When the wind blows
by Katy, Alice, Nifty, Starbuck,
Rick C, Sheryl, MJ, Rookie Dee, Cameron, Pat, Lisa D, Goober,
Robin W., Rhys, Kathy, Rookie Carol, Dee, Star
Part 2
While Chet and Marco began digging, Roy and Captain Stanley looked around. Not far from the pile where Chet had last seen Johnny, the Captain spied a small 2x3foot door. He tried to push it open but found that explosions had buckled the frame. He thought that it led to a storage area.
"Lopez, Kelly, DeSoto, I found blood." he yelled. The men rushed over. "Gage, can you hear me? Are you in there?" They all held their breath waiting for some kind of response.
"Cap?" Came a broken reply.
"Johnny!" Roy shouted, pulling at the door, trying to
budge it just enough to get a crow bar under it.
"Whoa, Roy, slow down." Chet said, pushing aside rubble
from the door. "He must have crawled in there after I took
the kid from him," Chet surmised.
"Hang on Johnny, we're here," encouraged the blonde
paramedic.
"Don’t, there’s no hope for me." He collapsed
back onto the floor of his would be crypt. He was resigned to the
fact that this time there was no escape for him, this time he'd
pushed his luck to far.
"Don't you talk like that Johnny!" Admonished Roy;
determined now, more than ever, to release his friend from the
confines that held him captive.
~*~
Johnny tried to change position but he hurt too badly. This is
it; I’ve pushed my luck too far. Johnny looked back toward
the door. There’s no way. He could hear his friends digging
and pushing on the door.
"Johnny, don't give up. We're almost there," came Roy's
muffled, reassuring words though the door. Johnny grinned in his
waning world of awareness. Roy always was strong and solid.
"Uh, Roy," Johnny croaked. "Please don’t
worry yourself."
"Johnny," yelled Roy, through the door. "We're
close." Johnny could only groan as another wave of pain
passed through him. He wasn't even sure what his injuries were at
this point. He didn't want the rest of the crew to get hurt
because of him. On the verge of slipping into the fog of
unawareness, Johnny remembered the boy.
"Chet, did you make it out with the kid?"
"Yeah, he’s okay. Only smoke inhalation. Concentrate on
staying with us, Johnny, okay?"
"I’m glad he’s gonna be okay. I’m hurting bad,"
managed Johnny. "I’ll feel better once I get some sleep."
"Johnny, you can’t sleep, stay awake." Roy
admonished.
~*~
Chet watched as Roy and the others worked on the door. His guilt making him stand back. 'It's my fault. All my fault, kept rolling through his head. As the men dug, a shift caused the wall to crack. "Everybody back" Captain Stanley yelled. The crew withdrew reluctantly. "If we keep digging, that wall is going to come down on his head." The men felt their hearts drop as they realized they couldn't get to their friend. Suddenly Chet yelled.
"A jack!"
"What?"
"Roy, you and Gage were talking the other day about some kid
with his head stuck in a window. You couldn't cut the window, so
you used a jack to lift the frame." Roy turned to the
Captain.
"He's right we could use jacks to support the frames just enough to open the door. Please it might be his only chance." Captain Stanley looked at his men.
"Okay! Let's give it a try," Stanley said. He turned
to Chet. "Chet, go grab the jacks and a blanket." Roy
leaned back to the door to talk to his partner.
"Johnny, can you hear me?"
"Yeah. I'm really hurting bad, Roy." He paused,
coughing. "I think I've used up all my nine lives."
"Johnny, come on! Hang in there! You are gonna be fine!
Can you tell me your symptoms?" There was silence from the
other side of the door. "C'mon Johnny! Answer me!" Chet
returned with the jack and blanket. Chet and Marco set up the
equipment and then waited for the okay to begin. Johnny finally
answered.
"I have a rapid pulse, my respiration is shallow, my chest
hurts, I could have several broken ribs. I think I have a piece
of metal in my side because it hurts. I’m bleeding from
somewhere in my back because my coat is sticking to me."
"Okay, we’re about to try to get you out of there."
