Fires, Rescues, and Owies, Oh
My!
By Cameron, Susie, Sheryl, Carol, Alice, Robin, JO, Jodi,
Sue, Rhys, Dorisann, Nancy, Pat, Kathy, Jamison, Goober, Teresa,
& Katy.
Chapter One
John Gage trudged into the locker room of Station 51 looking like something the cat had dragged in. He opened his locker and sat down heavily on the bench to remove his shoes.
"Geez, Gage, you look like you haven’t slept in days!"
Chet almost felt sorry for the weary looking paramedic. Key word:
almost.
"I haven’t, since last shift." Johnny sighed,
rubbing his bloodshot eyes.
"That was two days ago. Is there something you want to talk
about?" Roy asked sympathetically, as he buttoned his shirt,
tucking it into his pants.
"The neighbors have a dog, that never shuts up...yip, yip,
yip all night long. Some fancy, purebred, poodle thing with
painted nails and pink ribbons," Johnny grumbled. Chet
raised his eyebrows,
"That’s a first. John Gage complaining about some
dame keeping him up all night."
"Ha, ha, very funny Chet. Don't you have to go play in
traffic?"
"Real original pal," Chet chuckled, as he sauntered
from the locker room.
"You know, you really don't look so good. Maybe you should
consider using some sick time. I'm sure Cap can call in a
replacement with no problem."
"I’ll be fine, Roy. I’ll get some of Mike's coffee
and be good to go..." Johnny groaned as the klaxon sounded.
"Station 51, Engine 110..." John went to the passengers
side of the squad and climbed in. Captain Stanley handed Roy the
slip of paper containing the address and hurried toward the
engine. Both vehicles pulled out of the station, sirens wailing.
Station 51 was first to arrive at the scene, and the house was well involved. There was a crowd of onlookers already gathered on the front lawn. Captain Stanley walked over and told them to move back for their own safety. A frantic woman carrying an infant ran up to the captain.
"Please, please, you have to help me," she cried, and began to sob uncontrollably.
"You need to calm down, ma'am." Stanley tried his best to calm her. The baby she was holding started to slip from her grasp. He caught the infant before it slipped completely out of her arms. "Roy, Johnny," he called. The woman became more hysterical as the paramedics approached.
"Don't let them take my baby away!" She collapsed to the ground unconscious. Immediately, Roy knelt down next to the woman, taking hold of her wrist to get her pulse.
"Johnny, oxygen," the senior paramedic ordered. Johnny, retrieved the equipment from the squad, and quickly administered the oxygen. "It looks like she's coming around," he pointed out. Within moments, the patient's eyes fluttered open and she began coughing.
"My baby, did they take my baby?" She clawed at the
oxygen mask as she attempted to get up. "He wanted my baby,
but I wouldn't let him have her...hid her..."
"Relax, your baby is fine," Hank Stanley reassured her,
holding the baby out so that she could see for herself. The baby
was obviously frightened and now screaming very loudly. He pulled
it close to him and began gently bouncing the baby up and down,
patting its back, and trying to calm it, having no luck. The baby
only cried louder.
"Well," John noted, looking up at his captain with a grin, "at least we know the lungs are fine." The woman was now fully alert and trying to sit up.
"Take it easy," Roy soothed, as he helped her into a
sitting position.
"My baby," she pleaded, pulling off the mask and
holding out her arms. Hank, wanting nothing more than silence,
slipped the baby into her open arms. As soon as she was safe in
her mothers arms she stopped screaming, only giving quiet little
hiccuping sobs as she lay her head on her shoulder. "Oh my
god!" The mother screamed, looking around wildly. "Where’s
Jamie?" She struggled to get to her feet, but was gently
restrained by the two paramedics. "No," the woman
screamed hysterically, frantically wiggling, trying to break free.
"Ma'am, who is Jamie?" asked Johnny.
"She’s in the house, I thought I’d grabbed them
both. Oh, God, please save my baby." Johnny looked up at his
Captain.
"Make it fast, pal, we can’t hold it off much longer."
John nodded, already sprinting towards the house. "Kelly,"
Cap yelled. "Get an inch and a half in there and cover Gage."
Chet nodded, pulling the hose off of the back of the engine and
running towards the house, following the paramedic inside.
