"CSP cruiser 3211 to dispatch." Deputy Michael Bradley said into his radio as he activated his lights and siren, and slowed his vehicle.
"Dispatch, go ahead 3211." A female voice responded.
"Arriving on scene of a one vehicle accident, west bound on Interstate 76 at the I-25 overpass. Vehicle is a black two-door SAAB sedan. State of Washington license plate 5-5-7 charlie, hotel, echo."
"Ah, copy that 3211, attempting to access electronic database of Washington state DMV, standby." It was nearly 1:30AM as deputy Bradley parked behind the mangled piece of black metal. The high beams of his silver and blue cruiser illuminating it. He stepped out into a light rain and turned on his flashlight. Deputy Bradley was 33, and average man of six foot and about 180 pounds. His light blue windbreaker whipped in the breeze as he approached the vehicle. The SAAB had slid off the four lanes of traffic and impacted against one of the concrete pillars supporting the overpass of I-25. The driver's side quarter panel and door were completely smashed in and pinned against the pillar, in fact the car had almost wrapped itself around mass of concrete. Bradley hurriedly moved to the passenger side and smashed the window with the end of his flashlight. He was an experienced patrolman but this was something he never got used to. "Dispatch 3211, officer requesting ambulance and fire units be dispatched to scene double quick. Tell the fire unit they better bring grinders and a cutting torch." Officer Bradley's veins filled with adrenaline as he shined his flashlight inside the car.
"Copy 3211, ah, response from Washington DMV. Vehicle registered to a Roland Conner, Caucasian male, 54, Seattle address, no wants or warrants at this time."
Bradley unhooked his radio from his shoulder and held it to his mouth as he ran the end of the flashlight around the rim of the window to clear any remaining chards of glass.
"Dispatch occupant is a Caucasian male, 18-23, brown hair, other vitals unknown at this time. Blunt force trauma to the head and chest, occupant was wearing his seatbelt at time of impact." Bradley reached across the interior to feel for a pulse.
"3211, skkkkt, Lakewood city Fire and EMS responding, ETA six minutes." Dispatch crackled into Bradley's radio as he continued trying to find a pulse. Adrenaline had taken over so much Bradley had noticed the smell in the air until now, the smell of gasoline. He knelt down to look beneath the car and again jabbed the talk button of his radio. "Dispatch add a hazardous materials unit to the list, this car is leaking gas, over."
"3211 dispatch, copy." There was a moment of silence before Bradley's radio came back. "3211 you are ordered to evacuate the scene at this time."
"Negative dispatch, this kid's in trouble over."
"3211 your radio is a safety hazard. You are ordered to clear the area immediately." The female voice rose perceptibly.
"Screw you, where the hell is my ambulance?" Bradley finally broke radio discipline.
"Still four minutes out 3211. I say again evacuate now."
"I'm not sure this kid has four minutes." Bradley still couldn't find a pulse. "Dispatch I'm standing in gasoline here, I'll clear the area, but I'm going to risk moving the victim.
"Negative, negative 3211, do not move the victim."
"Either I take him with me, or I stay put, those are your choices dispatch." Bradley growled angrily as he tried to force open the passenger door.
Feeling he had no other choice Bradley leaned in the window up to his waist and began cutting the seatbelt with his Swiss army knife. He placed his hands on the victim's shoulders and slowly worked him free of the steering column. Bradley laid the victim down on the passenger seat and worked his own way back outside the window. Then he grabbed the victim and as carefully as he could manage slid him out the passenger side window. Bradley held the kid in what looked from the outside like a full nelson in order to stabilize the head and drug him to the back seat of his patrol car. With the victim secure Bradley reversed his cruiser until he could no longer see the SAAB. Bradley returned to the back of his cruiser and covered the kid with a blanket from his trunk just as the Fire Department and Ambulance arrived.
Amanda Conner rolled over and picked up the phone. "Hello." She was groggy and not awake.
"This is the office of Colorado State Patrol, I'm trying to get in touch with a Roland Conner of Seattle Washington." A male voice said on the other end of the phone.
"He's right here, I'm his wife Amanda." By now she had turned the bedside lamp on and both parents were energized with fear.
"Ma'am does he have a black two-door SAAB sedan registered to him, license plate 557-c-h-e?" The lack of emotion in the voice was annoying Amanda.
