The rain was pouring heartily out of the sky the next day, as it had
the previous, and was soaking everything in sight. People, cars, trees,
everything was drenched, dripping wet. It fell from the top of sloped
roofs, landing on passers by, irritating them greatly, and succeeding in
wetting them to their skins, their clothes heavy with rain.
Kim had managed to avoid the wet today. Bobby had given her a lift, after passing by her apartment on his way back from fetching coffee and bagels, which he had kindly shared with her. He had had enough bagels to feed a small army, and he and Kim probably wouldn't go hungry for quite a while.
But something was up today, Kim felt. Something didn't quite sit right. She had a feeling that she and Bobby would have quite a hectic day, especially after the week they had already had. There had been calls galore, enough for three times the amount of buses they had at their disposal, and the paramedics were being run into the ground further and further with each one.
And when they had arrived at the station, the last shift had looked exhausted, ready to drop where they stood, some practically crawling to their cars, some pulling themselves along on their slow and steady way to the EL.
"Looks like we missed some fun," Bobby said drolly as he and Kim poured themselves some more coffee from the percolator before starting their shift. They had changed into fresh gear, and Kim had tied her hair back. Their stethoscopes were at the ready, hanging around their necks in true organised fashion. They had checked the rig, seeing that everything was where it should be, and that nothing had been misplaced, lost, or taken. It was a little surprising.
They were wrapped up warm in long-sleeved shirts and jackets, hats atop their heads as they trudged out to the bus, jogging half the way because of the rain. Bobby had agreed kindly to drive, and Kim hadn't argued. He seemed a little too agreeable today for some reason, but Kim didn't know why. She didn't ask either.
As soon as they had started up the engine, the radio sounded, a voice saying, "Boy-5-5-3, we've got a hit and run on 75th. Two victims. Adam-5-5- 3 is en route."
"Boy-5-5-3, we're on our way," Kim replied, hitting the sirens.
"It's gonna be one of those days," Bobby said dryly as he steered away.
* * *
"I'm just not in the mood for traffic control today," Bosco complained, tugging on the steering wheel to take the next bend with controlled caution in the pouring rain. Actually, it had eased up a little, relenting slightly to ease their journey it seemed. But still, the wipers were working overtime, and Bosco had to concentrate more than normal to keep from colliding with other vehicles. Visibility was low.
"Well, if we get a call, we take it, Bos', nothing we can do about it."
Bosco looked over at Yokas, and raised an eyebrow, attention soon back on the road. "We can ignore it."
"Bos', it was a hit and run, for Christ's sakes! We can't just ignore it," Yokas informed him in no polite way, and shook her head. "I can't believe you wanna ignore a hit and run."
"I didn't say I wanted to," Bosco corrected with conviction, "I just said we could, if we didn't wanna take it. They don't know we're clear."
"Bos'," Yokas began slowly, "we were 98."
Bosco rolled his eyes, and let the conversation drop, allowing his mind to wander, but not so much that he lost his attention on the road ahead. He watched every car around him, ensuring the way was clear ahead of them. His thoughts settled rather predictably on the events of the last couple of days, and the deaths of four officers. He had worked with them a few times, even taking control of a shootout with them. He and Yokas had been the last ones on the scene, and they had been the last ones to fire their guns, taking down the final three shooters. The shooters had succeeded in killing one cop and five civilians on that day, all in cold blood. The cop had been on foot patrol, walking past their alley when they had fired in a panic, or so went Bosco's understanding.
He forced his mind to move along to something else, and he yawned discreetly. If Yokas knew he was tired, she would take over behind the wheel, and they would probably get nowhere fast... and Bosco hated dragging along at a snail's pace.
He checked each intersection in caution as he crossed over it, and let out a sigh. They were coming up on 79th, about to pass the museum where they were doing some kind of reconstructive work. Bosco drove up Columbus, waiting patiently for the radio to call them to a crime of any kind. He was bored.
Bosco only just heard the screeching of tires when Yokas screamed his name.
* * *
Faith felt the force of the other car slam into the side of the squad on the left, ramming their unit sidewards with unbelievable strength, pushing against the vehicle. Her eyes looked over in a panic to Bosco, who seemed fine. He was trying desperately to get control of the squad, without success.
She turned her head to look out of her window, and let out a cry. The side of the constructive scaffolding was coming up on them fast, and the car that had rammed them did not relent in its push. It only accelerated harder.
She heard more than felt them hit the scaffolding, the smashing of her window louder than an explosion. Seeing something push with lightning speed through the glass, she reached over instinctively, and pushed Bosco down and forward, feeling something scrape her arm painfully.
Faith remembered nothing else.