Roy nodded to Chet and Marco to go ahead. The men began the slow
process of jacking up the door frame.
"Wait!" Johnny screamed. The men stopped
"What’s wrong?" Stanley asked.
"Cap?"
"Yeah, it's me Johnny."
"Cap, it hurts. Don’t move…" his voice
trailed off.
"Johnny, are you still with us?" Chet yelled. There
was no response from the other side of the rubble. "Cap, we
gotta get him out of there, NOW!" The men looked at Chet in
shock. The only other time they saw him like this was when the
snake had bitten Johnny.
"I agree with Chet, Cap," Roy replied. "It doesn't
sound like he's doing so good." Marco nodded his agreement
as well.
"We have to proceed carefully. We pull this wall down and
none of us will be getting out of here. We have to go slow and
easy." Stanley looked around the collapsed building looking
for somewhere safer to start the extrication process. There wasn't
one. He rubbed his chin, and looked into his men's faces. "Okay,
men let's get started. But let’s take it easy. Johnny yelled
when we started to jack up the frame, maybe he's pinned under
something right at the door."
"And the more weight we put on that, the more we hurt Johnny."
Chet finished. "Can we move it over a few feet?"
Stanley looked at the placement of the jack and envisioned it
moved several feet over.
"I think that would be a good idea, Kelly." Hank added,
"We'd better put up some shoring, so the whole thing doesn't
come down on him or us."
Chet positioned the jack while Marco and Roy found appropriate
shoring material. Come on, Johnny. Hang in there. You've got to
be okay. Each man thought the same thing. Chet slowly jacked up
the debris, until they heard the creaking of the door frame.
"That's it!" Chet announced. Roy used the pry bar to open the door.
"Johnny?" he yelled as he looked into the space. He looked back. "Cap, I need a flashlight!" Hank handed the light to Roy, who shone it around the confined space.
Roy sighed in relief when he saw a pair of legs and glimpses of a brown turnout coat in the rubble. "I see him!" He closely examined the debris pile, then turned around to face Hank. "It looks like he's got most of the ceiling on top of him, and there's a couple of broken beams lying across him. We should be able to dig him out. I'll need the backboard and a hard collar." He crawled into the rubble and started to carefully remove the debris. Roy uncovered Johnny's face and quickly palpated his unconscious partner's neck. He let his breath out when he felt the rapid, weak fluttering beneath his fingertips.
"Marco, you heard the man..." Hank stated, gesturing
for Marco to get the equipment, "and hurry!"
"You got it, Cap!" he answered and jogged out to get
the equipment.
"Let's get this debris off him," Roy said, picking up a
large piece of broken wood and tossing it to the side. Chet was
there, carefully clearing away the rubble. "Chet, help me
move this beam," Roy directed, as he took hold of one side.
The two men struggled but were able to move the beam off of John.
Roy knelt down next to his partner. "Johnny? Can you hear me?"
There was no response. He turned back to Captain Stanley. "Cap,
is Marco back?" A moment later, Marco, and Mike rushed over,
carrying the backboard, and trauma box. Roy placed the collar on
Johnny, and they carefully ‘log rolled’ him onto the
backboard. They carried him out of the rubble, over to the
waiting ambulance. As Roy wrapped the B/P cuff around Johnny’s
arm, he realized that his partner wasn't breathing. "Marco
get the ambo-bag," Roy yelled, as he grabbed for equipment.
He checked the pulse; it was fading fast. Putting monitors on his
partner, he listened as the Captain contacted Rampart. "Hang
on partner"
"Roy they want vitals," Stanley said.
"Pulse weak, BP 60 by palpation, wait.... defib paddles," Roy wrapped his stethoscope around his neck and grabbed the paddles as Mike handed them over. "400 watt seconds,"
Mike counted off the wattage.
"1, 2, 3, 400 watt seconds." Roy strategically placed the paddles and yelled,
"Clear." Chet watched as Roy shocked the still form. Once, twice, a third time. As he watched the small screen, a normal rhythm appeared. He took the bio-phone from Captain Stanley and began speaking. "Rampart victim has multiple lacerations and debris embedded in his back, side and neck area. There is one large piece in the right side under the arm and slightly rear of the chest, I think that's the cause of respiratory difficulties. No breath sounds on right side."