"Yes," she snapped in reply.
"Ma'am that car was involved in an accident along Interstate 76 this morning or late last night. If you and Roland are in Seattle who would be driving the vehicle?"
Amanda went pale, "Our son Ben, he goes to college in Denver."
Trooper Bradley was trying to set up a perimeter and get things sealed off when his radio squawked at him again. "3211 dispatch, victim is likely one Benjamin Conner, age 18, 11054 Minter Court, Seattle Washington."
Bradley grabbed his radio from his shoulder, "identity confirmed dispatch, victim's drivers license matches that information." Bradley held Ben's license between his thumb and index finger.
"Alright roll guys." A fireman knocked the back of the ambulance after everyone had climbed inside and the doors were shut. The large orange and white GMC rapidly disappeared into the Colorado night, lights and siren blazing.
Roland massaged his wife's shoulders, "What's going on." Amanda was crying violently.
"It's Ben, he's been in an accident." Roland grabbed his wife and hugged her.
"How bad is he?" Roland began shaking while trying to comfort his wife. It was more than obvious Ben hadn't escaped injury.
"They don't know, or wouldn't say. All they told me was that rescue units were on the scene." Amanda feverishly wiped tears from her eyes.
The ambulance continued tearing through the night. "Hey his name is Ben, Ben Conner." The ambulance driver rapped on the window to get the attention of the two paramedics working on Ben. Ben himself lay naked on the backboard and gurney. The paramedics had cut off his clothes and covered him with blankets. A collar was wrapped around his neck, and air casts inflated around each of his broken legs.
"Ben if you can here me, squeeze my hand," one of medics grasped Ben's left hand fingers. He squeezed gently. "Good Ben"
"He's lost a lot of blood, pressure 82 over 50, pulse tacky at 160." The second medic deflated the pressure cuff and grabbed needles to set up an IV. The first grabbed a bag of potassium solution and hung it from the roof.
"As soon as I get this started run that fluid in as fast as it'll go," the second continued to work on starting the IV in Ben's hand. When that was complete the first medic grabbed the bag suspended from the ceiling and squeezed it to force the liquid through the IV. The second took out a pocket flashlight and lifted each of Ben's eyelids. "Pupils are equal, but sluggish." The first continued squeezing the bag until all the fluid was out.
The phone exploded again at the Conner's house. It was barely allowed to ring once before Roland picked it up, "Yes"
"Roland Conner."
"Yes."
"My name is trooper Michael Bradley. I'm the one that discovered your car." Bradley had been patched through to the Conners via an emergency assistance phone near the crash.
"How is he?" Roland gulped and swallowed hard as he asked.
"Touch and go sir, the ambulance took him about ten minutes ago. Bound for University Hospital in Denver." Amanda watched her husband deflate like a balloon and collapse back onto the bed.
"What are his injuries," Roland continued.
"Both his legs are broke and he's unconscious that's all I could tell from looking at him." Bradley had been trained to give news like this, but the training never helped in the real world.
"Thank you officer." Roland set the phone down and addressed Amanda who was busy dragging suitcases up from the basement. "The officer that found Ben said both his legs are broke and he's unconscious." Roland's head fell into his hands.
Bradley left the phone and returned to the accident scene. By now backup had arrived and two of the four westbound lanes were closed. Cordoned off by orange cones and blocked by parked police vehicles. There was now a small army of officers present, some directed what little traffic there was, others helped tape off a perimeter for the HAZMAT unit. One of the HAZMAT technicians approached Bradley as he returned. "I was told you are the officer that has command over this fine mess." Bradley nodded. "Sir I found this in the back seat of the SAAB. Might help getting people contacted." Bradley accepted Ben's press pass from the football game. The pass was dated two weeks ago.
The paramedics delivered Ben to Colorado University Hospital Denver just before two AM. "Alright people on my count were gonna move him slow. 1-2-3 move him." Ben was shifted from the gurney to the examination table at University Hospital trauma room. "Portable neck and chest, c-spine, type and cross, stick a glucose and a crit, and once we get him stable a non contrast head CT." Doctor Scott Clair finished ordering the battery of tests he wanted for his patient. One nurse went over to phone and began scheduling the tests while others continued to hook Ben up to the various monitors stationed throughout the room. "Tube him, and let's start a central line. Someone call surgery and get a consult down here on the double. Move people move."
