The Let Down
Chapter Seven
By GCS
Dust floated in the tendril of light…ash, white from the intense heat that tore away all existence leaving only particles drifting in the smoky haze tickling his throat with every ragged breath and burning his eyes as he struggled to open them.
One moment he was making his way down the hall and the next…the next he lay half buried by the debris from the collapsed structure watching the dance of the ash in the small light that filtered through the cracks from a source somewhere that miraculously still burned.
His facemask had shattered and with every breath the particles dancing in the light seemed to move away and then pull back toward his face until they disappeared he coughed harshly sending sharp pain racing through his side…bruised ribs, he thought. He tried to move to a more comfortable position, but his legs wouldn't cooperate.
Turning his head this way and that he tried to see what was holding him hostage only to find out that the dust filled light didn't illuminate enough of the dark to allow him to see. He pulled his arm close to his body and gently…slowly felt down his side, across his hip and down his leg until he felt something strange. He pushed at it, but it didn't budge. Awkwardly, he tried again to push the object off his legs. Giving up he slid his hand back up to the buckle on his helmet. His other arm lay trapped beneath him and felt strangely numb. Unbuckling the helmet with one hand was a habit he had become expert at long ago, but his movements were sluggish making it take longer than normal. After twisting the strap this way and that, he finally got it loose and pulled the helmet off setting it to the side. Then he began working on the facemask. It wasn't any benefit broken, so he might as well get it out of the way; after that he could try to get the SCBA tank off. Then maybe he could get his legs free.
The efforts to get the SCBA off exhausted him. Getting his numb arm to cooperate had been difficult. Finally, he pushed the yellow can aside and stopped to rest.
The only sounds were his slow ragged breaths and the occasional rattling of shifting debris.
The lull in his attempts at freeing himself only gave him more time to feel the effects of the headache that had plagued him all morning. Now, along with it, he had more stiffness and even more aches. He had done a self assessment after his head had cleared and his arm had stopped having the stabbing sensations of millions of tiny prickles, and decided that he hadn't suffered any injury, or nothing more serious than a multitude of bruises. He hadn't blacked out…at least he didn't think he had. He wasn't trapped beneath the rubble. Well…he was trapped, but he didn't think any of the larger pieces had crashed down on top of him. He just had nowhere to go.
"You still with me, Johnny?" He could hear the muffled question and felt the nudge on his arm pulling him back from his mental debate.
It seemed confusing that Dwyer was there until he remembered it wasn't Roy who had gone in with him. "Um…yeah…still here…where else would I be?"
"Oh funny guy. Where else? I can tell you where else I would rather be."
"Yeah…me too." He said absently.
"Seriously, I've been trapped with you before. It's not like you not to try and find a way out as soon as the dust settles. Are you sure you're not hurt?" The truth was neither man had moved much since the collapse.
"Hasn't been that long." At least he didn't think it had. Maybe it had been longer than he thought.
"Been at least an hour."
"Yeah…I guess it has." An hour? He thought it had only been a few minutes. He just didn't have the energy to get up. He knew he needed to check on Dwyer, but he had said he was okay didn't he? And Dwyer was a paramedic, but he hadn't checked on him. Maybe everyone's worry about his ability as a paramedic after Roy's promotion was warranted. If he didn't think to check on his crew mates after a ceiling collapse, then maybe he wasn't as good as he had given himself credit for. He rubbed circular motions on his temple. Worry lines stretched across his forehead and a frown crossed his lips.
Smoke filtered into the darkness creating a gray haze that floated through the light and disappeared into the darkness like his beloved career dissipated in his mind.
He closed his eyes.
Roy pulled at boards and tugged at insulation and sheetrock until his arms ached; then he pulled away some more debris. There had been nothing from Johnny or Dwyer since the collapse. Either their HT was damaged or they were injured, or worse; that was not a thought he allowed to linger. They would find them. They had to.
