Chapter One
A wall of dreary, white fog is all that can be seen from the tall windows of Station 51. And the monotonous patter of rain on the glass is about the only sound that can be heard, other than Roy's low grumbles of frustration as he fidgets with the knobs and antenna of the television, trying to get a clear picture through the haze of weather-induced static.
Johnny scowls in irritation as the lights overhead flicker, distracting him from the newspaper article he's trying to read. "You'd think with all this bad weather, we'd get at least one call..."
"You would think that, yeah..." Chet agrees dully from his seat at the dining table, Marco and Stoker grunting their agreement.
"It is amazing. There's almost no visibility out there," Roy says, finally abandoning his struggle to come up beside his partner at the window. Rubbing the condensation away does nothing to reveal anything of the world beyond them. If he didn't know better, he would swear they'd entered the Twilight Zone.
"I mean, I'm not asking for a car accident...but how has nothing happened today?" Johnny demands, tossing his newspaper onto the table. "It's the morning commute and I don't even hear any traffic out there."
"Maybe it's aliens." Chet deadpans, earning the annoyed glares of his coworkers. Even Henry sighs audibly from his perminant residence on the couch. Admittedly, that pulls a smirk from Johnny, who's just opening his mouth for a backhanded retort when he's interrupted by dispatch tones.
Every man in the station jumps to their feet, but all except for two sit back down with a disgruntled huff when only the paramedics are requested.
Squad 51, woman down, 8825 Sherman Street, cross street Main, time out 1215.
As Roy slides into the drivers seat, Johnny quickly locates the address on the map before joining him in the squad. The sirens begin to wail as they pull out onto the misty highway, Roy leaning forward in his seat and squinting through the fog.
"Hang a left on Chestnut," Johnny advises, wiping at the condensation with his sleeve.
"Yeah."
Ten minutes later, Squad 51 pulls into the short driveway of Sherman Street Daycare - a squat, one-story building sitting in solitude behind a tall, white fence. There's no one outside and the front door is closed.
Biophone and drugbox in hand, the paramedics jog up the sidewalk to the door, which cracks open before they even get a chance to knock. They're greeted by a girl no older than nine years old with tear stricken blue eyes.
"Are you the firemen?" She asks between nervous hiccups.
"That's right," Roy confirms, offering a small smile. "Can we come in?"
The little girl nods and backs away from the door, letting it hang open so they can enter. It doesn't take long for the partners to spot the problem. A young woman lays motionless on the purple-carpeted floor, a small crowd of sniffling children surrounding her.
"Uh, who called 911?" Roy asks the girl who let them in. Meanwhile, Johnny is calmly carrolling the children away from the unconscious woman.
"I did," she replies shakily.
"And, uh, what's your name?"
"Marcy."
Roy smiles and tells her she did the right thing by calling them. "Are there any other adults here with you?"
"No."
"Is this woman your teacher?"
"Yes..."
Roy looks over his shoulder at the sound of Johnny snapping open the biophone and drugbox. There's a stethoscope already hanging around his neck. "Well, Marcy, can you tell me what happened?" He asks as soothingly as possible.
"Miss Lizbeth was reading us a story but then she fell over and hit her head on the floor...is she dead...?"
"No, no, sweetheart, she's not dead," Roy assures her, seeing the fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. And Marcy's not the only one. All of the children are crying, some more softly than others... "She's just probably not feeling well."
"Can you help her...?"
"We're going to do our best."
"Roy." At the sound of his partner's voice, Roy joins Johnny by the woman's side, picking up the biophone as Johnny prepares to take the woman's blood pressure. "Pulse 65, respirations 15..."
"Rampart, this is Squad 51."
"Go ahead, 51." Dixie replies from the other end.
"Rampart, I've got a victim here. Female, approximately twenty-five years old. She's unconscious and unresponsive but breathing on her own. No visible injuries. Pulse is 65, respirations 15. Standby for BP."
"Standing by." Dr. Brackett says, his voice replacing Dixie's.
"BP 120/80." Johnny tells him.
Roy repeats it to Rampart and there's a short pause on Brackett's end. It's no mystery why. Her vitals are perfect. So why is she unconscious...?
"51, is there someone at your location who can tell you what happened?"
"Uh, negative, Rampart. The victim is a daycare teacher, the only other people are young children. According to one of them, the victim was reading and suddenly fell over."
"10-4, 51. Establish an IV D5W-TKO and transport."
