DISCLAIMER: I do not own BBC Casualty or any of its characters.
A/N: Hey all! Apologies for the late update. I meant to post this chapter over the weekend but I forgot it was Easter! Here is Chapter 4. Please read and review if you have the time. As always, enjoy x
UNTIL WE GO DOWN
- Bad Dream -
Flaked paintwork. A streak of white amidst a vivid blue where the lorry had collided with the ambulance. The distinct scent of burning rubber fills the air as Dylan warily approaches the other vehicle. The driver's door is wide open, and behind the wheel he can make out the slumped figure of a man. He knows he shouldn't get too close without his protective gear, but he can get close enough to see if he's still breathing.
"Hello?"
The driver babbles incoherently to himself, his hands gripping the steering wheel. Empty energy drinks are piled high on the adjacent seat. His shoulders shake uncontrollably.
"My name's Dylan." He edges closer. "I'm a Doctor. Are you injured?"
The man snaps out of his reverie, eyes frantic. A rabbit in the headlights.
"It's alright." Dylan holds up his hands diplomatically. "I won't come too close. I'm here to help. Have you got a phone we can use to call the emergency services?"
"I..." The man swallows nervously, stuttering over his words. "I already t-tried, mate. Can't g-get any signal." He laughs suddenly, verging on hysterics. "I even tried b-beeping the horn, but I don't t-think there's any... anyone around to hear." Reluctantly, he lets go of the wheel, flexes his trembling fingers. "I can't seem to stop sh-shaking."
"You're in shock," Dylan states. "It's a perfectly natural response. Just give yourself a minute or two."
A groan, like some kind of wounded animal, reaches his ears. The fence will not hold forever. And there is no telling how long it will take for help to arrive.
"Hey." Pravi offers a smile, her grey pallor having regained some of its previous warmth as she walks over to join him. "I've still got one good arm here. What can I do?"
"We need to secure the ambulance," Dylan replies, grateful for her assistance. "There must be something we can use to hold it in place." The possibility of the vehicle sliding further down the embankment into the river, with Faith still inside, sends a chill down his spine. Inspiration strikes. He spins back to the lorry driver. "Rope. Have you got any rope?"
The man nods.
"Yeah. Yeah, I t-think so." He starts to move, and then squeezes his eyes shut in pain. "Should b-be in the back. On the right-hand s-side."
His face is whiter than a sheet, but his shaking has subsided a little.
"Rope?" Pravi queries, an eyebrow arched curiously.
"For the ambulance," Dylan explains, moving to the back of the lorry and searching for the object in question. He unhooks a length from inside, weighs it in his hands. It looks decent enough. "I don't think that fence will hold much longer."
It's in that moment that the fence gives way, and the ambulance slides out of sight.
He runs like hell. Swearing loudly. Heart hammering. Blood pounds in his ears, drowning out everything else. He calls her name; he does not hear her answer. The cab points toward the sky, the wheels caught on what remains of the twisted fence. It is by no means a small miracle that the ambulance hasn't rolled completely into the river.
"Faith! Faith, are you okay?"
Realising there is no more time to lose, Dylan swiftly ties the rope to the overturned ambulance, securing it with the safest knot he can think of.
"Here." Pravi calls. "Throw me the other end!"
She catches the length of rope with surprising ease - considering she only has use of one hand - and proceeds to wrap it around one of the bumper bars. Dylan paces over to her, helps her secure a firm knot and tests its strength.
"That'll hold it, right?" Pravi eyes the vehicle warily.
"Well, yes, that is the idea."
He could, Dylan realises belatedly, have asked the lorry driver to reverse his vehicle and pull the ambulance to safety - had the lorry not jack-knifed awkwardly across the road. At least if the fence does completely give way the lorry should be able to hold its weight. Providing the rope is strong enough, of course.
"I'll check him over, shall I?" Pravi motions discreetly toward the driver, and he nods his agreement. "Wait." Her steps halt. "Can you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
Furrowed eyebrows. Strained ears. Confusion flits over her face, and then she shrugs.
