The screech of tires and the dull whump-thwack-crunch of the collision broke Chuck from his daydream in just enough time to hit his breaks. Looking around, the traffic that was moving in the same direction as him was at a complete stand still; no one was able to move. There was still some traffic inching by in one lane in the opposite direction and the cross traffic was still heeding the red light. He quickly dialed 9-1-1 as he hit the button for his flashers and quickly got out of the car to assess the scene as he called in the accident. Due to the years he spent helping his sister study for her premed, as well as the time he spent as a lifeguard, and never letting his enhanced first aid training lapse, he automatically began to perform a quick visual triage of the people in the two involved vehicles all the while speaking to the operator.
"9-1-1, what is your emergency?" The operator's voice came over the line a fraction of a second after Chuck had pressed the call button on his phone.
"Hi, my name is Chuck Bartowski and I am at the corner of Hollywood and Verdugo, there was a black F250 and a silver Miata involved in an accident. The truck ran the light and hit the car." Chuck reported, "I am currently approaching the vehicles to see if anyone needs assistance."
"Mr. Bartowski, my name his Rose, are you safe?" The operator inquired.
"Nice to meet you Rose, despite the circumstances. I am safe and am approaching the accident on the side where traffic is unable to pass," He explained as he approached the truck. He could see the stripe of silver along the front bumper and fender where the impact had occurred, the passenger door looked accessible, but due to the airbags, he was unable to see the occupants. "Hello in there, is everyone alright?"
"Ugh, it's just me in here, and I'm fine," Came a man's voice, "That damn car better not have damaged my truck, I just bought this thing."
"I am going to open the passenger door," Chuck explained as he pulled on the handle and looked inside. The man looked to be about his age, semi-muscular as if he had been a football player in high school, but had let himself go a bit since then. He had a bump on his forehead, and a bloody nose and bruised face from the impact of his face moving forward as the air bag's rapid inflation initiated. From what Chuck could see, that was the worst of the man's injuries. "Can you move?"
"Yeah, I can move," The man demonstrated by moving his arms and legs a bit partly to test their mobility and partly to prove that they could move.
"My name's Chuck, what's yours?" Chuck inquired as he heard and acknowledged the operator's stating that she was going to dispatch EMTs and police.
"Joe," The man spoke low.
"Nice to meet you, Joe," Chuck nodded, "Are you able to get out of the truck and sit on the sidewalk until the first responders can get here and check you out?"
"Yeah, I guess," Joe shrugged and slowly opened his door, stumbling out and over to the curb where he took a seat, plopping himself down heavily. Chuck watched him, not sure if the stumbling was due to a concussion or some kind of impairment. He decided he would let the EMTs figure it out when they arrived and headed toward the Miata. As he approached, he updated the operator, "So the driver of the truck said his name is Joe, as you could hear, I didn't ask for his last name. His injuries seem to be exclusively from the impact of the airbag to his face, but he was stumbling when he got out of the truck, but I don't know if it is due to the accident or another reason. I'm going to check on the driver of the car."
"Thank you Mr. Bartowski. The EMT's should be there soon, the fire station is right up the street."
"I think I can hear the sirens," He commented as he drew closer to the Miata, he realized the vehicle seemed familiar to him. The driver's side window was spiderwebbed and he could see medium length dirty blond hair leaned up against the window. As he got closer, he smelled coffee, and then saw the car seat in the rear bench seat. Dread began to coil itself low in his stomach. He knocked lightly on the window, which he noticed had some blood seeping into the cracks of the window, "Hello, can you hear me?"
A low groan could be heard on the other side of the glass, but no words were said. Chuck continued around to the front of the vehicle to see if he could see through the windshield which was also showing some stress fractures due to the driver door, fender, and windshield frame being bashed in. As he looked in, he gasped, "Oh my God. Um, Rose, I know the driver of he Miata, she works at Westside Medical…"
The EMTs had arrived, closely followed by the fire department's truck, and as one of them evaluated Joe, the other joined the firemen in assessing the car for the best way to access the driver in the car. The police showed up soon after, and once Chuck had confirmed that the first responders had arrived and thanked Rose for her assistance, he turned to the police and told them what happened. All the while, he played with the phone in his hand as he continued to watch the extraction of the Miata's driver from the vehicle. He watched as the car's driver was placed onto a gurney and loaded into the ambulance. He also noticed that Joe had been cleared and, after speaking with one of the policemen and submitting to a field sobriety test, had been placed in the back seat of the sergeant's SUV.
"Um, excuse me," Chuck stopped one of the paramedics, a young woman with auburn hair pulled up in a ponytail that stuck out of the back of her baseball cap. "What hospital are you taking her to?"
"Westside," The paramedic informed him, "Are you family?"
"Kind of," Chuck gave her a small smile, and handed her the driver's information which he'd quickly written down on a receipt he'd found in his car after the police had finished with him.
"Thank you," The woman accepted the piece of paper and, once her partner had closed the doors and nodded that they were ready to go, turned to get into the vehicle for the short drive to the hospital.
Chuck watched as the ambulance pulled away and walked back to his car. The traffic in his lane had already been directed to a detour, leaving his car as the sole vehicle aside from the emergency vehicles and the tow trucks that had shown up to take the involved vehicles once the investigation had been wrapped up. Disengaging his flashers, he turned his car on again and backed up to turn around, but not before activating the hands-free calling in his car. "Hey Elle, are you or Awesome on ER rotation?"
"I was called in not too long after I left your condo. I really can't talk because we just got notified of an incoming," Ellie responded.
"Elle, you know the person coming in, just don't freak out." Chuck informed her, "I'll be there in a little bit."
"Chuck, you're scaring me." Ellie sighed, "Are Sarah and Molly okay, is Clara?"
"Yeah, they're all fine, at least for now," Chuck explained, "I have to go, I'll see you when I get there."
"Okay, little brother," Ellie sounded a little perplexed but had to go anyhow as the ambulance had just arrived and she had to meet the EMT's for the pass-off.
Chuck disconnected the call and hit another speed dial number, the phone rang once before the cheerful voice answered, "Sarah, get Molly and put her in her car seat." He instructed, not giving her time to question his directions, "I'm on my way there, be in the passenger seat with the engine running when I get there. There's been an accident."