"10-4, Rampart. IV D5W-TKO." Almost exactly then, they hear the distant sirens of the ambulance closing in.
Johnny presses the needle into the teacher's arm as Roy sets up the drip. Some of the children yelp at the sight of the IV. One screams.
As soon as the IV has been established, Roy runs out to hold the door for the gurney, which is wheeled in, loaded up, and taken back out. Instictively, Johnny moves to follow his partner out to the ambulance, only to be stopped a raised eyebrow from Roy.
"What?" he asks.
"Someone's gotta stay here with the kids until their parents show up."
"Then you stay!" Johnny insists, glancing nervously back at the crowd of teary eyes and sniffles.
"Why me?"
"Well...because! You've got kids of your own! You're better with them than I am." Roy has to admit, it's a compelling argument. And yet...
"Come on, Johnny, you're a big boy. You'll do fine." With a playful smack on the arm, Roy smiles innocently and walks out, riding off to Rampart in the back of the ambulance.
Sirens keening, the ambulance turns the corner on Main, giving them a straight shot to Rampart General. From the front seat, DeSoto hears the attendants call in their ten minute ETA. But in the back of the vehicle, Roy presses two fingers to the daycare teacher's carotid, taking a careful pulse.
Holding steady... Same with respirations and BP.
Roy sits down and stares thoughtfully at the woman's face. She shows no signs of distress, coloration is good, but no reaction to stimulus. She's definitely comatose.
Just to be safe, the paramedic searches her again for injuries, paying especially close attention to the head and neck. But comes up empty. As far as he can tell, there's nothing wrong with her...
Hopefully Brackett or Early will have more luck.
Roy is just about to reconnect with Rampart when the ambulance suddenly swerves, tires squealing. The driver shouts something that Roy doesn't quite catch right before they hit the curb and tip onto their side with a deafening crash.
"Uh, h-hello? Is this Mrs. Howard? Uh, hi, yeah. I'm Fireman John Gage over here at Sherman Street Daycare-no...no, there was no fire...yeah, your son's fine...I just need-hello? Mrs. Howard? Hello?" With an loud sigh, Johnny slams the phone down on the receiver and swears quietly under his breath. That was the last parent he could try, the only one actually home. All of the others he's assuming are at work or out somewhere away from the phone.
Peeking out through the office window, he sees the fifteen young children sitting glumly on the carpeted floor. The oldest one-the girl who called 911-is trying to read to them from a storybook but most of the kids aren't listening. Some are still crying.
Damn that Roy.
Now he's stuck here with fifteen sobbing kids with no idea what to do. From the schedule on the wall, class doesn't end until five! It's barely past noon! He supposes he could call the guys at the station to come help out but they've got to be there if a real emergency arises.
Guess he'll just have to figure it out...
Standing up from the chair behind the desk, Johnny scrubs a nervous hand through his hair and opens the door. The kids whip around to stare at him and he freezes in place.
"Are our parents coming to get us?" Marcy asks, gripping the picture book to her chest like a lifeline.
"Uh, no, not yet." Johnny tells them. "I could only get ahold of Tommy's mother but I'm not sure if she's coming yet..." Gage's stomach twists in a knot at the sight of fresh tears and glum, little faces. He's always known he isn't good with kids. This little escapade has just reaffirmed that knowledge. Come on, what would Roy say? "But uhh...hey, no need to be so down...everyone's parents will be here to pick you up at the same time as every other day."
"Will you stay with us until they do?" Marcy asks timidly.
With a soft smile, Gage nods his head. "Of course I will." A tug on his pant leg suddenly draws his attention to another little girl probably four years old.
"Mister Fireman? I have to go potty."
Johnny pales visibly. Damn you, Roy...
"10-4, 36, transport as soon as possible." Before she even hangs up the biophone, Dixie hears the emergency line beeping. With a tired sigh, the nurse hangs up with squad 36 and picks up the red phone. "Rampart General, nurse McCall speaking."
"Dixie? Oh thank God it's you."
"Johnny? Is that you?"
"Yeah, Dix, I've uh...I've got a bit of a situation here..."
Startled by the uncharacteristic fear in the paramedic's voice, nurse McCall moves to the window with the phone in hand, waving for Dr. Brackett as he steps out of the staff lounge with a cup of coffee. "Just a second, Johnny, I've got Kel coming."
"Wha-no, no it's not that kind of emergency, Dix."