"Start IV with Ringers, stabilize, and transport. Do not remove the object. Monitor vitals and report any changes."
"10-4 Rampart. IV with ringers, stabilize, and transport. Ambulance is on scene ETA 15 minutes." As the ambulance pulled away, Stanley walked up to Chet.
"Chet, take the squad. Have them look at that hand as well. Call as soon as there's word." Chet looked at the cut on his hand. He was numb to any pain. The pain in his heart, and the guilt eating at his mind out weighed it. As he climbed in the squad, he said a silently prayer to whomever might be listening.
The mixed wails of the Ambulance and Squad Sirens hammered at Chet's mind, warring with the harsh voice that screamed it's relentless accusation: You were warned…but did you listen? You did nothing to protect him. This is your entire fault.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Chet mumbled repeatedly. Fear constricted his chest and knotted his stomach. What was happening inside the back of that ambulance? What condition was John in? Had his heart stopped again? "It should be me in that ambulance.... not Johnny!' Seconds later, as if fate had decided to heed the unspoken, desperate wish, it happened. He followed the ambulance through a busy intersection. So intent on the condition of his friend, Chet never saw the truck that didn’t heed the screaming sirens. With an alarmed cry, he jerked hard on the steering wheel, sending the squad careening wildly across the road. It smashed head on, into the trunk of a towering palm tree.
~*~
Roy's head jerked up from monitoring Johnny's vitals as he heard the agonizing crunch of metal as the accident occurred behind the ambulance. "Stop!" he yelled to the driver. He was torn between getting Johnny to the hospital, and wanting to help the people behind them. The driver pulled over and turned to look at Roy. "Call dispatch. The squad has been in an accident. Keep an eye on Johnny. I'm going to check on Chet," he yelled as he opened the door and hopped out.
~*~
Chet could hear hissing and wondered briefly if there was a
snake nearby. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around,
realizing the hissing was the sound of the radiator. I’ve
got to get out of here. Roy ran up to the side of the squad.
"Roy," Chet asked. Roy looked at the trapped man,
"Are you okay?"
"I’m okay, I hear sirens, get Johnny over to Rampart." Roy looked once more from Chet to the waiting ambulance. He grinned and gave Chet's shoulder a squeeze. Chet gave a sigh of relief as the ambulance departed. He turned his head to look out the other side of the squad as a familiar voice came to his side.
"Geez, Chet," commented the voice, "better watch out. Now you won't be able to needle Gage about his driving skills." Chet blinked away some of the fog.
"Marco? What're you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the
fire?" Chet rubbed his eyes.
"Fire?" said the man; "I leave the fires to you
guys," Chet vaguely saw white teeth. "Kelly, you mean
you couldn't recognize your old friend, Frank Poncherello?"
Ponch felt a strong, steady pulse when he pressed his fingers
against Chet's neck.
"Sorry, Ponch," Chet leaned back on the driver's seat.
"I must've blacked out for a second."
"Don't worry," Ponch gently tapped Chet on the shoulder,
"help's coming. Hang in there, Man."
"I hope Gage makes it," commented Kelly. He groaned as
he lifted his left arm. "He was in pretty bad shape. He got
hurt at a fire and was in the ambulance I was following."
"Don't worry about Johnny," reassured Frank. "He'll
bounce back from this."
Ponch moved to gently lower Chet's arm back down to his side.
"Don't move Chet. Help's on the way." Chet moaned; his
head was feeling heavy, and the light hurt his eyes. He closed
them, letting himself slide into sleep. Ponch tried to rouse the
unconscious fireman. "Chet wake up. I need you to stay awake
for me," he shook his friend, mindful of the numerous cuts
and abrasions he could see.
"It’s all my fault. I laughed off the dream...."
Ponch could hear Chet's mumbles, but couldn't make any sense out
of it. He stood helplessly, one hand holding onto Chet's shoulder,
and waited for help to arrive.