* * *
"5-5-Charlie, we have an MVA on Columbus at the museum, involving two vehicles. One of them is a 5-5 squad."
Davis performed an illegal U-turn, and slammed on the accelerator, seeing Sully turn on the lights and sirens. The adrenaline rushed through him again, and his eyes never left the front windshield as he drove.
He found himself desperate to know what had happened, and what was going on. What squad was it that had been involved? He clearly remembered hearing the involvement of a 5-5 squad. He found himself more than a little concerned.
They were about ten blocks away, and gaining speed. Cars turned out of their way as they tore down the street to the scene. Davis could hear the wailing of other sirens as they moved in as well, and he recognised them as ambulances.
Another siren far off filled the air, pouring in through the slightly opened window of the squad, and he picked it out, registering it as a fire truck.
This is not good, he thought quickly.
* * *
She coughed as she woke suddenly, trying to reach up an arm to her head, and finding she couldn't. It was pinned down, something pushed up against her chest, not allowing her to move. She could turn her head, even though it pounded, and the first thing she saw was the shattered glass on the driver's side of the squad, a gigantic metal pole having slammed its way completely through the car and out the other side, piercing the hood of the other vehicle.
Faith remembered the blow, and how she had never been so terrified or panicked in her life. Then she remembered something else. Her partner.
"Bos'?" she mumbled with all her strength, and turned her head to see him leaned forward against the steering wheel, his head turned in her direction, his eyes closed. He had tried to brace himself with his arms, which now rested on the column beside him. The pole was pressed on his back, locking him in place.
She recollected pushing him out of the path of the pole, and swallowed at how close a call it was. They both could have been killed.
Even in the pouring rain, she could make out that there was now no one in the other car. They had fled, leaving their doors open. There looked to be blood on the windshield, but at this distance she couldn't tell.
A low groan dragged her attention back to Bosco, who stirred, and tried to move. His eyes opened slowly, and he winced. One hand clenched and unclenched. He took as deep a breath as was possible, and coughed.
"Bos', are you okay?" she asked of him immediately, wanting to reach out and touch him, but remembering she couldn't.
He closed his eyes for a moment, and that was when Faith saw the blood that had run from his nose, and she was certain that he was bleeding from somewhere else. Possibly his head... she couldn't tell.
"I'm fine," he croaked, clearing his throat, "how about you?" He tried to move again, with the same result.
"I don't think I'm hurt. Just a headache."
Sirens filled the surrounding area, and through a slight haze, Faith could make out the light that pulled up outside and just over the street, where a small crowd was starting to form under umbrellas.
"Yokas! Bosco!" came the urgent cry of Sully as the man ran up, and looked in the windshield.
Bosco managed to turn his head a little way to glance out of the front window, and moved his hand slightly. Faith saw the wound on his head now. He had blood down his face. She thought for a moment that she was responsible, being the one to push him down so violently without giving him any warning, but then she reminded herself that her partner would probably be dead now if not for her act.
Davis skidded up after Sully, and climbed up on the hood a little way, calling in, "You okay?"
She managed to nod, and coughed again, taking in a deep breath, blowing her dislodged hair away from her face with little success.
"Paramedics and firemen are on the way!" Sully called to them over the racket of the rain, the crowd and the blaring sirens that drove up.
Kim and Bobby ran over, the woman going to Bosco's side, and Bobby clambering over the hood to see Faith.
"Bosco? Can you hear me?" Kim began, and touched a hand to his neck to feel for a pulse.
"I'm okay," was his quiet response. He moved a hand for feeble emphasis, and Kim nodded, touching a hand to the pole.
"Bosco, can you move at all?"
He shook his head in response, and then settled for saying, "Not a chance in hell."
Typical Bosco, Faith thought as Bobby landed a hand on her shoulder. Her attention immediately turned to him. She blinked once in recognition, and saw his eyes meeting hers.
"Where are you hurt?" he asked her, concern ebbing through his words.
"I'm not really." She shook her head, and then remembered the pounding. "Just a headache... and a scrape from when we hit this." She nodded to the pole that fixed them in place.
Bobby nodded in understanding, then peered over at the cops. "Sully, we gotta get this pole outta the way."
"Can you pull them out?" Sully called back, trying to keep control of the curious crowd.
"Not a chance!" Kim announced, shaking her head vehemently. "Bosco's got a concussion. We need a backboard in here, and this pole's gotta be cut out or something. I don't think we could pull them out if we wanted to anyway. They're pinned tight."
Faith fought to keep hold of consciousness, feeling it slip, and felt Bobby's hand fall in hers, even as her eyes landed on Bosco, seeing his still form. His eyes had closed, unconsciousness having taken a hold of him again.