~*~
Johnny ran up the steps and quickly began checking rooms on the second floor. The third door he opened was a nursery. Two cribs lined two walls... the ceiling was blistering. Johnny ran to the first crib, but it was empty. He hurried to the second crib. Under a small pink sooty blanket, he found a still, limp form. Quickly, he scooped up the small bundle, and found no pulse. Whipping off his air mask, he began resuscitative breathing as he ran from the room. As he headed to the stairs, a large fiery beam collapsed, cutting off that exit. He turned around but found himself surrounded by a wall of fire. He ran into the only door available to him, still trying to breathe for the baby. "Don't die on me!" He muttered to the child. He found himself in a bathroom, with a very small window. It would be large enough to pass the child out, if he could get their attention, but there would be no way out for him.
He frantically looked around the bathroom, searching for something to use to break the small window. Then it dawned on him to use his forcible entry tool. He pulled it off of his coat, turned his body; sheltering the infant as best he could, and smashed the window, running it along the frame to knock off the shards of glass that clung to the wood.
~*~
"Cap! I can’t follow, fire flared up behind him."
Chet told his Captain. He heard a window shatter and saw Johnny’s
arm flailing at the opening.
"Get a ladder up there!" Captain Stanley ordered.
Sizing up the window, he realized that his paramedic would never
fit through it. "Chet, grab the K-12," he shouted as
Lopez, and Stoker hoisted the ladder up to the window.
~*~
Johnny continued to give the limp baby CPR, coughing as the
smoke invaded his lungs. It seemed a lifetime had passed before
he finally saw Marco outside the window. Johnny shielded the baby
while Marco cleared the opening. Marco had to yell to be heard
over the raging inferno. "Gage! Hand her here!" Johnny
passed the small body out of the window.
"Hurry!" he told Marco. Johnny replaced his air mask,
breathing in fresh oxygen. Marco took the baby in his arms. He
glanced at the tiny face under the blanket.
"Looks like my little niece, Maria," he whispered, as he gently tucked her into the nook of his arm, and began his decent. Once he was on the ground, Marco heard Cap calling his name, and he moved quickly out of Chet’s way, which had made his way up the ladder.
"Lopez, over here!" Roy yelled. He cradled the baby in his arms and began a cautious jog over to the waiting paramedic.
"Let's get you out of here, Gage. Cover up," Chet
warned the young man. Johnny went to the farthest corner to take
cover as Chet cut an opening in the wall. As Chet was making
progress on the wall, the alarm went off on Johnny's tank, and he
removed his mask so that he wouldn’t suffocate. "Come
on," Chet called. Johnny staggered to the opening. Chet
grabbed for him, helping him up into the opening. They began to
slowly descend the ladder. Chet reached up to steady the wobbly
Gage. Cap met them at the bottom and helped Johnny find a safe
place on the ground. He tried handing him an oxygen mask. Johnny
shook it off, and tried to stand.
"Here," Cap said. Johnny could see Roy frantically
working with the still limp baby. Cap pulled him back down.
"Roy's doing all he can. You sit and put that on."
Reluctantly, Johnny complied. But the cold feeling inside the pit
of his stomach told him his efforts had been for nothing. He hadn't
been in time to save that poor baby.
He watched the anguished mother cradling her other child. He
watched his partner's frantic but useless attempts to resuscitate
the baby. He would hear the grieving cries of that mother forever
ringing in his head. Already, the voice inside him was saying,
you could have gotten there quicker, Gage. He closed his eyes to
the whole scene, praying that it would all go away. Someone
slapped his shoulder. He jumped and looked up to see Hank Stanley
standing over him.
"Nice job, Pal. Roy was able to get her pulse back. Are you
going to be okay to drive the squad?" Johnny nodded and
removed the mask from his face.
"Yeah, I inhaled a little smoke, that’s all."
He coughed forcefully, then looked at Hank. "The baby's not
dead?" he asked, hopefully.
"No," replied Hank. He smiled wanly. "Roy didn't
say much, and I'm not sure if the kid will make it, but you at
least gave her a chance. Have yourself checked at Rampart,
understood?"
"Right, Cap," Johnny stood up and headed towards the
squad. He wearily stowed his equipment in its compartment, and
leaned back in the driver's seat for a moment, as he started to
cough violently. He coughed so hard the joke phrase, coughing up
a lung, flitted through his mind; only, he wasn't laughing.