~*~
Roy bent over Johnny's injured body and checked his vitals
once more. He couldn't help but wonder if he should have stayed
with Chet. The ambulance took a sharp curve and a moan escaped
Johnny's lips. Roy steadied himself and cast an anxious eye over
the unconscious man.
"Hang in there, Junior," Roy whispered. The ambulance
backed into a space in front of the emergency room doors. Roy
moved swiftly to assist the attendants as they wheeled Johnny
into the awaiting treatment room.
~*~
Squad 16 and Engine 51 pulled up beside the squad’s
accident. When Mike Stoker brought Engine 51 to a stop he looked
over and saw the color drain from his Captain’s face.
Stanley swung down from the cab of the rig.
"Marco, check and see if you can disconnect the battery.
Mike pull the reel line. Make sure there’s no leaking fuel,"
Hank ordered before jogging over to the CHP officer. He cast a
worried eye over Ponch's shoulder at Chet.
"How is he?" Ponch looked up at the tall Captain.
"He's been drifting in and out of consciousness. He’s
been mumbling something about not listening to a dream, and
Johnny’s injuries being his fault," Ponch explained.
Marco was checking around the front of the squad for a way around
the tree to open the hood. Mike began hosing down the payment.
The paramedics from Squad 16, Brice, and Bellingham, set down
their equipment on the grassy shoulder and began to assess the
wreckage to determine how to extricate their victim.
"Captain Stanley," Brice addressed his superior, "I
believe the use of the K-12 is in order." Stanley grunted an
affirmation and turned to Lopez.
"Marco, pal, get the K-12."
"Right away, Cap!" Marco hurried to get the equipment.
Ponch moved out of the way to give the firemen room to work, as
Brice wormed his way into the cab from the passenger's side to
reach Chet. Bellingham set up the biophone and prepared to
contact Rampart.
~*~
He slowly opened his eyes, instantly regretting it as the
light above him sent another wave of pain through his pounding
head.
"Well, look who decided to join us," Dixie's familiar
voice calmed his fears. Dr. Mike Morton, on the other side of the
injured man, came into view.
"Its about time," Dr. Morton was cut off in mid
sentence, as Chet attempted to get off the exam table.
"Let me up, I have to go help Johnny," He struggled
against the hands.
"Right now you need to lay down and let me finish my
examination." Mike gently held him down, trying to reason
with him. "You'll be no help to anyone if you get up and
pass out." Chet looked over at Dixie with pleading in his
eyes.
"How’s Johnny?" Dixie looked up at Dr. Morton, slightly alarmed. How much should they tell him? She quickly recomposed herself and smiled at Chet.
"Tell you what; you lie still, let the doctor do his job, and I'll see what I can find out. Okay?" Chet nodded and lay back, no longer struggling.
"He wouldn't be here if I had..." He stopped, trying not to choke up. "Let me know, okay?" With a reassuring smile, Dixie quickly slipped out of the room.
~*~
Dixie quietly left the room and started down the hall, toward the elevator. She stopped at the cafeteria, and purchased two cups of steaming coffee. Johnny had already been moved up to surgery, and she knew that Roy would be there, putting off the phone calls. She sighed, knowing that she had to tell him about Chet. She stopped in the surgery waiting room door and watched the young paramedic pacing back and forth. How much suffering did one man have to go through? At that point, she wasn't sure whom she meant, Johnny, Roy, or Chet. Roy looked anxiously at Dix, then smiled when she walked over, handing him one of the cups.
"Have you heard anything?"
"No," Dixie shook her head. "It could be a while,
though. They'll have to remove the fragments, and see how much
damage there is." She shrugged as she sipped her coffee.
"How are the boys?" asked Roy.
"They’ll be fine," said Dix. "Some smoke
inhalation, but nothing worse."
"Thanks to Johnny," Roy said solemnly. "I wonder
what Chet was so spooked about? Did he say anything to you?"
"No. He seemed very worried about Johnny, though. He wanted
me to find out what was going on. I know Kel said he'd try to
call you with an update." Dixie looked up as the phone rang.
A white-haired volunteer seated at a small desk picked up the
receiver. She held out the phone. "Gage family. Telephone
call for the Gage family." Roy stepped over and took the
phone.
