John Watson is aboard that fateful Tube during the Derailment.
Chapter 1 The Sixth Carriage: The slow progress of understanding
Lights flickered right before it happened—the next instance, great upheaval.
In a burst of fire, the first Tube carriage lurched with unexpected force, tilted then skidded, launching screaming passengers out of their seats. Airborne projectiles of parcels, mobile devices, shoes, and purses—like a 'collider accelerator' of visible objects—were hurled forward.
Lights flickered again, as the first three carriages swayed side-to-side before braking—metal screeching louder than the human wail of terror within—and halted, haphazardly leaning against the tunnel wall, blocking the oncoming tracks.
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
When the lights flickered, Dr. John H. Watson had been standing at the Tube pole in the rear of the crowded sixth carriage. His shopping bag of last-minute baby items rested at his feet. Mere seconds before his consciousness comprehended, the former army doctor's reflexes sensed the Tube's disjointed motion. An abrupt change of trajectory wrenched his shoulders—awakening "memories" of his old army wound—with a jolt that nearly lifted his feet off the floor. Whilst the precious pink contents of his shopping bag spilled and slid across the floor, his instinctive response—a tightened grip—prevented him from tumbling forward with them.
In mere seconds, everything had come to an abrupt halt.
"huh?" A collective sigh arose from the entire sixth carriage of 163 passengers.
Once more the lights flickered, followed by sudden and total darkness.
"OoooHHHH!" Worry began as a low moan, like an extensive exhale, but the volume of concern climbed toward a roar of confusion the longer all waited for the lights to return. Wafting through the carriage was a slight smell of acrid smoke, rousing cries of dismay that amplified in panic amid the pitch.
Brightness beamed suddenly from the rear of the carriage. Like moths to the flame, eyes of all passengers in the carriage widened, beholding a solitary man, massaging his left shoulder—his mobile, in flashlight mode, raised for everyone to see.
"Stay calm!" John commanded, wincing away his mild shoulder discomfort, but his words were hardly necessary. Fellow passengers were silenced by his light. Others, already copying his action, turned on their mobile flashlights. Soon, little beacons filled the carriage. The panic had subsided, although fear remained on many faces looking toward him for direction.
"Good. Okay… I am a medical doctor! I want you to check yourselves. Is anyone hurt?" John peered through the dim carriage. "And are any emergency or medically trained personnel onboard?"
"Paramedic!" Waving from the floor, a well-dressed man in a suit and tie grabbed a pole, pulled himself up, and wiped off his dress trousers. He was obviously off duty. "Not hurt!"
"I'm a nurse, an RN!" One woman raised her hand as she crossed over to console an older woman trembling with fear.
"So am I!" said another who was gathering purses, shoes, and sundry items, including several packages of pink baby clothes, off the floor and locating their rightful owners.
"Firefighter—retained." A man came forward from the front of the carriage, walking off a slight limp caused by the jolt.
"Good! Very good!" John acknowledged, accepting the bag of baby items hand delivered by the nurse. "Your names, please."
Quickly, John was introduced to Paramedic Sam (on his way to a cousin's engagement dinner), RN1 Carol (consoling the frightened), RN2 Terri (restoring the lost items), along with Firefighter Dan (disregarding the pain of a throbbing knee). Collaborating as a team, they immediately agreed to both assess the injured and plan evacuation procedures if matters did not improve within a reasonable amount of time.
Unnerving was the lack of communication from the Underground Train Operator or any official explanation of what had just happened. And the smell of smoke lingered.
"First, we take care of what we know." John recommended and received approving nods from the emergency personnel.
Addressing the other passengers, John held up his hand in a calming gesture. "If you feel you've been injured, speak up." Immediately, the nurses, paramedic, and doctor were examining the few who made complaints, ruling out broken bones, contusions, or concussions, working by mobile lights held by nearby passengers.
Except for being stationary in a Tube tunnel, surrounded by complete darkness and the faint scent of smoke, everyone was in good shape.
