GETTING SERIOUS
by ardavenport
- - - Part 3
The squad pulled into the rear parking lot of a modest industrial building. The engine was there, red light flashing. Next to a large pile of smoking trash that Stoker, Lopez and Kelly were breaking down. The asphalt was dark and wet, the fire hose lying on the ground nearby.
Captain Stanley and a rather portly, gray-haired man in a gray night-watchman's uniform stood over a man in dark clothes sitting on a patch of dry grass by the parking lot. But as Roy rolled to a stop, Stanley came jogging around the front of the squad to the passenger side. He made a crocked finger gesture. Puzzled, Johnny got out, leaving his fire helmet on the seat. Roy did the same, coming around the back end of the squad. They met there, three men in gray turnout coats in the slightly cool night air.
Stanley poked a thumb back toward the man that the watchman still stood over.
"We were just finishing up with the fire, when the night-watchman here caught this guy watching us from the bushes. He's got burns on his arms and he says he tried to put the fire out, but he won't give his name and the guy's got sawdust on his pants."
Gage and DeSoto exchanged looks.
"Do you think he's that fire bug, Cap?" Johnny kept his voice low. Over the past six months, there had been a few suspicious trash fires in the area, set by an amateur who used sawdust and rubbing alcohol to get them started.
"Yeah, and it looks like he got a taste of his own medicine this time. I've already called the sheriff's department but they're not here yet. I told him we could fix up his burns, but while you're doing that make sure that he doesn't leave until the deputies get here."
"Right, Cap."
They got out the drug box and biophone and walked around the squad to the injured man.
Captain Stanley took a position nearby, standing with the night-watchman between the man and the street. Roy and Johnny crouched on either side of him. He looked young, mid-twenties, sandy hair under a black knit cap. He kept nervously looking from one to the other of them, his arms clutched to his chest. Johnny could see the charring on the sleeves of his dark jacket and gray shirt.
Johnny grinned broadly at him. "Hey, how're you doing? My name's John Gage. My partner here is Roy DeSoto. What's your name?"
"Oh, I'm fine, really, I just, uh, was just passing by and I saw the fire and tried to put it out, but when I saw the fire engine coming I thought I'd get out of your way . . . "
Johnny pushed back the sleeve nearest to him while the man babbled. Roy did the same on his side. The man winced and his eyes nervously eyed the glowering fire Captain in heavy turnout coat and helmet, standing guard nearby.
His burns were real, red and blistering over ten percent of his forearms, wrists and hands. Not bad, but serious enough. Johnny opened the biophone and set up the antenna.
"First and second degree burns. Those must really smart. You're going to have to go to the hospital." Roy opened the drug box.
"Oh, no. They're really not that bad. They-they really don't hurt that much. I mean if you just put a bandage on it I'll be fine. You don't need to do anything special for me."
Johnny could see him breathing fast. And sweating. He had avoided giving them his name. And there was no way that those kinds of burns weren't hurting. A lot. He clicked on the biophone.
"Rampart, this is Squad Fifty-One, how do you read?"
Something grabbed his collar, pulling him off balance. Johnny had a brief flash of Roy's head coming at him, then the impact, and sound, of their skulls hitting each other. The grip on his collar let go and he fell to the side with Roy.
"Hey! Guys, stop him!"
"Ow." Rubbing his forehead, Johnny saw Captain Stanley running after the man with the burns, the night watchman waddling behind them. Flailing his arms, he stumbled to his feet and almost tripped over Roy as he was getting up. They ran after the others.
The young man was thin and nimble and panicked. He dodged the three firemen before tugging open a door of the building and diving inside. Three firemen rushed inside after him. Then Captain Stanley.
"What's in there?" Roy stopped by the puffing, portly watchman, just outside the open door.
"Just," pant, pant, "the shipping area," pant, pant, "and my office."
"Is there another exit?" Johnny saw huge boxes, racks and shadowy industrial-sized shelving in the overhead half-light inside.
Still gasping for breath, the watchman shook his head. "Just the doors to the other parts of the building and the garage door on the other side, and those are all locked." Pant, pant.
"Are you all right?" Roy put his hand on the older man's broad shoulder.
"Oh, yeah." He brushed off Roy's concern. Johnny saw a big grin under the large mustache on his face. "Go on and get him. I'll stay out here and wait for the cops."
"You're sure?" Roy took a step toward the door, but still hesitated.
"Yeah, yeah. Go on. Go get him."
Johnny followed Roy inside. Fewer than half the overhead lights were on among the metal rafters in the high ceiling above.
"Roy! John! Stay on the door!" They saw Captain Stanley emerge from the end of the long aisle in front of them. They heard footsteps, quiet sounds with no distinguishable location in the large room. Johnny caught a glimpse of a fire helmet moving among huge cardboard boxes behind metal shelves.
"We're not going to hurt you." Captain Stanley slowly paced toward them. He looked to his left, to his right, down the aisles of tall metal racks of boxes and round storage bins. "We just want to talk. And you still need to have those burns looked at."
Johnny heard a siren, quickly rising in volume outside. The watchman called out directions to the arriving police officers.
Stanley ducked out of sight to the left. Johnny saw the top of a knit cap pop up and vanish over a shelf on his right.
"Cap! Over There!"
Running to the tall shelves, Johnny skidded to a stop, seeing nothing but an empty aisle leading to a wall of boxes on the far wall. Did he see him in this aisle? Or was it the next one? Could he be hiding between the boxes on the lowest shelf? Walking down the aisle, he looking on both sides.
Things thumped above him. He looked up.
Something dark and large fell down at him.
