Slip Sliding Away
Author’s note: This story takes place when the engine was still an open-cab Crown.
It had been pouring rain for two days. Flash flood warnings had been in effect since 9:00 p.m. the previous night. The engine and squad were already on their way to their second T.A. before breakfast. 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 peering 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, the squad slid to a stop as he grabbed the radio to inform LA Headquarters.
Johnny jumped out and ran the few feet to where the engine disappeared -- he could see now that the road had been washed out. He spotted the engine lying on its driver's side, submerged in about three feet of water. Johnny heard Chet shouting and saw him trying to drag Marco back toward the road. He plunged in the icy water to help him.
Together, they dragged Marco onto dry ground. He wasn't breathing. Johnny quickly checked for a pulse, finding one, he immediately began mouth to mouth.
Roy came running up just as Marco began coughing. Johnny quickly rolled him over to his side as he coughed up the muddy water. "Cap and Mike?" Roy asked Chet.
Chet shook his head, still out of breath. He and Marco were both soaked and shivering.
Roy reached down, grabbed the shoulder of Marco’s turnout coat, and helped Johnny pull him the rest of the way out of the water. Then he grabbed Chet's wrist, pulling him up the embankment and out of the water as well. "Are you alright?"
When Chet nodded, Roy slid into the water and began wading toward the cab of the engine.
"Are you sure you’re okay Chet?" asked Johnny, still keeping a close eye on Marco.
"Sore, but nothing life-threatening," replied Chet, shaking.
"Think you can get some blankets out of the squad and keep an eye on Marco?" asked Johnny.
"Yeah," replied Chet.
"I’m okay," said Marco wheezing, "Go help the Cap and Mike."
Johnny patted Marco on the shoulder and waded into the water after Roy. Stanley was standing in the overturned cab. He had braced his feet against the driver’s door, his right arm hung useless at his side. In his left hand, he gripped the collar of Mike’s turnout, keeping the unconscious engineer’s head just above the surface of the water.
"I got him, Cap," said Roy, lifting Mike by the shoulders so that his head was well out of the water. Stanley gratefully released Mike’s collar and leaned against the bottom of the seats.
"He’s caught," said Roy as Johnny waded up.
Johnny took a deep breath and plunged under the water, feeling along Mike’s legs, trying to free him. He came back up a few seconds later. "He’s pinned under the Engine, Roy. We’re going to need help to get him out."
"Alright," said Roy, still holding Mike’s head out of the water, "I’ve got him, why don’t you get the Cap outta here."
Stanley didn’t want to leave with one of his men still trapped, but he knew his presence would only hinder the rescuers. He put his good hand on Johnny’s shoulder to help balance himself as he stepped out of the cab into the water.
Mike groaned and stirred. Realizing he was in water, he panicked, trying to get his footing.
"Cut it out, Mike!" said Roy, struggling to hold the thrashing engineer’s head above water. "I’ve got you, I won’t let go," he said in a more soothing tone as Mike calmed down.
"What happened?" asked Mike, disoriented. He grabbed for a handhold on the engine to help keep his head above the water. "Oh God, I wrecked the engine!"
"The road’s washed out, Pal," said Stanley, teeth chattering, "It wasn’t your fault."
They could hear sirens approaching in the distance. "Come on," said Johnny, tugging gently on Stanley’s uninjured arm, "You need to get out of the water."
"Cavalry’s coming, Pal, hang in there," said Stanley to Mike, before reluctantly following Johnny back to the road.
Chet and Johnny helped Stanley up the embankment. Marco was sitting up nearby, wrapped in a blanket. Johnny handed two more blankets to Stanley and Chet just as Engine 115 arrived.
Captain Erickson jumped out of the engine. "Jesus Christ, Hank!" he exclaimed when he saw 51’s Engine. He recovered from his shock immediately. "Status?" he asked Johnny.
"Everyone’s out except our engineer, Mike Stoker. His legs are caught under the engine. My partner, Roy, is with him now. You’re going to need jacks for sure," answered Johnny, teeth chattering.
"On the double men," said Erickson to his crew, who grabbed jacks and prybars and waded toward the wreck. "Hold it," he said as Johnny was about to wade back into the water. "I’m no paramedic but I can see that you’re turning blue. We’ve got enough men. You’ve got people here to take care of," he said, staring pointedly at Stanley's arm. "Don’t worry, we’ll get him out," he told Stanley, before he too, plunged into the murky liquid.
Johnny noticed that someone had brought the supplies from the squad and left them stacked neatly by the roadside. "Let me take a look at your arm, Cap," he said to Stanley.
"I think I just dislocated my shoulder," said Stanley, but his attention was on the wrecked engine.
***
Erickson and his men approached the cab slowly, so as not to create waves. "What have you got?" he asked Roy.
"His legs are pinned, and he’s probably hypothermic," answered the paramedic. "We need to get him out of this water and someplace warm. He may have other injuries. We should put him on a backboard before we move him."
"Okay," said Erickson. "Stevens," he motioned for the fireman to take Roy’s place. "Go set up whatever gear you’ll need once we get him free," he ordered Roy. When Roy hesitated, he added more kindly, "He’s one of ours too."
Roy met Erickson’s eyes for a moment. "Try to keep him talking," was all Roy said, but the look they exchanged spoke fathoms.