Michael Bradley was the epitome of everything good about a public servant. He was more than willing to risk his life to help people he didn't even know. Most officers might have ignored the press pass. After all Ben was properly identified and his parents contacted. But Bradley never did just the bare minimum; he started back toward the emergency phone.
Amanda stomped mercilessly around the Conner's bedroom. "God fking damn," she slammed the receiver back into the cradle. "We can't get a flight out until mid-morning tomorrow. What if we drive?"
Even in the midst of this tragedy Roland managed to reach a new level of stunned. Until this moment he'd never heard Amanda swear before. Let alone use the f-word. "It's a solid two day drive from here to Denver. The flight will get us there quicker. Okay now honey, one of us has to call Sam." Roland returned their thoughts to the moment.
"Oh god." Amanda cast her head down and continued packing clothes.
Trooper Bradley was nearly out of breath as he reached the emergency phone a second time. "Hello," another tired, just awoken voice answered Michael Bradley's phone call.
"Henry Phillips?"
"Yes, who's this?
"Do you know a Benjamin Conner sir?"
"Ben, yes I know him, I'm his boss. What's happened to him?" Henry was awake instantly and his reporter instincts kicked in.
"I'm sorry to tell you sir but he's being taken to University Hospital in Denver after an auto accident. He should be there by now."
"Yes, thank you officer Bradley." Henry hung up and got dressed.
By now a surgeon had come from the upper floors of the hospital and was helping out with Ben's trauma. So far they were unable to stabilize Ben. "Line is in, breathing tube is in, Christ why is his pressure still so low. Hang another unit." The surgeon barked. 90 over 65 was all nearly four minutes of work had earned the doctors, and Ben's heart rate had risen to 190.
"He's losing blood some place but I can't find where. We've got to get his system slowed down, he can't take much more than about another minute of this." Doctor Clair said as he continued examining Ben.
"His crit is terrible because of the amount of blood loss, we're about to add kidney shutdown to the list of problems here." The surgeon spoke as he quickly skimmed the first lab reports. At just that moment the snaking lines of the EKG went flat and a loud, high-pitched alarm started sounding.
"Paddles, paddles." Doctor Clair screamed for a defibrillator as the surgeon climbed on top of the examination table and straddled Ben. The surgeon's hands began pounding on Ben's chest.
Henry continued the domino effect. His instincts told him that there was more to Ben and Monica than either let on. He had no solid reason, yet somehow he was sure Monica would want to know about Ben. He looked up Miss Young's phone number and dialed. "Monica, sorry to wake you."
"Hen, Henry, god what time is it." Monica shook her head as she stumbled back to bed after retrieving her cordless.
"Monica, Ben Conner had a car accident early this morning."
She was silent for a long time. "Is he alright," Monica like all the others awoke instantly at the news.
"No he isn't. They took him by ambulance to University Hospital."
There was an even longer silence than before. Tears welled in Monica's eyes and she started to sniffle. "Henry, are you going to see him by chance," she choked out?
"Yes."
"Could you possibly give me a ride over? My bug it's in the shop again." The news was so traumatic that Monica didn't bother trying to contain her emotions. Even though they might reveal something of her past with Ben.
"Of course, I'll pick you up in ten minutes." Henry hung up the phone and Monica frantically got dressed.
Henry drove his favorite plaything, a cherry red corvette. It appeared in front of Monica's campus apartment right on schedule. "Does this thing move," she asked tersely as she got in? Her nerves getting the better of her.
"Oh yeah." Henry immediately noticed she'd brought a whole box of tissues with her as he slammed the car in gear and screeched toward the hospital. "A damn fine sports car is the one luxury I will not be without. Like I told Ben once: I'm old, I'm not dead." He regretted immediately mentioning Ben and death in the same sentence. He noticed Monica started shaking at the comment. 'Ben is more to her than just a former student.' "Monica I'm going to ask you something, it's none of my business, but what's the real deal with you two?"
"I' I was his English teacher." Monica responded tentatively.
"That's what he told me. You're a better liar then he is mind you, but you still not good enough to get one past an old reporter." Henry continued to observe Monica in the seat next to him. She could barely control her hand enough to blot her eyes.
