Disclaimer: All characters and situations from the television show "Emergency!" are the property of Universal Studios and Mark VII Limited. Not copyright infringement is intended nor should any part of this publication be reproduced or redistributed without the consent of its author. This is strictly an amateur work and is designed for entertainment purposes only.
This story was written many years ago and I am in the process of working on the sequel--currently in production. However, in order to prepare for reading the sequel, I wanted to re-post this story for old fans and new fans alike! I've decided to use this forum to keep my writing active and available since many sites are down or abandoned. Thanks for reading and enjoy! Robin Eve
THE FIRST STEP
By Robin Eve
The call came in the middle of the night. The blaring klaxons tore Roy DeSoto from a sound sleep, and he stumbled into his turnout pants with his eyes half-closed, trying to still the hammering of his heart. Dimly, he heard the dispassionate voice of the dispatcher sending them to a warehouse fire. Tripping into the apparatus bay with the other members of his shift, he slid behind the wheel of the squad and started the engine, handing Johnny the call slip Hank Stanley stuffed into his hand as Hank swung around the front of the squad on his way to the engine.
The winds were blowing strong, hampering the best efforts of the LA County Fire Department. The battalion chief made assignments on his handy talkie with crisp tones. Station 51 was assigned the south end, drawing closer to the heart of the Beast raging in the large building. Metal groaned, sparks flew, water danced, and as he surveyed the building, Hank knew this performance would demand all the skills and talents of the men around him. He remained stoic as he watched his crew make their way into the inferno. I've got a bad feeling about this.
"Marco, you and John take that side of the room," Stanley shouted to his men. "Roy, Chet -- you guys come over here," he directed.
Their hoses were alive with water as they cautiously maneuvered closer to the blaze. The heat gripped their bodies as they turned, their SCBA gear providing life-giving air amidst the vacuum of this war-zone.
Suddenly, Hank heard the explosions roar above the flamesand knew the building was in its last death throes. They could do no more from here. "Let's pull out -- NOW!" he yelled, motioning for Johnny and Marco while pushing Roy and Chet toward the door. But they weren't fast enough. The blast sent the crew to the floor -- hard. Each of them struggled to move as the flames lunged out and hungrily sought more to burn. The men -- dazed yet professional -- grabbed their hoses and turned them on the flames as they backed out of the building.
"Man, I'm glad we got out of that one. Good call, Cap!" Johnny gasped as they stumbled outside. He glanced over at Roy, who was shaking his head. "A little too close for you, pal?" Johnny asked him. Roy nodded somberly.
Safely outside, the men pulled off their helmets, wiped the soot and sweat from their brows, and watched grimly as the warehouse shuddered and folded into itself. "This is going to be a bitch to clean up," Chet muttered.
Chet was right, the clean-up took hours. Each man remained silent as he methodically went about his task. No one noticed as Roy swayed for a moment and leaned against the wall to steady himself. Must be the heat, he thought. The pounding in his head grew louder and his ears were ringing. He concentrated on regulating his breathing and focusing on the clean-up tasks.
Finally, the last length of hose was tucked away on the bed of the engine, and the crew headed back. Roy's moment of dizziness had passed as quickly as it came, and he thought nothing more of it that night.
*******
Two days later, A-shift found themselves back at the station. The air was cool, the sun was bright, and the spirits of the men were light. Roy smiled easily as he walked into the kitchen. He could tell it was going to be a good day as he grabbed the paper and settled in with his cup of coffee.
"Now, Chet, you know it's a good idea!" Johnny was raising his voice, not unusual when dealing with yet another one of his 'issues' of the day.
"Sorry, Gage. Garbage is garbage. You put it in one can. The garbage man picks it up and POOF, it's gone!" stated Chet.
"Man, you are so…so…" Johnny stuttered, trying to find the right word, "…unwilling to try anything new. All you have to do is put the stuff that can be recycled into a separate container. It's not brain science!"
"They can go dig another big hole out there somewhere and save our tax dollars for really important stuff, like a pay raise!" argued Chet.
"Well, I'm going to try it. How hard can it be? Oh, I forgot, part of your brain is always on hold when it comes to new ideas!" Johnny teased.
Roy shook his head. Hank flipped the paper over and sighed. The banter between Chet and Johnny always amazed the older men.
"You can call it what you want, Gage," countered Chet, " but new ideas are for . . ."
The klaxon interrupted his jibe.
"Station 51, respond to a motor vehicle accident, car over an embankment, High Mountain Road off Pebblestone Canyon Drive. Car over an embankment, High Mountain Road off Pebblestone Canyon Drive. Time out 9:15," Dispatch blared over the speaker.
"Station 51, KMG-365," replied Hank.