Johnny coughed until he gagged. Light-headed, he rested his
forehead on his arm draped over the steering wheel. Catching his
breath at last, he raised his head to see dark spots swim in his
vision. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head in an
attempt to clear his sight. The movement brought wracking pain in
his skull. "What’s going on?" he spoke to the
inside of the squad. "I've eaten smoke plenty of times
without any reaction whatsoever." He took a deep, pain-filled
breath and felt recuperated enough to drive. Twisting the key in
the ignition, the motor rumbled to life. He put the squad in gear
and followed behind the ambulance.
Thankfully, Rampart General Hospital was only a few miles from
the scene of the fire. As he neared his destination, Johnny began
to feel even worse. "Just a few more blocks," he told
himself. A couple of minutes later, he pulled into their usual
parking spot at emergency department entrance. Before he could
even turn the ignition off, he was overcome with another coughing
fit. His chest felt so tight, that the pain brought tears to his
eyes. He felt dizzy and tiny white flecks dotted his vision. In
the midst of the coughing spell, he noticed there was blood on
his hands. Blood on his hands, from him, wasn’t a good sign.
He opened the door, stepped out, and tried to go toward the
sliding glass doors. The dizziness and coughing were getting
worse.
About that time, a CHP highway patrolman, Frank Poncharello,
arrived on his motorcycle. Ponch leaned over into Johnny’s
face. "Are you okay, man?" When Gage didn’t answer,
he took a closer look. "Gage, You're bleeding." He
grabbed Johnny’s elbow and helped him towards the hospital.
"You've got some pretty deep cuts. Let's get you inside.
What did you run into, anyway?"
"Fire," Johnny stared blearily at Ponch. "Trapped
in a bathroom… rescued a baby..." his words were cut
off by a new round of coughing. "Ate...smoke...K-12...
debris flying." Johnny gasped as he braced his chest with
his arm and bent over. Ponch looked around frantically, grabbed a
wheelchair that was parked inside the doorway, and shoved Johnny
into it.
Gage grimaced as Ponch wheeled him into the emergency department.
Ordinarily he would never have gotten into a wheelchair
voluntarily, even for Roy. This time, his buckling knees had made
the decision for him. A sudden wave of weakness made him sag even
farther into the wheelchair. The paramedic struggled to keep his
eyes open.
"Hey, can I get a doctor?" Ponch asked. Dr. Early
stepped out of treatment room 1, and almost ran over the two men.
"Johnny, what have you done..." the physician frowned
at the cuts. "Never mind. I can see what you've done. This
way Ponch, Treatment 2." The officer obligingly pushed the
injured man into the room that Early indicated. Joe busied
himself at the supply cabinet and called out behind him. "Okay
Johnny, you know the drill. Hop onto the table and we'll get
those lacerations taken care of." Johnny had just managed to
lift himself from the chair when he started coughing again. Ponch
looked up and grabbed his arm, helping him collapse backward into
the chair. "Johnny," He dropped his supplies and went
over to the chair. The paramedic was completely passed out. Dr.
Early stuck his head out the examining room door, in time to see
Dixie going past.
"Dix, grab an orderly, stat!" he ordered.
"Bill!" she called to a white-clad man down the corridor, and motioned for him. He trotted to the treatment room.
"What's wrong with Johnny?"
"I need him up on the table," Early replied, stooping
to grab John's ankles. Ponch had his hands under the paramedic's
arms. Bill entered and grabbed his midsection. "On three!
One, two, three!" They lifted him up onto the exam table.
Johnny moaned and rolled his head back and forth lethargically.
His eyes clamped tightly shut. "Now, let's find out what's
going on here," Early said, beginning his examination.
"Dix, I need his vitals," Joe ordered, as he listened
carefully to Johnny's lungs. Dixie began with his blood pressure.
Taking out his penlight and bending over to check the now
unconscious paramedic's pupil responses. "Equal and reactive."
The doctor paused, looking a bit puzzled.
"BP's 120/80," Dix stated, as she pulled the cuff off.
The exam room door opened and Roy cautiously peered in,
"Is Johnny in here?" he asked with a smile, expecting to find his partner helping with a patient. His smile faded, as he caught sight of Johnny lying on the table. "What's going on?" he asked, confused. His eyes darted from Dr. Early to Dixie, finally noticing Ponch standing off to one side, "Was Johnny in an accident or something?"
"No… no accident. I found him ready to collapse
outside the doors," Ponch explained. "He said something
about being trapped in a bathroom."
