crossly. “If there had been any news they would have rung you, you are his partner after all”
The road started to bend and up ahead there there appeared to be something lying on the ground at the side of the road, although from this distance, it looked like something had been dumped there. It wasn’t until he had nearly driven past that Roy realised that the heap was Johnny, lying face down by the side of the road. He slammed on the brakes and ran back to his partner.
“Johnny, Johnny, can you hear me?” he called, as he gently rolled him over.
"Hey, Partner, give me a sign," he urged as he wiped the dirt from John's face and slid his hand onto John's wrist to get a pulse, it was there albeit weak, at least he was alive.
John felt himself being turned over and then as if through cotton wool the familiar sound of Roy's voice. His eyelids felt as though they were held down with lead weights, but he forced them to open.
"Roy?" he whispered, his voice had a rasp to it. “Is that you?”
Roy sighed with relief. "If this is your idea of camping, Pal, I think I'll pass," he commented.
John managed a wan smile. He tried to sit up but just didn’t have the strength.
“Easy, Pal, don’t move,” Roy counselled. “So where does it hurt?” he asked.
"Everywhere," John croaked, as his body started to wake up so did all the aches and pains associated with his recent ordeal. “My right leg mainly”
Roy examined the leg of John turnout trousers and took out his scissors and cut thrugh the wet muddy fabric to expose John’s leg. The wound looked nasty, jagged, dirty and still oozing blood as Roy gently examined it.
"Pretty nasty gash there, Johnny, I'll get my kit and put a dressing on it”
By the time Roy had got his emergency first aid kit from the car, John was barely conscious.
"Come on, Pal, stay with me" Roy urged as he rapidly applied a temporary dressing to the gash in John’s leg, getting no response he looked up, John had passed out again. Roy gave him a quick check over, noting John's general condition and taking a mental note of his vital signs, information that the doctors at Rampart ER would need once he got John there.
"Come on, John, the car's not far, I’ll get you to Rampart as quick as I can, Pal," he said, more to himself then to to unconcious man, as he grabbed John under the arms and dragged him to the car. He bundled John into the back seat careful not to disturb his injured leg too much, grimacing at the amount of mud that was adhering to John's uniform, Joanne was going to throw a fit over the state of the car! During the journey to Rampart, Roy also had to become accustomed to the wonderful smell his friend had discovered!
"Nearly there, John," Roy said wishing that he could go faster. "Hang on in there, Buddy"
***
At this time of the morning, the Emergency Department of Rampart Hospital was relatively quiet. Head Nurse Dixie McCall was seated at the desk catching up on her paperwork ready to hand over to the day shift. She looked up as the automatic doors to the ER slid open.
"Roy!" she exclaimed as Roy DeSoto staggered in, carrying John Gage across his shoulders in a fireman's lift.
"Dix, I need help here," Roy gasped
"Orderly, gurney here now!" Dixie snapped "Exam 1". She flicked on the PA microphone "Doctor Brackett Exam 1. Doctor Brackett"
"Okay, Roy what's the score?" Doctor Kelly Brackett asked as the reached the examination room.
"Nasty gash to the right calf, hypothermia, exposure. Pulse weak, he's lost a lot of blood. Lost consciousness 5 --10 minutes ago," Roy said, the professional in him taking over. "He sustained a fall in the warehouse," he added. " I couldn't detect any broken bones."
"Where was he found? I thought you guys searched that place from top to bottom."
"In a drainage ditch," Roy said.
Doctor Brackett looked thoughtful as he examined the unconscious paramedic lying on the examination table, noting the condition of John wounds, deciding on a treatment plan.
"Nurse McCall, 4 units of blood, we have the type on record, set up an IV of Ringers Lactate, get the wound cleaned, full course of antibiotics and get him warmed up. I’ll need sutures and will somebody get those clothes off him? The smell in here is awful.”
"Yes, Doctor," Dixie said, and started to issue orders to the junior nurse who had joined them.
"Antibiotics?" Roy asked
Doctor Brackett nodded, "We can't be too careful in these situations, drains and rats go together”
"Roy, I think it's time you left," Dixie prompted
"Can't I wait?" Roy protested, loath to leave his partner. “At least until he comes round.”
The nurse wheeled in an IV stand and started to clean up John's left arm in preparation for the insertion of the needle. Another started to cut off John's shirt.
"Come on, Roy, you know the rules. John is just like any other patient." Dixie steered him towards the door. "Anyway, you have an important phone call to make," she added.
"I do?" the nervous adrenaline that Roy had been on since finding John was wearing down and his brain was now languishing in a fog caused by little sleep and lots of worry.
"To the Station, to let them know John's all right," Dixie said
"But is he?" Roy asked earnestly. "Is he going to be all right?"
Dixie gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. "Of course, he'll be okay. Kel's the best, you know that. Johnny's young and strong. He'll bounce back. By this afternoon, he'll be chasing all the nurses around for a date, you'll see."