"We're gonna get you out of here," Bobby insisted to her, soaked to the skin from the rain. "Firemen are on the way. We'll have you out any minute, okay?"
Before she could nod, she passed out.
Kim had managed to avoid the wet today. Bobby had given her a lift, after passing by her apartment on his way back from fetching coffee and bagels, which he had kindly shared with her. He had had enough bagels to feed a small army, and he and Kim probably wouldn't go hungry for quite a while.
But something was up today, Kim felt. Something didn't quite sit right. She had a feeling that she and Bobby would have quite a hectic day, especially after the week they had already had. There had been calls galore, enough for three times the amount of buses they had at their disposal, and the paramedics were being run into the ground further and further with each one.
And when they had arrived at the station, the last shift had looked exhausted, ready to drop where they stood, some practically crawling to their cars, some pulling themselves along on their slow and steady way to the EL.
"Looks like we missed some fun," Bobby said drolly as he and Kim poured themselves some more coffee from the percolator before starting their shift. They had changed into fresh gear, and Kim had tied her hair back. Their stethoscopes were at the ready, hanging around their necks in true organised fashion. They had checked the rig, seeing that everything was where it should be, and that nothing had been misplaced, lost, or taken. It was a little surprising.
They were wrapped up warm in long-sleeved shirts and jackets, hats atop their heads as they trudged out to the bus, jogging half the way because of the rain. Bobby had agreed kindly to drive, and Kim hadn't argued. He seemed a little too agreeable today for some reason, but Kim didn't know why. She didn't ask either.
As soon as they had started up the engine, the radio sounded, a voice saying, "Boy-5-5-3, we've got a hit and run on 75th. Two victims. Adam-5-5- 3 is en route."
"Boy-5-5-3, we're on our way," Kim replied, hitting the sirens.
"It's gonna be one of those days," Bobby said dryly as he steered away.
* * *
"I'm just not in the mood for traffic control today," Bosco complained, tugging on the steering wheel to take the next bend with controlled caution in the pouring rain. Actually, it had eased up a little, relenting slightly to ease their journey it seemed. But still, the wipers were working overtime, and Bosco had to concentrate more than normal to keep from colliding with other vehicles. Visibility was low.
"Well, if we get a call, we take it, Bos', nothing we can do about it."
Bosco looked over at Yokas, and raised an eyebrow, attention soon back on the road. "We can ignore it."
"Bos', it was a hit and run, for Christ's sakes! We can't just ignore it," Yokas informed him in no polite way, and shook her head. "I can't believe you wanna ignore a hit and run."
"I didn't say I wanted to," Bosco corrected with conviction, "I just said we could, if we didn't wanna take it. They don't know we're clear."
"Bos'," Yokas began slowly, "we were 98."
Bosco rolled his eyes, and let the conversation drop, allowing his mind to wander, but not so much that he lost his attention on the road ahead. He watched every car around him, ensuring the way was clear ahead of them. His thoughts settled rather predictably on the events of the last couple of days, and the deaths of four officers. He had worked with them a few times, even taking control of a shootout with them. He and Yokas had been the last ones on the scene, and they had been the last ones to fire their guns, taking down the final three shooters. The shooters had succeeded in killing one cop and five civilians on that day, all in cold blood. The cop had been on foot patrol, walking past their alley when they had fired in a panic, or so went Bosco's understanding.
He forced his mind to move along to something else, and he yawned discreetly. If Yokas knew he was tired, she would take over behind the wheel, and they would probably get nowhere fast... and Bosco hated dragging along at a snail's pace.
He checked each intersection in caution as he crossed over it, and let out a sigh. They were coming up on 79th, about to pass the museum where they were doing some kind of reconstructive work. Bosco drove up Columbus, waiting patiently for the radio to call them to a crime of any kind. He was bored.
Bosco only just heard the screeching of tires when Yokas screamed his name.
* * *
Faith felt the force of the other car slam into the side of the squad on the left, ramming their unit sidewards with unbelievable strength, pushing against the vehicle. Her eyes looked over in a panic to Bosco, who seemed fine. He was trying desperately to get control of the squad, without success.
She turned her head to look out of her window, and let out a cry. The side of the constructive scaffolding was coming up on them fast, and the car that had rammed them did not relent in its push. It only accelerated harder.
She heard more than felt them hit the scaffolding, the smashing of her window louder than an explosion. Seeing something push with lightning speed through the glass, she reached over instinctively, and pushed Bosco down and forward, feeling something scrape her arm painfully.
Faith remembered nothing else.
* * *
"5-5-Charlie, we have an MVA on Columbus at the museum, involving two vehicles. One of them is a 5-5 squad."