"Yeah...he rescued a baby. Cap said Johnny took in some
smoke and got a few lacerations, but otherwise seemed fine."
Roy approached his unconscious partner. Dr. Early studied his
patient for a moment before looking at Roy.
"How did he act otherwise? Any complaints?"
"I didn't see him after the rescue. I was working with the
baby." Roy frowned.
"What about before the fire? Was he acting odd, or
complaining of not feeling well earlier?" Dr. Early implored;
searching for any information that would help explain Johnny's
current condition.
"He wasn't sick, at least he said he wasn't, but he was
extremely tired this morning when we started our shift. He said a
dog had been keeping him from sleeping the last couple of nights.
I told him to take the day off, but he wouldn’t hear of it."
He wished he had pushed harder. Ponch took a step towards the
door.
"I'll be on my way. I've got to find that partner of mine
before the Sarge sends out a search party."
"Hey, thanks for being there," Roy took Ponch's
outstretched hand and shook it.
"No problem, I was in the right place at the right time."
Seeing Roy try to hold it together, Ponch wanted to say something
encouraging. "Hang in there, Roy...Johnny hasn't used up all
his nine lives yet, he'll be fine." Ponch saw Roy smile.
"Tell him Jon and I will be by to check on him later."
He smiled reassuringly and left the room. Roy turned back to Dr.
Early.
"Any idea what's going on Doc?"
"Well, we know he has several lacerations that'll have to be sutured, but his biggest problem is his breathing. Why is he having trouble?" Dr. Early looked down at Johnny. "We'll do x-rays and lab tests to see if they can tell us anything." He scratched his chin. "Do you know if there was anything at all unusual about the house?" Roy looked confused, but shook his head. "Do you think they stored chemicals, solvents, or pesticides in there?" Roy shrugged his shoulders. "Could there have been any drugs, or a meth lab in the house?"
"I don't know, Doc. The place was fully involved when we
got there. Cap only let Johnny go in there when the mother told
us about the little girl."
"Roy?" Johnny croaked from beneath the mask. He looked
over at his partner. "How's the baby?"
"The baby's doing fine," he said softly. Johnny
frowned in dismay.
"I know better than that."
"She’s doing fine, honest." Roy patted his
shoulder. "There wouldn't even be that, if you hadn't gone
in there and gotten her out." Johnny suddenly sucked in a
wheezing breath and began coughing, wrapping one arm around his
sore chest. He tried to sit up.
"Whoa, take it easy. Don't sit up, John," Dr. Early
cautioned. Johnny instead rolled onto his side. The position
eased his pain somewhat. Roy circled the table to raise the
guardrail behind John's back.
"Doc, this isn't a simple case of smoke inhalation.... is it?"
Roy asked. Everyone looked at the man on the table; his lips were
turning a light shade of blue, and his breathing coming in short,
rapid gasps.
"I don't know," Dr. Early admitted. "The tests
will tell us more." He looked at Roy. "So, you didn't
go into the house?" Roy shook his head.
"No, only Johnny. It was fully involved, like I said. If there hadn't been a victim to rescue we'd have let it burn." Dr. Early sighed in frustration.
"Is there any way you can find out what could have been in there?" asked Dr. Early.
"We can ask the baby's mother, but she won’t be in
any shape to answer questions right now." He watched, as
Johnny's respirations grew more labored. Roy pulled out his H.T.
"I'll check with Captain Stanley." He looked at Johnny.
"I'll call dispatch and have them patch me through. LA, this
is Squad 51."
"Go ahead, squad 51."
"LA, patch me through to Engine 51."
"10-4, squad 51. Engine 51." There was a small pause
and Roy heard Cap answer at the other end.
"Engine 51."
"Squad 51 requested to talk with you, go ahead Squad 51."
"Cap, do you have any idea of an ignition source for the
fire, yet? Johnny's in a bad way, and the Doc thinks there could
have been some type of chemical exposure."
"We've found some containers in the basement, but it'll take
a while to have them identified. We've got the arson investigator
responding to help with identification. Keep us advised on Gage's
condition."
"10-4," Roy looked at Dr. Early then glanced at Johnny.
A dusky tone started to discolor the paramedic's lips.
"Doc," rasped Johnny. "It's getting...awfully...hard...to
breathe."
"Dix, get Respiratory Therapy down here on the double and
get ready to intubate," ordered Dr. Early. "I want 100
milligrams of Hydrocortisone, stat, and a nebulizer treatment."