"Hey Roy!" Chet hunkered near the floor with his face near a small opening. "I think I hear something…sounds like…yeah it…it's an alarm…it's an SCBA alarm! I think we're close, real close!" He pulled away another chunk making the opening slightly larger. "I think we can get through here."
Roy and Marco moved over next to Chet and listened intently. "I hear it too!" Roy began pulling at the debris around the opening. "We have to make this bigger. I need to get in there." The three men worked with renewed adrenalin.
"Johnny!" Chet called out. "Dwyer! Can you guys hear me?"
"In here!" Dwyer called back. "Hey Gage! The Calvary's here! Hurry up guys. We're out of air."
Johnny raised his head and opened his eyes squinting in the darkness towards where he thought Dwyer was. Then he lay his head back down. The continuous bleeping noise and yelling was not helping his headache.
When he opened his eyes in what he thought was just a few minutes he found himself looking into the eyes of his partner. "Roy?" He asked softly.
"Relax Johnny, we're gonna get you out of here in a few minutes. We just about have Dwyer freed." Roy looked over his shoulder at Chet and Marco's progress. "I don't know if his arm is broken or not, but other than that he's okay."
The lighting from flashlights was dim, but Johnny tried to see past Roy. "His arm?" he asked thinking Dwyer didn't tell him he was trapped, but then if he had gotten up and checked on him he would have known. The fact that his legs had been trapped was no excuse. He closed his eyes again. He had failed. He was exhausted.
"Stay with me Johnny. I need to know what's going on. Did you hit your head?"
Johnny sighed wearily. "No."
"Do you hurt anywhere?" Roy slid his hands down each of Johnny's arms and moved to his legs.
"No." Johnny swatted at Roy's hands. "I'm fine, Roy. Just need to get up." He pushed up trying to sit up. His legs were now free, but his body felt heavy and sore. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton.
"Hey, where do you think you're goin'"
Roy's hands on his chest felt like lead weights. "I'm gettin' up." Johnny squinted at Roy. "What are you doin' here anyway? You left the station before the run…didn't you?" Johnny coughed. The air was thick with smoke, and the dust that had fascinated him earlier was now nothing but an aggravation.
"Yeah…I did." Roy pushed his own mask to Johnny who took a few long deep breaths. "But when you guys passed me on the road I followed. I thought you might need my help."
That statement shot through Johnny like a spear. He glared at his friend. Even Roy thought he couldn't do the job without his help. Johnny pushed the mask back at Roy and moved to get up. "I'll see you outside." Once he got to his feet he swayed slightly. His head spun. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned a hand against the wall. Then hoping no one noticed he began a slow shuffle toward the hole that led to their escape.
"Johnny, wait!" Dwyer called to him. "We'll all go together." Johnny watched as they freed Dwyer's arm and he cradled it to his chest. "Let's go Roy. You can splint this outside."
"Is it broken?" Johnny asked him. "You never said you were trapped."
"You never said you were either." Dwyer moved past Johnny.
Johnny glared at Dwyer's back.
"You also never said you were sick." Dwyer said over his shoulder as Chet helped him duck through the exit.
"It's just a headache! Who wouldn't have a headache after half a building fell on 'em?" He waved his arm in the air causing his precarious balance to falter. He leaned more heavily on the wall and clenched his eyes.
"Hey Junior, let me help you." Roy said softly.
Johnny pulled away from Roy. "I can do it." He took a few steps. "Can't a guy have a headache? It's not like I didn't already have it before this run." Without thinking he had told them all he felt bad before the run.
"Come on John." Marco took his elbow. "Let's get out of here. I'm sure the fresh air will help your head."
Johnny nodded to Marco. He would accept his help, just not Roy's.
"I'll go first and then help you through." Marco slid through the opening and Johnny followed.
Johnny heard a slight shift behind him as he straightened. Marco pulled him forward just in time as the opening began filling in. "ROY!"