Arms coming up to protect his face and ducking his head down, he pushed himself back against stacks of boxes to brace himself.
"Hey!"
"Get him!"
"Johnny!"
Widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda-widda.
"All right hold it right there!"
Running footsteps. The lights came up.
Canvas covered sleeves clutched tightly over his face, Johnny slowly lowered arms, un-hunched his shoulders and lifted his head.
Widda. Widda. Widda.
He saw white. He tilted his head back. Looked up into the gaping maw of a huge bin, tipped over on its side on the top shelf of the rack, now leaning across the aside where he stood. Small polystyrene bits still tumbled down out of it, a little flurry left over from the big avalanche, now a pile around him that went up past his knees.
Roy stood staring, just outside the edge of the white fluffy mess. By the door, three policemen and the night watchman surrounded the man in the knit cap. Three firemen joined them.
Chet Kelly joined Roy. He looked up at the bin and the rack, top resting on stacked boxes on the opposite side of the aisle over Johnny, still crouched and braced for disaster to fall on him.
"Wow, Roy. Do you think we'll need the Jaws to get him out of that?"
Roy grinned. "And the K12 at least."
"Oh very funny, guys." Johnny dropped his arms and walked forward.
Widda, widda, widda, widda, widda, widda, widda, widda, widda. Widda, widda, widda, widda, widda, widda. Widda, widda, widda, widda.
The ultra-light packing material didn't impede him at all, but it was everywhere. Each little white puff seemed to want to cling to him. Moving away from the pile, he tried brushing them off, but they just stuck to him somewhere else with staticky tenacity. Roy reached up and brushed some off the rim of his helmet and a few attached themselves to the sleeve of his turnout coat.
Chet backed away. "Oh, don't get that stuff on me."
"Roy, Johnny." Captain Stanley beckoned them over, Johnny trailing white styrene as he went. "Is this guy going to need an ambulance for those burns?" Two policemen stood on either side of the injured man, one cop on each arm. His sleeves were still pushed back and he now openly winced from the pain.
Roy nodded back. "They really should be taken care of at the hospital."
Mike was sent to radio for an ambulance and Roy ran out to get the drug box and biophone. Johnny sat the injured man down in a chair from the watchman's office. Flanked by two deputies, the injured man admitted that his name was Dennis Hartley, but he had already been read his rights by the cops and he wasn't saying much besides that.
Roy came back with the equipment and they called the hospital. And got an irate reply from Doctor Bracket about calling in earlier and then not answering. He tersely accepted their apology and demanded the victim's vital signs.
While they worked, Officers Howard and Baker berated Captain Stanley for trying to capture Hartley before they arrived.
"The guy's a fire bug, Vince!"
"He's an 'alleged' fire bug for now."
Chet Kelly jumped in to defend his captain. "Well, what are we supposed to do? Just let him get away? Guy's been setting trash fires for months."
Marco Lopez spoke up as well. "Yeah, we're just supposed to let him escape so he can do it again? What happens when he goes for something bigger next time?"
"And are all you firemen moolighting as judges and juries, too? What were you planning to do if he was armed?" Officer Baker got only sullen mumbles for a reply.
Johnny tensed. He had gone after Hartley as soon as he caught a glimpse of him. After the Captain had told him to stay by the door with Roy. What would have happened if the man had dropped something heavier on him than a bin of packing material? Less than a day after Captain Stanley had warned him about rushing in without thinking, he'd managed to do it again.
Gage's eyes flicked toward the group. Mike Stoker hadn't said anything, but he stalwartly stood at his captain's shoulder and all four firemen glared back at the cops who continued with their stern lecture about cops catching the criminals and firemen putting out the fires.
They heard a siren outside and saw the ambulance pulling up through a window. The man's arms were covered and he could walk on his own. Everyone filed out of the building into the dark parking lot, now illuminated by the flashing lights of the police cars and ambulance. A sheriff's deputy stayed close to Hartley.
"Try not to get that stuff in the squad." Roy pointed at the stray bits of packing styrene still clinging to him before climbing into the ambulance with Hartley and the deputy. Johnny closed the door and pounded on it twice when it was secure. The ambulance drove away.
Trying to brush off the white styrene, Gage turned toward the squad. Another hand brushed at the bits on his arm, then the back of his turnout coat and his pants leg.
Captain Stanley stepped back. "Boy, Gage, you've really got that stuff all over you."
"Yeah." They got most of it off. Stanley shook his hands, standing back to keep it from sticking to him.
Johnny swatted harder at the last few stubborn white bits left. "Cap, sorry I ran after that guy like that." Exasperated with himself, he dropped his arms at his sides. "You talked to me about doing things like that this morning and I completely forgot about it."
He looked back at Stanley, but the Captain only seemed surprised. Then he smiled. And put a hand on his shoulder and laughed. "Gage, I'll remind you about that later. Just as soon as I learn how to take my own advice."
Johnny stared back before he connected what Stanley had said about going in without thinking and the lecture that the cops had just delivered. "Oh. Yeah." He grinned back in sympathy. Stanley patted his back.
"Go on to the hospital. We're stuck here until the investigators get here. You and Roy will probably get back to the station before we do." Stanley moved off to join the others. Marco, Mike and Chet had gone back to finishing up breaking down the fire, but just enough to make sure it was out. Gage jogged back to the squad.
"Hey Gage!"
He turned back to Stanley, who waved his hand at him. Johnny looked down at himself - - he could still see a few bits of white styrene - - and then up.
"Try not to get that stuff in the squad."
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Disclaimer: All characters belong to Mark VII Productions, Inc., Universal Studios and whoever else owns the 1970's TV show Emergency!; I am just playing in their sandbox.