He turned to Johnny. "Don't worry, Johnny. We may need to
put you on a ventilator for a while until we can find out what
you’ve inhaled." Johnny nodded and leaned back,
exhausted.
"Roy, why don't you go get a cup of coffee, we'll let you
know if there's any change, " Dr. Early said kindly. "
We'll take good care of him."
"Okay, Doc," Roy reluctantly agreed. He leaned close to
his partner and told him, "I'll be right outside."
"'Kay," rasped John.
~*~
Roy made his way to the lounge and had poured himself a cup of
coffee. He was about to sit down, when Chet walked in.
"How's he doing?" Chet asked.
"They’re not sure, he's having a lot of difficulty
breathing," Roy answered. "They'll know a lot more when
they figure out what chemicals were at that house." Roy
sighed and stared down at the table for a moment.
"That's why we’re here, we think we may have that
figured out," offered Chet, sitting down across from Roy.
"They aren't finished investigating yet, but we found a
whole lot of Chlordane stored in the basement. Who knows where
else it was in the house."
"A whole lot?" asked Roy. "What do you mean by a
whole lot? Why would a family with kids, have that stuff around
anyway?"
"Some people are stupid that way," Chet responded.
"Are they sure its Chlordane?" Chet shrugged his shoulders,
"I've read being exposed to that stuff can be bad, Roy."
"Yeah, I've read that too." Both men sat in silence
each preoccupied with their own thoughts until Dixie entered the
lounge followed by two men.
"Roy, Chet, these are Detectives Ken Hutchinson and Dave
Starsky. They wanted to talk to John. I thought maybe you guys
could help them out, since John can’t." She turned to
the two detectives, "This is Firefighter/Paramedic Roy
Desoto, he's Gage's partner, and this gentleman over here is
Firefighter Chet Kelly. They both work out of Station 51. Maybe
they can answer some of your questions." Dixie smiled and
left the lounge.
"Detectives? What do you guys want with John?" Roy
asked.
"Is Gage in some kind of trouble?" Chet asked.
"No, but he was the only one that went into the house,"
the blonde detective said.
"So then what's up?"
"We wanted to know what he saw when he went in."
"He didn't say anything when I pulled him through the window.
The fire investigators found some containers labeled Chlordane,"
Chet informed them. Hutch looked at the two men and sighed,
"We seriously doubt that its Chlordane. We have every
reason to believe that the house was a clandestine laboratory.
They were probably manufacturing Meth-amphetamines in the
basement."
"Metha-what?" asked Chet. Roy looked at the detectives,
"All this because someone is making designer speed?"
The door to the lounge opened and Dr. Early stepped into the room.
The four men looked expectantly at him. He looked down at his
hands.
"John has pneumonia in both lungs, and his system is run
down; he’s exhausted to the point of collapse." Early
looked up at Johnny's partner. "We're doing all that we can.
Have you heard anything about the chemicals in the house?"
"At first we thought it was Chlordane, but according to
these two detectives it could be almost anything," Roy
commented.
"If we could pin-point the chemicals it would really help."
"We'll go talk to the investigator at the scene, Doc, and
see what we can find out," The dark haired detective said.
"Thanks, guys." They headed for the door.
"Nice to meet you," Hutch said.
"Nice to meet you, too," the paramedic said. The door
went closed on the two detectives.
"Roy why don't you go home and rest. I don't think Johnny
wants you to join him in here."
"I don't think I could, Doc. I'd be too worried about him to
sleep." There came an announcement over the PA system.
"CODE BLUE IN TREATMENT ROOM THREE, CODE BLUE IN TREATMENT
ROOM THREE." Early and McCall hurried out of the room. Roy
looked over at his fellow firefighter, and followed closely
behind the doctor and nurse. Chet was right on his heels.
"Guys," Dixie said, she turned around, "tell
Johnny we'll be back in a few minutes with his test results."
"What?" exclaimed Chet in astonishment.
"He's in Room 2, remember?" Dix smiled, as the bushy-haired
firefighter let out a breath. She entered treatment 3 behind Joe
Early.
"Did you know he was in 2?" Chet asked Roy with an edge
to his voice.
"Well, for a minute there, I thought it was Johnny, too. I
think he’s been in every treatment room here," Roy
looked sheepishly at Chet, then stood back as more people hurried
into the treatment room. "Let's go see Johnny." Chet
nodded, and opened the treatment room door. Betty stood by John's
beside, checking his pulse. She looked up and smiled.