"Yea, thanks, Doc. When can I see him? Okay, thanks."
Roy handed the phone back.
"So?" inquired Dixie.
"He's out of surgery and in SICU. They had to put him on a
ventilator and he's in a coma right now," Roy quietly stated.
"Brackett, said it was touch and go for the next 24 hours,"
he told her.
"You want to tell Chet, or do you want me to?"
"You can, I’ll go with you though." Roy told
her. Dixie took Roy's arm as they slowly walked out of the
waiting room. She couldn't offer much else but her support and
strength and she was determined to hang on to the hope that
Johnny would indeed recover.
Roy, on the other hand, was feeling distraught over the neutral
comments from Brackett. Despite the 'nine lives' theory, Johnny
was only human. As they approached Chet's room, Roy held back.
Roy's eyes pleaded with Dixie to let him go.
"You go ahead and be with Johnny, okay, Roy," she
stated softly. "I'll join you later."
Roy trotted toward the elevator intent on reaching Johnny's side.
His sense of urgency only increased as he heard the page, "Dr.
Brackett to SICU. Dr. Brackett to SICU, stat." Dixie also
heard the page and looked down the hallway as Roy got on the
elevator. She pushed open the door to Chet's room, intending to
make it a short visit. She gasped as she saw the empty bed.
~*~
"Excuse me, nurse, which bed is John Gage in?" The
nurse turned to look into the drug-hazed eyes of a curly haired,
mustached man.
"I was told he wasn't to have visitors."
"That's okay, I'm not a visitor, I'm a co-worker."
"Why are you in a hospital gown then?"
"Oh," he looked down at his attire. "I was in an
accident and they brought me here. I'm really worried about my
friend, can I see him?"
"I suppose," she lead the way and he followed her down
the hallway. She pushed the door open and whispered, " Only
a few minutes, he's in no condition to be having visitors, and
you belong in your own hospital bed."
" Alright, I promise" Chet told her without taking his
eyes off Johnny. He was hooked to a ventilator and had so many
tubes and wires running into and out of him they couldn't even be
counted. This is my entire fault, Chet said to himself, as he
stood there looking down at Johnny. At that moment, Roy came into
Johnny's room. Shocked at seeing Chet in the room Roy whispered
to him
" Chet what are you doing here? You belong in bed."
"Roy, you don't understand I had to see him." Chet told
him.
"What don’t I understand, Chet?"
"This." He gestured with his hand at the tubes and wires.
"This what?"
"I could have prevented all of this if I would have been listening. It’s all my fault."
"This isn't your fault, Chet. He’s a paramedic, it’s
his job to go in and help those in need." Roy reached out to
touch his friend, trying to reassure him that he was not to blame.
"I know but…"
"But what?"
"If I would have only paid closer attention to my dream I
could have save Johnny from having to go through all of this."
"Chet, a dream is a dream, nothing more. You can not blame
yourself for something that you had no control over." Johnny’s
vent alarm took that moment to go off. Brackett and Dixie ran
into the room ordering the two men out of the room. As the men
left several doctors and nurses rushed into the room. Chet and
Roy watched as the activity in the room began to heighten as more
alarms went off. A nurse hurriedly stepped over and closed the
door to the hallway, causing both men’s heads to drop at the
same instant.
~*~
Roy had pulled a chair into the hallway from the waiting room. He tried sitting down; he tried pacing, but nothing helped. A nurse stepped into the hall with a tray of used equipment.
"How is he?" Roy asked.
"He’s gonna be okay. Still not out of danger but he’ll bounce back. Dr. Brackett will be out in a minute. Roy smiled.
"Thank you." The nurse continued down the hall. Roy closed his eyes and said a small prayer of thanksgiving. He turned to Chet, sitting in a chair drugged and looking very pale. "Chet, I think you need to be back in your room." Chet looked up, confused.
"Why did Johnny have to die?" Roy frowned.
"Chet, the nurse just told us that Johnny is doing better."