Mike had stopped trying to hold himself out of the water, letting Roy, then Stevens, support him. At first he had been miserably cold, but now he was feeling almost -- comfortable. Even his legs had stopped hurting. It would be so easy to close his eyes, just for a moment, to rest.
"Hey, Mike," said Stevens. When Mike opened his eyes he continued, "You know they’re going to take this engine out of your paycheck right?"
Mike smiled at his fellow engineer's joke. "You can’t get blood out of a stone," he said. His eyes were so heavy. He would close them, just for a minute.
Roy returned with the backboard and took over for Stevens. "Mike, man, stay with us," said Roy.
Mike dragged his eyes open again. "What about Chet and Marco?"
"They’re okay," Roy assured him.
"Two minutes, DeSoto" said Erickson.
"Not much longer, Mike, hang in there," said Roy, encouragingly.
Every time Mike blinked his eyes, it was harder and harder to open them again. Roy shifted his position slightly so that another firefighter could find a better position with his prybar. Mike let his eyes close again.
"Come on, Mike," said Roy, "Not much longer."
"Roy, I have a confession to make," said Mike, sleepily, his eyes still closed. "What’s that?" asked Roy, not really paying attention to the conversation, just trying to keep Mike talking.
"You know last week...when you went to bed?" Roy had to think for a minute, then it hit him. "WHAT?" he exclaimed. "You? You short-sheeted my bed? I blamed Chet for that!"
"I know, I’m sorry," said Mike, laughing, which quickly turned into a fit coughing. The coughing stopped finally and Mike took a careful, shallow breath. "I’m really sorry," he repeated, weakly. "You tell Chet I’m sorry too."
"Don’t talk like that, Mike," said Roy worriedly, "It won’t be much longer."
"Sure," said Mike, but he didn’t even try to open his eyes this time. "Get ready," Erickson warned Roy. The men began jacking and prising the engine.
Roy felt Mike’s legs come free. "That got it!" he said, holding Mike’s head above the water with one arm and reaching for the backboard with the other.
***
It was dark and warm and comfortable. "Mike, " he heard someone call his name, then again, "Mike." He followed the sound of the voice. He began to feel cold, his legs hurt and a bright light hurt his eyes even though they were closed. Maybe following the voice wasn’t such a good idea after all. He tried to return to the warm blackness. "Come on, Mike," said the persistent and familiar voice, a woman’s voice. Mike wanted the voice to go away. "Michael," said the voice. That did it. He hated the name Michael. Ever since he was seven, he made everyone call him Mike. He forced his eyes open and saw Dixie.
"See," said Dixie, smiling at Roy who stood beside her. "Just takes a little friendly persuasion."
Roy looked tired but relieved. "How ya feelin', Mike?" he asked.
"I’m cold and my legs hurt," said Mike, irritably.
"I’m not surprised," said Brackett, approaching the exam table. "You’re hypothermic and you broke your legs."
"Both of them?" asked Mike in surprise, craning his head to look towards his legs.
"Lucky for you they were clean breaks, but you’re going to be laid up for a while."
"What about the others?" he asked.
"Well, your Captain dislocated his shoulder and Kelly cracked a couple of ribs. We fixed them up and sent them both home on painkillers. Marco is staying here a few days to make sure he doesn’t develop pneumonia or other complications."
"You and he can be room-mates," joked Roy.
"That’s nice," said Mike, as he drifted off to sleep.
***
"Hey, Mike, welcome back!" said Roy, when Mike entered the kitchen. The rest of the crew greeted him enthusiastically as well.
At first, Mike wasn’t aware of anything, he was so glad to be back at work. Throughout the day though, he began to notice that everyone was treating him like he was breakable -- offering to bring him coffee, helping him with his part of the cleaning, jumping up to get him the paper. It made him uncomfortable, but he kept quiet. After all, they were just trying to be helpful. Besides, he figured things would return to normal soon. Finally, when they were ready to turn in, he entered the dorm and saw that someone had turned down his bed for him.
"That’s enough!" he said, exasperated.
"What’s enough?" asked Marco, already in bed.
"You guys are treating me like I’m made out of china or something!" he exclaimed, pointing to the bed.
"Don’t get upset, Mike. The guys are just a little worried about you. This being your first day back and all," said Stanley from his bunk.
"Gee whiz, try to be nice to a guy!" said Chet.
Mike was immediately contrite. "I’m sorry, guys. I just want everything to get back to normal okay?"
"That sounds like a reasonable request," said Johnny, taking Mike’s side.
"I think Mike’s right," said Roy, agreeing with Johnny. "We have been a little overprotective. I promise, Mike, from now on, we’ll treat you like nothing ever happened." The others chimed in in agreement.
"Okay, now that that's settled, can we get some sleep?" asked Stanley, one hand on his lamp.
"Thanks," said Mike as the Captain turned out the light.
Mike grabbed the edge of the sheet and slipped under the covers, only to have it yanked out of his hands as he feet jarred unexpectedly against something.
"Roy?" asked Mike calmly, in the darkness. He could hear muffled chortling throughout the dorm.
"Yes?" asked Roy, innocently.
"Did you short sheet my bed?"
"Slip Sliding Away" ©1999 Erika Bartlett. "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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