"He seems a little better after the medication and the
breathing treatment. Now, we're waiting for the lab tests to come
back." The back of the stretcher was elevated at nearly a 90-degree
angle. Strands of his jet-black hair were pasted to his forehead.
"Johnny?" Chet asked, tentatively. Johnny peeled open
an eye, and wanly smiled.
"Hey, Chet." The non-re-breather mask muffled his
reply. He reached beneath the mask and rubbed his eye. "Thanks...for
back there."
"No problem, Gage, are you feeling better?" Chet asked.
"A little better, not much," rasped Johnny. "I'm
tired." Johnny rubbed his chest and grimaced. The
respiratory therapist entered the treatment room and handed Betty
a slip of paper.
"Here's his blood gas." Betty copied the test results onto the flow chart.
"Can you find Dr. Early?" The therapist nodded and
left the treatment room.
"What’s wrong?" Betty shook her head, and set the
chart down on one of the tables. "Do you think you'll have
to...?" Roy asked softly. He gestured to the intubation
equipment that lay on a tray beside the head of Johnny's gurney.
Betty nodded. The therapist returned, with Dr. Early behind him.
He picked up the chart and began reviewing the results of Johnny’s
blood gases. Johnny's breathing seemed to become increasingly
labored...and his level of awareness diminished. He stirred
restlessly in the bed, looking over at Roy.
"Get me out of here, okay?"
"Take it easy, John."
"I don’t want to be here..." Johnny complained
weakly. His thrashing increased and he grabbed at the tape
securing the IV needle that had been placed into his left arm.
"I want out of here...let me go..." Betty grabbed his
hand, and spoke in a gentle voice.
"Now Johnny...it's going to be okay... you have to lay still and let us take care of you." Stepping over to the stretcher, Dr. Early did his best to listen to the breath sounds of his agitated patient. Johnny shoved at the stethoscope in Early's hand.
"Roy, make it stop!" Johnny cried out.
"Easy, Johnny," Roy said, softly. Early motioned to the nurse and respiratory therapist.
"Let’s get him intubated." As his medical personnel began to prepare the necessary equipment and medications, Early tried to explain the situation to the wriggling man. In his agitated state, nothing was making sense.
"No!" Johnny moaned, striking out at the physician.
"Stay away... don't... ROY... help me!" Early ducked a
blow aimed for his head. Roy moved in quickly, lying across
Johnny to restrain him.
"Johnny listen to me...it's going to be okay. You have to
let them do this, so you get better." Betty stepped over to
the bed, a syringe in hand. Receiving a nod from Early, she
slipped the needle into the brown hub of the IV tubing and began
to slowly inject the sedative to calm him down.
"This is going to help you sleep, Johnny," she said
softly.
"No sleep. No!" Johnny cried, his dark eyes filled with
fear. "I don't want to go to sleep, I can't go to sleep, Roy..."
Roy held onto his struggling friend more tightly, gently rubbing
his arm and continuing to speak in soothing tones.
"It's all right...don't fight it, John, go with it." As the medication began to take effect, Johnny's struggles began to slow, then cease altogether. "That's it, partner...sleep." Roy saw Johnny sag against the pillows as the sedative took effect.
"Don' want to sleep.... Can’t sleep.... Too scared..." Johnny's whispers were lost in the activity of the room.
~*~
The darkness was everywhere. He couldn't see his hand in front of his face. The fear gripped his heart like icy fingers. His lungs refused to function. He felt the numbness start in his toes; work it's way up his legs, to his stomach, to his chest and up to his head. He knew he was dead. He had always wondered what it was like to die.
~*~
"Joe," Dix asked, "Johnny's heart rate is up to 130, BP is 160/90." She peered at the paramedic's face as the respiratory therapist removed the ambu bag. A single tear slid down Johnny's closed eye, to his hairline, and she tenderly wiped it away with her finger. Dr. Early picked up the laryngoscope and the breathing tube, then opened Johnny's mouth. He quickly inserted the breathing tube into Johnny's windpipe.
"Let's get that x-ray, and I'll call the ICU and get a bed." Dr. Morton entered the room.