Confused, Dixie flashes Kel a raised eyebrow as he enters the room. "Well if it doesn't require a doctor, then why are you calling the emergency line?"
"Who is it?" Brackett asks.
"It's Johnny Gage," she tells him.
"Well it is an emergency! Sort of..."
"Sort of an emergency? Johnny, you know it's important for this line to be open at all times-"
"I-I know, I know, but I couldn't get ahold of Joanne or Captain Stanley so I figured...you know..."
The fireman still sounds borderline frantic so Dixie gives up with a shake of her head. "Alright, what's the problem?"
There's a short pause in which McCall thinks she hears a little girl talking in the background. Johnny says something away from the phone that sounds like 'just a second' before a door closes and Johnny is talking in a low voice, like he doesn't want someone hearing him.
"Uhh, has Roy come in yet with that daycare teacher?"
"No, not yet...they're due here any second though."
"Okay, well, he left me here with a whole classroom of little kids and, Dix, I got no idea how to take care of children! I don't know what he's tryin' to pull here but it isn't funny! Now, now look...there's this little girl and she has to go the bathroom and I guess she needs help or somethin' but...bu-Dix are you laughing at me?!"
Between poorly concealed fits of laughter, Dixie shakes her head and quickly denies it. "No, no, I'm only coughing...please, go ahead Johnny..."
"Now look, Dix, this is serious!"
"Oh-oh I can tell..." At the look on Kel's face, Dixie lowers the phone for a moment and quickly describes Johnny's "problem" to him. The doctor smirks and motions for Dixie to hand him the phone.
"Johnny? This is doctor Brackett."
"Dr. Brack-listen. I just need a little bit of advice here, put-put Dixie back on!"
"Now just calm down, I think I've got the solution to your problem."
After a second of stunned silence, Johnny urges the doctor to tell him. And although the good doctor's voice is serious as can be, Kel's face betrays his amusement, much to Dixie's entertainment.
"You'll want to start an IV with ringers lactate and call for an ambulance-"
Click.
Brackett stares down at the phone for a moment before looking up at Dixie with a grin. "He hung up."
"That'll teach him to call the emergency line for nonsense," Dixie says, still laughing. With a chuckle from the doctor, Dixie returns to manning the nurse's station as Kel heads back to work.
As he slowly reawakens, Roy finds himself laying on his left shoulder, his body unceremoniously sprawled on the side of the ambulance, which now lays on the ground... Despite a thumping pain in his head and the sting of glass in his skin, Roy struggles to free his tangled legs from the gurney and push it upright once more.
Through the thin metal walls of the vehicle, he can hear a crowd of people murmuring with concern. As well as an oncoming paramedic squad.
Rubbing his head, Roy swiftly assesses himself for injuries and finds nothing too substantial, other than a few moderately deep lacerations in his left arm and cheek, glass still under the skin, and a decent contusion on his forehead.
Crawling onto his knees, he checks the daycare teacher's pulse, counting out a steady rhythm, if not slightly elevated now. Her respirations are coming quicker as well. Unfortunately, in the mess in the back of the ambulance, he can't find his pressure cuff so there will be no BP for a while...
A moment later, the doors are pried open and a man dressed in a familiar uniform greets him with professional concern. Roy has never met this paramedic, so he must be new. But he handles himself well as he helps Roy wheel the patient onto the street and then checks on the driver and passenger, who likely took the brunt of the accident.
The man's partner takes the teacher's vitals and pops open a biophone, relaying the information to Rampart, while simultaneously suggesting that Roy sit down so he can take his vitals as well.
"Pulse is 98, respirations 19," Roy volunteers, earning a grateful smile from his colleague.
"Rampart, this is squad 22. How do you read?"
"Reading you loud and clear, 22." It's Dr. Early's voice on the phone.
"Rampart, I've got four patients here. Patient one is female, aged approximately 25 years old. Vitals are: respirations 25, pulse 110, BP 120/80. She is comatose with no visible injuries, and she was in the back of ambulance that was involved in an accident.
"Patient two is male, 30 years old. Pulse is 98, respirations 19, BP to follow. He is conscious and alert. He has several lacerations on the face and left arm and a contusion on his forehead. BP is 100/70." As the paramedic removes the pressure cuff from Roy's arm, his partner reappears with vitals and injuries of the driver and passenger, although Roy suddenly can't focus on what they're saying...
He scrambles over to the gurney, where his patient has suddenly stopped breathing...