"Nothing. Must be my imagination. You check on Faith and I'll sort the driver out, yeah?"
Spinning on his heels, Dylan walks hastily in the direction of the ambulance, attempting to assess the situation. Pain slices through his shoulder like ice. He shakes his head. He needs to focus.
"Faith?"
"Dylan?" Her voice is small. "What happened?"
"The, um..." His mind reels. "The fence holding up the ambulance gave way. We've tied a rope between the ambulance and the lorry across from us. It should hold it in place until the emergency services arrive." He considers the knot he's tied. "I hope," he mutters under his breath.
"You found a phone then?"
She sounds so hopeful. Trusting.
"No." Dylan breathes. "No, not yet."
And then, a second later, as if summoned by their very words: the quiet ringing of a phone.
His hand instinctively reaches into his pocket, and then he realises his has no battery. The sound is coming from inside the ambulance.
"Faith, answer the phone!"
A muffled groan.
"I can't get to it, Dylan."
"Okay. Okay, maybe..." He steps lightly onto the fence, tests its stability. "Maybe I can go down the bank and reach it from there."
"No." A sharp intake of breath. "No, Dylan, you can't."
"Why not?"
"Because the back of the ambulance is underwater," Faith responds, and the sound she makes next is caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "You'd have to swim to get in here."
Part of him is defeated, the other rises in denial. Perhaps it's not as bad as she thinks it is. Perhaps there's still a way. Gripping onto the fence with one hand, Dylan crouches down and shuffles forward.
He has to at least try.
His fingers shake, shoes skidding, and it soon becomes clear that there is no possible way to reach the back of the ambulance. Not without plunging himself into the river.
"No." He scrambles back onto the road. "No. That's not going to work."
Ideas push forward, colliding with each other. Maybe he can find another length of rope. Lever himself down. Dylan shakes his head in frustration. No. That would be ridiculous, not to mention reckless.
"Faith, are you sure you can't reach it?"
The ringing stops, and with it their immediate chances of calling for help.
"Okay." He swears under his breath. "Okay, nevermind."
A throbbing in his shoulder, pain creeping around the socket. He has to focus, has to concentrate.
"Okay, you said the back of the ambulance was underwater? How... how much exactly? Are you dry? Are you safe?"
"I'm fine," Faith replies, but he isn't convinced. "The stretcher's wedged itself between me and the doors so I'm... I'm not going to fall in if that's what you're asking."
"Alright." Next step. Focus. "I'm going to go and get help. There must be a phone box or a house or something along here somewhere. I didn't see anything on the way so I'm going to keep going. We can't be that far off the main road."
"It's about ten minutes away, I think" Pravi interjects. "Or thirty, maybe? On foot." She squints, rubs a hand over her brow. "I don't know."
Thirty minutes. And then at least another eight for the emergency services to arrive. He wipes the sweat from his face, salty and strangely cold considering the summer temperature.
"Dylan..."
"I'll be back as soon as I can. Pravi is right here." He nods at the paramedic, beckons her to join him. "Aren't you, Pravi?"
"Yeah," she calls cheerily. "I'm here."
The driver stands a few meters away, having finally decided to leave his vehicle. There's a tear in his jacket, a nasty gash along his jaw, but aside from that he doesn't look too worse for wear. He trembles still, but there's a look of brave determination on his face that had not been there before.
"If you get any signal or someone happens to drive down this godforsaken road, you call for an ambulance, okay?" Dylan instructs firmly. He looks back at their vehicle. "And, um probably the fire brigade too."
Pravi salutes with her good hand.
"Got it."
He stares at the road ahead. Wisps of grey cloud have gathered in the skies above, bringing with them a terrible sense of foreboding.
"You're not on your own, okay, Faith? You're going to be fine." A mild reassurance. He places a hand on the cab, pats it lightly. "I'll be back."