"We just received a call from Detective Starsky. Turns out there were a couple of different chemicals in that house. They found Benzene, and 1-1-1 Tri-chloroethane. I called Poison Control, who said to provide oxygen, and to use diazepam for seizures. There aren't any specific antidotes for either chemical. Did he have any nausea, vomiting, or blurred vision?" Dixie shrugged.
"We don't know. Ponch wheeled him in from the parking lot,
and by the time we got him in here, he had passed out."
"Well," Dr. Early said, as he removed his gloves and
washed his hands. "We'll give him the diazepam and continue
with the steroids." Roy tried to remain detached from the
rest of the activity in the room, but failed miserably.
"The patient in Treatment Room 3 wasn't so lucky," Dr.
Morton said grimly. Roy looked up quickly.
"The baby from the fire… "
"No," Morton answered. "I'm afraid we had an
elderly man with a heart condition in three. The baby is up in
Peds ICU. She’s still critical, though." Roy nodded,
relieved.
"I better go update the guys." Reluctantly, he left
the room. Chet was waiting outside the door, along with Cap, Mike,
and Marco.
"Well?" asked Cap. Roy gave them the update on his
partner’s condition. Cap sighed. Mike spoke up,
"That was a lot of chemicals to be housed in a residence!" Roy nodded. Chet shook his head.
"Man, some people... and with small kids in the house. I don't get it." Marco nodded.
"It's too bad the cops couldn't bust those people before
this. Poor Johnny."
"Gage will be okay. He always pulls through, right Roy?"
Cap reminded them.
Roy frowned.
"I hope so Cap."
"We have to get back to the station. I hate to do this to
you, pal," placing a hand on Roy’s shoulder, "but
we're shorthanded. I called in a replacement for John, but we
need you to finish the shift." Roy sighed, nodding.
"Okay, Cap. I’d like to talk to Early before we go." He turned to leave, and stopped. "Who is Johnny's replacement, Cap?" Cap looked uncomfortable, and from his Captain’s reaction, Roy knew who it was even before he opened his mouth. Roy’s head dropped.
"Um… Craig Brice." The two men said
simultaneously. He sighed, and entered Johnny's room. He walked
over and stood next to the bed. The anxiety he felt, evident in
his features.
"Roy, he'll be okay," Morton said, trying to assure the
worried paramedic. "At least now we know what we're dealing
with." Roy nodded.
"Yeah," he said softly. Although he'd witnessed his
partner under these circumstances on more than one occasion,
knowing he had always obviously pulled through before; Roy was
finding it very difficult to tear himself away this time.
"Well Johnny, I have to get back to work now. You behave
yourself and take it easy on the nurses," he paused for a
few moments, almost expecting Johnny to open his eyes. "You'll
never guess who I'm stuck with for a partner." Roy placed a
hand on John's arm.
"On second thought, you probably would. Better get well soon,
partner, or you’ll have to visit me in prison for assault...or
something worse." He smiled at his little joke, patting John’s
arm.
"They're ready to move him now, Roy," Dr. Early said,
kindly. "Don't worry, he’ll pull through." Dr.
Early walked Roy to the door. "You can stop by later and see
him, if you get a chance. We'll be sure to call you, if there's
any change." Roy nodded and the doctor gave him a pat on the
shoulder. He took one last glance back at his partner and then
left. He walked out to the squad, zombie like, suddenly feeling
everything. The physically draining fire and rescue combined with
the emotionally draining situation of Johnny's illness. He was
exhausted. Sliding into the driver's side seat, he spoke quietly
to the squad, "if only I could take the rest of the shift
off." With the shortage, he knew there was no chance of that.
Roy drove the squad back to the station in a pensive mood. He
decided a nice hot shower and something to eat would make him
feel a little better. Backing the truck into the bay, he wearily
climbed from the cab and went for the locker room. He ran into
his temporary partner, Craig Brice, and he felt his stomach knot.
"Evening, DeSoto," Brice greeted evenly.
"Brice," Roy managed to say. He only wanted to get
into the shower and skip the pleasantries.
"How is Gage?" Brice asked.
"Doctors assure me that he’ll pull through." He
really didn’t feel like talking about it.
"Well, smoke inhalation is hard to avoid in a burning
structure...unless, of course, one uses the regulation SCBA the
department so generously provides for us." Roy took a deep
breath, and began slowly counting to 10.
"Look, Brice, I’d really rather take a shower right
now than debate whether or not Johnny should have saved a baby’s
life," he turned, and walked away, ending the exchange.
Continued in Chapter Two