Davis performed an illegal U-turn, and slammed on the accelerator, seeing Sully turn on the lights and sirens. The adrenaline rushed through him again, and his eyes never left the front windshield as he drove.
He found himself desperate to know what had happened, and what was going on. What squad was it that had been involved? He clearly remembered hearing the involvement of a 5-5 squad. He found himself more than a little concerned.
They were about ten blocks away, and gaining speed. Cars turned out of their way as they tore down the street to the scene. Davis could hear the wailing of other sirens as they moved in as well, and he recognised them as ambulances.
Another siren far off filled the air, pouring in through the slightly opened window of the squad, and he picked it out, registering it as a fire truck.
This is not good, he thought quickly.
* * *
She coughed as she woke suddenly, trying to reach up an arm to her head, and finding she couldn't. It was pinned down, something pushed up against her chest, not allowing her to move. She could turn her head, even though it pounded, and the first thing she saw was the shattered glass on the driver's side of the squad, a gigantic metal pole having slammed its way completely through the car and out the other side, piercing the hood of the other vehicle.
Faith remembered the blow, and how she had never been so terrified or panicked in her life. Then she remembered something else. Her partner.
"Bos'?" she mumbled with all her strength, and turned her head to see him leaned forward against the steering wheel, his head turned in her direction, his eyes closed. He had tried to brace himself with his arms, which now rested on the column beside him. The pole was pressed on his back, locking him in place.
She recollected pushing him out of the path of the pole, and swallowed at how close a call it was. They both could have been killed.
Even in the pouring rain, she could make out that there was now no one in the other car. They had fled, leaving their doors open. There looked to be blood on the windshield, but at this distance she couldn't tell.
A low groan dragged her attention back to Bosco, who stirred, and tried to move. His eyes opened slowly, and he winced. One hand clenched and unclenched. He took as deep a breath as was possible, and coughed.
"Bos', are you okay?" she asked of him immediately, wanting to reach out and touch him, but remembering she couldn't.
He closed his eyes for a moment, and that was when Faith saw the blood that had run from his nose, and she was certain that he was bleeding from somewhere else. Possibly his head... she couldn't tell.
"I'm fine," he croaked, clearing his throat, "how about you?" He tried to move again, with the same result.
"I don't think I'm hurt. Just a headache."
Sirens filled the surrounding area, and through a slight haze, Faith could make out the light that pulled up outside and just over the street, where a small crowd was starting to form under umbrellas.
"Yokas! Bosco!" came the urgent cry of Sully as the man ran up, and looked in the windshield.
Bosco managed to turn his head a little way to glance out of the front window, and moved his hand slightly. Faith saw the wound on his head now. He had blood down his face. She thought for a moment that she was responsible, being the one to push him down so violently without giving him any warning, but then she reminded herself that her partner would probably be dead now if not for her act.
Davis skidded up after Sully, and climbed up on the hood a little way, calling in, "You okay?"
She managed to nod, and coughed again, taking in a deep breath, blowing her dislodged hair away from her face with little success.
"Paramedics and firemen are on the way!" Sully called to them over the racket of the rain, the crowd and the blaring sirens that drove up.
Kim and Bobby ran over, the woman going to Bosco's side, and Bobby clambering over the hood to see Faith.
"Bosco? Can you hear me?" Kim began, and touched a hand to his neck to feel for a pulse.
"I'm okay," was his quiet response. He moved a hand for feeble emphasis, and Kim nodded, touching a hand to the pole.
"Bosco, can you move at all?"
He shook his head in response, and then settled for saying, "Not a chance in hell."
Typical Bosco, Faith thought as Bobby landed a hand on her shoulder. Her attention immediately turned to him. She blinked once in recognition, and saw his eyes meeting hers.
"Where are you hurt?" he asked her, concern ebbing through his words.
"I'm not really." She shook her head, and then remembered the pounding. "Just a headache... and a scrape from when we hit this." She nodded to the pole that fixed them in place.
Bobby nodded in understanding, then peered over at the cops. "Sully, we gotta get this pole outta the way."
"Can you pull them out?" Sully called back, trying to keep control of the curious crowd.
"Not a chance!" Kim announced, shaking her head vehemently. "Bosco's got a concussion. We need a backboard in here, and this pole's gotta be cut out or something. I don't think we could pull them out if we wanted to anyway. They're pinned tight."
Faith fought to keep hold of consciousness, feeling it slip, and felt Bobby's hand fall in hers, even as her eyes landed on Bosco, seeing his still form. His eyes had closed, unconsciousness having taken a hold of him again.
"We're gonna get you out of here," Bobby insisted to her, soaked to the skin from the rain. "Firemen are on the way. We'll have you out any minute, okay?"
Before she could nod, she passed out.