Monica didn't speak for what seemed an eternity. She played with her hair, her watch, her bracelets, anything to avoid eye contact with Henry. Normally she liked riding around and driving, but something about this moment made her feel trapped. Maybe it was the fact that she couldn't fool the grandfather. "Okay Henry, what I'm about to trust you with could ruin me." Monica was still choked up and emotional.
Henry flashed her a friendly glance, "I've been retired for years lady. You can tell me anything, I won't judge you."
Strangely enough Monica believed him. "God where do I start. I was Ben's English teacher that much is true. I was also his girlfriend." She paused searching Henry for a reaction. His face didn't change at all. "I was his first, and he was my best. I loved him, I still love him." Monica kept sobbing and turned away from Henry.
Henry took a hand off the wheel and wiped a tear for Monica. "Since he showed up Denver looking for you, I'm going to assume the feelings were mutual."
"They were." Monica managed a small smile through her tears and nodded her head. Allowing pleasant memories of Ben to wash over her.
"So what happened?" Henry's voice was comforting.
"I felt so strongly about Ben that I forgot he was sixteen. Hell my feelings were so strong they made me act sixteen, even though I was twenty-three at the time. He broke up with me because of all the sneaking around we had to do. Also because the relationship got too intense for him. He ended up flaunting a new girlfriend in my face, and I slept with his brother out of revenge." Monica again searched Henry for a reaction: again there was none. Not the slightest hint of contempt or blame.
"No Monica, I meant what happened since he came here looking for you?" Monica immediately started sobbing uncontrollably again. Henry didn't know it but he'd just found the biggest of all her frayed nerves.
"This is all my fault." Monica choked out as she wept in her hands.
"How could that possibly be?"
"I slipped, we slipped. When you sent me to that stupid game, we had some time alone together and I let him kiss me. So I've been avoiding him the last couple of weeks. Today though he found me and we had a fight." Monica flashed Henry a look of pure hatred for forcing her to go to Lincoln.
"I don't understand, if he wants to be with you again then what's the problem? You're both legal now." Henry turned off the interstate and toward the hospital.
"It's not that simple, our past is overwhelming. You can't imagine the depth of pain we've caused one another. We were and are a mistake." Monica said it as forcefully as her emotions would let her.
Henry parked the corvette by the emergency entrance as he turned and looked at Monica. He placed his hand under her chin and lifted it until their eyes met. "Monica, I'm sixty-eight years old and as much of kid now as ever, so trust me when I say this. Any man, absolutely any man, would be the luckiest son of a bitch in the world to make a mistake like you."
"Thank you." Monica wiped away tears as she exited the corvette and ran toward double doors of the emergency department.
Monica charged through the doors like a rabid rhino. It was most defiantly a hospital. White tile floor and walls painted in annoying cheerful pastels that belied the suffering going on in such places. There was a large and unfriendly looking nurse sitting at the admit desk. "Ben Conner, I'm here to see Ben Conner, where is he?"
"Chairs, everybody waits in chairs." The chubby nurse shot a finger toward a waiting room across the hall from the admit desk.
Monica lunged across the desk, grabbed the nurse by the shoulders and pulled her to a standing position. She was least twice Monica's size. "Listen you fossil. I don't know how long you've had this job, and I don't know how many centuries you've walked this earth. But in all that time you have never met a raving bitch like me. Now where is Ben Conner?"
The large nurse instantly turned to jelly as she looked into Monica's eyes, blazing with fear and rage. "He's still in the trauma room. Ma'am we can't allow you back there. Please take a seat in the waiting room and I'll see if I can get someone to speak with you. Be assured that everything that can be done for him is being done. All the kings horses and all the kings men are in there."
Monica threw the nurse back down into her chair and walked over to the waiting room. Henry came and sat down next to her. Not long after that doctor Clair came into view and had a brief conversation with the nurse. The nurse pointed at Henry and Monica. Doctor Clair lowered his head and pushed his hands into the pockets of his white lab coat. Monica and Henry both stood as he approached them. Tears streamed down Monica's cheeks and she shook her head violently from side to side. Doctor Clair would not make eye contact with her. Out of instinct she lashed out and grabbed him much the same way she had the nurse. The desperation in her voice seemed to reach far beyond her twenty-six years, "Don't you dare tell me Ben is dead."