"I’m so sorry, Roy, I killed him!" Chet grabbed
his head. "Man, my head hurts." Chet proceeded to stand
up with his hand on his head. "I'll be okay, Roy. Can you
help me back to my room?"
"I don't think that would be a good idea, pal. You don’t
look so good. Let me get a wheel chair."
"I feel bad, but I think if I get to my room and lay down I'll
be okay." Roy nodded, taking a firm hold on his elbow. Chet
shakily stepped towards the door and stopped. Roy waited.
"You sure you can make it back to your room?" Chet
turned to look at his friend. "Chet?"
"Roy?"
"Yeah, what's wrong?"
"I can only see you with one of my eyes."
"That can't be good." Roy said with a smile, trying not
to scare his friend.
"I'm serious. The whole left side of my body feels numb."
"Don't move." Roy carefully let go of Chet's elbow and
turned to grab the chair. He scooted the chair up behind Chet's
knees and took his elbow, lowering him to the chair. "I'll
stay with you until Brackett gets here." Chet tried to
answer but the words wouldn't come out of his mouth. Roy knelt
down beside the chair with his hand resting comfortingly on Chet's
forearm. He watched the confusion crawl across Chet's face. He
could see in Chet's eyes the question, 'what's wrong with me?’
"I don't know Chet, but at least we're in the right place to
get help." Roy smiled a reassuring smile at the frightened
firefighter. "They'll make it right. They always do."
Brackett and a nurse entered the hallway; Roy stood.
"Is there something wrong, Roy?"
"He says his left side is numb and he can't see out of one
of his eyes. He's trying to talk to me but the words aren't
coming out." Brackett squatted down on the balls of his feet
in front of the firefighter. He pulled his pen light out of his
pocket and checked Chet’s oculus reaction. Shaking his head
and standing up beside Roy, he put the pen light back in his
pocket. Chet could only stare at the floor in front of him.
"Nurse, I need you to find Dr. Early stat. I think he's had
a stroke." Roy's mouth dropped open.
"Yes, doctor," was the reply and she left the room.
"A stroke?" Roy asked, when his voice came back.
"He may have a blood clot somewhere in his system, and part
of it may have broken loose."
"A blood clot?" Roy's brain was refusing to function
properly.
"With all the trauma that he's gone through in the last
couple of hours that's what I'm suspecting. Dr. Early would be
able to tell us more after we run some tests."
~*~
Several hours later, Roy sat in the chair next to the hospital
bed where his partner lay resting quietly for a change. He
tiredly rubbed his eyes with his knuckles as he replayed the
events leading up to this minute repeatedly in his mind. He was
so lost in thought that he didn't hear the door open and was
startled when a hand rested lightly on his shoulder.
"Roy," Dixie said in a hushed voice, trying not to
disturb Johnny. "Dr. Early would like to talk to you about
Chet." She motioned toward the door with a tilt of her head,
smiling reassuringly. Roy nodded slightly and pushed himself out
of the chair with a sigh. He glanced at Johnny and preceded Dixie
through the door. "Joe's waiting for us in the lounge...you
look like you could use some coffee." Dixie noted the
fatigue etching Roy's young features.
"Yeah, guess I could. I can always count on you for that Dix,"
Roy smiled. They entered the lounge to find Dr. Early already
pouring the coffee and setting it on the table.
"Thanks Doc," Roy sat down and took a tentative sip of
the hot liquid. "How's Chet?"
"Good news Roy. Dr. Brackett was right. We found a small
clot that had broken loose, but we were able to evacuate it. With
a bit of physical therapy, Chet should recover fully and will be
back up to his old tricks in no time."
"That's great," Roy sighed and relaxed against the back
of the chair. "The station sure wouldn't have been the same
without the Phantom around."
~*~
Several days later the door to Chet's darkened room slowly opened and someone slipped inside. After crossing quietly to the window, they removed the dream catcher that Johnny had tried to give him, straightened it out, and hung it by the window.
"Sweet dreams, Chester B," the person whispered
softly, and then left the room as quietly as they had entered.
The draft from the room vent caused the small item to twist and
turn. The feather gently floated back and forth. It had a lot of
work to do.
THE END