Roy laughed, knowing his partner's record in the romance stakes Dixie was probably right
"OK, Dix I'll go," he said and headed off to the breakroom to make that call.
***
Early morning at Station 51 was usually a time of activity, there were always jobs to be done around the station, cleaning and equipment inspections. This morning, however, no one felt inclined to do anything and for his part Captain Hank Stanley wasn't going to make anyone toe the line. The rest of the night had been depressing. Roy DeSoto had been sent home, a replacement paramedic for John had been unavailable, but the rest of the Station had remained on call. Luckily for them they hadn't been called out, Captain Stanley doubted that they would have performed well in their current state of mind.
The station personnel were gathered around the table all pushing their breakfast around the plate, which wasn't an indication of the culinary abilities of the cook for once.
The silence was shattered by the phone ringing, Captain Stanley crossed the kitchen to answer it.
"Station 51, Captain Stanley speaking."
"Cap, it's Roy," Roy started.
"Sorry Roy, we haven't had any news," Captain Stanley said, automatically assuming that Roy was phoning for an update on his missing partner.
"Cap, I've found him," Roy said breathlessly
"You've what?" the Captain sounded incredulous
"Found him, found Johnny"
"Thank God!" Captain Stanley put his hand over the mouthpiece and told the assembled station crew. The cheer that greeted this news deafened Roy at the other end of the line.
"So how is he?" Captain Stanley asked, once the commotion his end had calmed down. He frantically waved his hand for silence as both Chet and Marco started to fire questions
"Where?"
"How?"
"Is he badly hurt?"
The Captain ignored them and listened to Roy.
"Okay, I think. The doctors are working on him now.”
"But why didn't we find him?" the Captain was confused, between them they had searched the whole building . How could they have missed him?
"He fell into a drainage pipe that ran under the building and had to crawl out. “
“How bad are his injuries?”
“I don’t think anything is broken, mainly cuts and abrasions,and a nasty gash to his leg plus exposure from being out in the rain all night,” Roy replied, glancing down the corridor he saw some activity around the door to Examination Room 1. “Look, Cap I gotta go, looks like something’s happening down there.”
***
It was another hour before Roy was finally allowed to see John who had been taken up to a room to recover from his ordeal. John managed a wan smile as he saw his friend enter the room.
"Well at least you're cleaner than last time I saw you," Roy commented "Once you're out of here you can valet the back of my car"
"Sorry about that," John whispered
"Only joking, Pal," Roy grinned. "It's good to see you. At one point we thought we had lost you for good"
"Thanks, Roy," John suddenly said.
"What for?"
"For everything, for finding me, bringing me here, I don't know what I would have done without you"
"You would have got a lift in from someone," Roy replied
John shook his head sadly. "No one would stop, I tried to flag down two cars in the night."
Roy looked at him in disbelief. “Well I suppose you did look like the Creature from the Black Lagoon,” he admitted.
“Thanks,” John replied sarcastically.
"Here, I brought you these," Roy fished in his pocket and put John's fire badge and name tag on the bedside table “And also this.” He fished into the bag he was carrying and pulled out John’s firehelmet, which he laid on the bed.
John grinned "Afraid I'd turn into Chet Kelly?" he asked
"You'd have to put on a few pounds and shrink a little," Roy replied
"With all that rain last night I wouldn't be surprised if I have shrunk," John said.
“By the way, what happened to your turnout coat?” Roy asked.
“Man, it’s still in that goddamned pipe!” John exclaimed “It got caught, I couldn’t free it, the water level was rising, I thought I was going to drown. So I managed to work my way out of it, it’s probably still hanging there”
“Should make an interesting rats' nest,” Roy commented.
John winced as he tried to make himself more comfortable. His left arm was still connected to an IV pumping an antibiotic cocktail into his bloodstream to counteract anything he might have picked up in the drainage channel. His right hand was bandaged due to the abrasions he had picked up.
“How’s the leg?” Roy asked, a look of concern on his face.
“Hurts like hell, Kel says it will take a couple of weeks before I’m ready to go back to work”
Roy groaned.
“What’s wrong, don’t tell me you’re going to miss me?” John asked cheekily.
“No,” Roy replied. “It means I’ve got to put up with Craig Brice again.”
John laughed and then got caught in a violent coughing fit, the dampness of the night before had evidently penetrated to his chest. Roy helped him to sit upright to try and ease the cough.
Eventually John managed to get things under control and sank back against the pillow, his face looking pale and his eyes somewhat hollow from the lack of sleep.
Roy patted him on the shoulder “Look, I’ve got to go, Pal. Joanne will be wondering where I’ve got to. I’ll call in tomorrow, see how you’re doing, okay?”
“Thanks, Roy, for everything." John extended his bandaged right hand.
Roy shook it gently “That’s what partners are for,” he replied.
"Partners" ©1999 Karen Hobbs. "Emergency!" and its characters © Mark VII Productions, Inc. All rights reserved. No infringement of any copyrights or trademarks is intended or should be inferred. This is a work of fiction, and any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
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