Whilst the elderly lady who had been trembling, identified as Mrs. Sally Hughes, was not hurt, John could see she required more assurances. "Mrs. Hughes, would you do me this one favor?" Crouching before her he maintained eye contact, her chocolate brown irises were watery pools of tears about to spill. "You see, my wife…my wife…"
Suddenly, his heart clutched when he thought about Mary and their unborn child.
"..is...is pregnant, due any day now, and I picked up these for our baby." He quashed all emotions and continued without revealing personal sentiments. Instead, he showed the older woman the contents of the shopping bag. "Since, I'm a little busy now…would you hold them for me? Til I get back, you know? I don't want to misplace them whilst I working. My Mary would be upset if I lost them." He winked.
"Of course, young man!" Mrs. Hughes' lips stopped trembling. She glanced at the contents again. "But what's your name, dearie? So I can return them to you."
For an inexplicable moment, he imagined Mrs. Hudson serving a cuppa with biscuits.
"John Watson!" He greeted her with a warm smile, gently shook her hand, and patted her on the knee as he rose. "Dr. John Watson. Thank you, Mrs. Hughes."
Turning away, however, his smile receded and face tightened with concern. The air was hazy and the persistent smell of smoke, slight but evident, was not something they could ignore.
As if reading John's face, the retained firefighter Dan confided quietly, "This smoke means fire and it may require immediate attention." The burly man beckoned the others over with a head motion and continued. "My training with Fire and Rescue Services included Underground Emergencies. I know that without power, I can't raise Control Centre and can't get immediate status updates or gain emergency controls. I want to check up ahead. Fortunately, these are walk-through carriages. We're in the sixth carriage; in the fourth there's an extra link. Maybe, there's power up there."
"Why aren't we hearing anything from the Train Operator?" Sam kept his question confidential.
Dan and John exchanged worried looks. Dan shook his head. "Dunno, mate, may not be good up front, but one way or another, before we can evacuate, we need to locate a tunnel telephone to connect with the Line Controller and switch off the current if it isn't already off with the power outage."
"It's a plan. I'll come forward with you." John nodded, assured that the passengers in this car were not in any medical danger. "There may be more injured as we advance." Paramedic Sam agreed. So did RN Carol and RN Terri.
"We will need supplies…" Without information, John could only anticipate medical problems they might encounter and encouraged his team to consider survival skills. "See if anyone can spare some water bottles. Do people with insulin have enough for the duration…what about other meds? Is there anyone with extra supplies? How about food? Fruit or fruit juice maybe? Alcohol? We have to be prepared for both ordinary and extraordinary emergencies."
'One should always look for a possible alternative, and provide against it. Good, John! Your military and medical training are serving you well…' Out of nowhere, the doctor heard the familiar baritone. It surprised him how much comfort he derived from perceiving Sherlock's feedback—the positive as well as the negative.The link between them allowed for conversations, both real and imagined, that kept him centered. Knowing it was only in his mind didn't diminish its effectiveness.
Not more than five minutes had elapsed from the moment John turned on his mobile light to acquiring a team of qualified helpmates, settling the passengers, and collecting 'emergency kits' for the unforeseen—besides the first-aid and emergency items including gloves and shears, he ordinarily kept supplied in his jacket pockets*, but time was their enemy. What lay ahead, who lay injured, what was burning, and when rescue might arrive were perplexing unknowns.
Turning to the remaining passengers, John feigned confidence he was beginning to lose. "Stay here, remain calm, and wait until Train Crews and Operators give you instructions!" Faintly the smoke hovered in the air, but breathing was not compromised. "We're moving up to check on the status, and certainly, we'll send back word once we know anything more." He paused and steadied his gaze on each face. "A bit of advice: some of you should preserve your mobile lights so all the batteries don't drain at once."
As he departed the carriage, his backward glance revealed mobiles winking off among resolved passengers sitting patiently. He could only hope he had done the right thing, and they were not lambs waiting for the slaughter.
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
*Indebted to StillWaters1 for the brilliant idea that the civilian John Watson would carry medical supplies in his jacket pocket.
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000
AN: Each successive chapter offers more insights. I hope you will continue to read them all the way through. As always your reviews are greatly appreciated and center me. Thank you for reading!