The Boot

Chapter Eight

By GCS

DISCLAIMER: "Emergency!" and its characters © Mark VII Productions, Inc. and Universal Studios. All rights reserved. No infringement of any copyrights or trademarks is intended or should be inferred. This is a work of fiction. This story is only written for entertainment. No financial gain is being realized from it. The story, itself, is the property of the author.

Johnny jogged over and Captain Jones pointed to the broken out window. "I need someone to crawl in there and check on the occupants of that vehicle. You're the smallest man I have. Do you think you can manage it?"

"What do I need to do once I get in there?" Johnny asked with wide eyes.

"Well first we need to see if whoever is in there is alive. You do know how to check for a pulse, basic first aid, right?"

"Yes sir, um we learned that at the academy." He nervously bounced from one foot to the other.

"Okay then let's go." Cap waved to the window.

Johnny followed his Captain over to the portal. The rain still pelted them mercilessly. He dropped to his knees in the water that puddled around the wrecked vehicles. The cold water seeped in against his shins as cold fear gripped his heart. 'Please be alive.' He brushed away the shards of glass that still clung to the window frame with his gloved hand, then dropped to his belly and began inching his way inside the small dark space.

Suddenly he stopped and twisted his body, reaching his hand out, "I need a flashlight." He felt someone place the light in his hand, and he wrapped his fingers around it, twisted again, and scrambled deeper into the metal cave. He felt something soft before he flicked on the light.

It was quiet, too quiet. He could hear his own breathing and the pitter-patter of the continuing rain, and the creaking of tearing metal as his cremates worked to free the other drivers. He could see in his mind's eye the sparks flying from the blade of the K-12 as it tore into the car above. However, inside the dark space, the sound he listened for didn't seem to be there. The click of the flashlight switch seemed to echo in the quiet. The light shook causing the beam to vibrate along with his trembling hand. The quivering beam landed across the face, her face and her hauntingly empty eyes stared at him.

Johnny dropped his head to his arm and squeezed his eyes shut. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and quell the uneasy feeling in his gut. Slowly he raised his face, reached over and closed the staring eyes. He brought his hand to his face and bit the end of the glove to pull it from his hand, reached out and felt her neck for the pulse he knew he wouldn't find.

Inching his way backwards, he felt the glass poke through the wet fabric of his uniform pants and slice into his knee. He didn't slow his retreat. He needed to get out of there.

Captain Jones watched Johnny scramble backwards from the window. He stopped and sat up still on his knees. "Gage?" He watched the young man close his eyes and nod slowly. Then he dropped the flashlight, shot up to his feet and stumbled over to the shoulder of the road where he again dropped to his knees and grabbed his middle. "Scotty!" Captain Jones called to the engineer and pointed in Johnny's direction. Scotty waved his understanding and grabbed some water from the engine. Captain Jones raised the HT to his mouth, sighed, depressed the button, "HT 10 to LA, we have at least one Code F. We need the Coroner dispatched to this location."

"Here you go kid." Scotty handed Johnny some water. Johnny turned and sat in the wet grass. Didn't matter that it was wet, he was soaked through and through again. "You're bleeding." Scotty pointed to his knee. "Better get that checked out, might have some glass in it." Johnny nodded and rinsed his mouth. He couldn't say anything past the giant lump in his throat. Every time he closed his eyes, all he could see were her eyes staring back at him. He shuddered. "Come on." Scotty reached under his arm and helped him up. "I think you need a break from the rain." He led Johnny over to the engine and guided him on-board.

Jim felt the tug on his turnout coat before he heard his brother's remark. "Will you look at that? Gage must have screwed up again." Cody pointed to Johnny being helped up onto the engine.

"Cody, you don't know what you're talking about. Didn't you just hear Cap call in the Code F? Gage probably just saw his first corpse. Can't you give the guy a break? What did he ever do to you anyway? Besides pull your butt out of the water."

"Oh great! Now my own brother has sided with that red skin." Cody stared at his brother in disbelief.

"He's a good fireman Cody. You need to concentrate on being one yourself and leave Gage alone." Jim chastised his brother. "Now get over there and see what Cap needs you to do next."

Cody turned abruptly and stalked away from Jim.

Jeff walked over to where Johnny had left his helmet, bent down and picked it up, glancing at the darkened window and wondering what horror Johnny had faced inside. He'd watched Johnny get sick when he came out. In all the weeks of training, he'd never seen Johnny lose his cool, not even when Cody pulled another of his stunts. Johnny had always kept it together, held his temper. He walked slowly over to the engine to give Johnny his protective helmet. "Here Johnny." He looked up at Johnny with his head resting against the cool glass of the window. His gaze directed at the pile up, at the broken out window. His hands rested in his lap. His pant leg was torn and the fabric reddened by the blood that seeped from the cut beneath. Scotty handed Jeff a yellow blanket. "HHere kid can you wrap that over his shoulders?"

"Is he all right?" Jeff asked as he ripped the plastic from the blanket.

"He will be. Just needs a minute. First time is always rough." Scotty smiled up at Johnny. "Must have been rough in there huh Boot?"

Johnny's eyes slowly closed as Jeff climbed up and slid the blanket over his shoulders. Johnny whispered in a soft raspy voice, "Not the first time."

Scotty stopped in his tracks and turned back to look at Johnny. "What's that Boot?" He wanted to be sure he'd heard correctly. All he got was an almost imperceptible nod. He met Jeff's gaze and they knew this was not the first time Johnny had faced death.

"Okay Johnny, I have to get back out there." Jeff patted his shoulder. "See ya back at the station." He felt the shivering as he squeezed Johnny's shoulder and then Johnny coughed.

Scotty walked over beside Captain Jones. "How's he doing?" Cap glanced at the engine.

"I think he's sicker than he's admitting, at least he is now." Scotty scratched his temple. He's got a cut on his knee, and he's still coughing."

"Okay, we'll get him checked out. Thanks Scotty."

"Sure Cap, no problem."

"Let's get this stuff packed up and get out of this rain before we all get sick." Cap smiled at his friend. Before Tony left in the squad to follow the ambulance with the last victim to Rampart, Cap called him over. "Tony I need you check on Gage. He seems to have cut his knee while crawling out after finding the Code F."

Tony looked over at the engine and saw Johnny leaning against the window. "Yes sir."

Johnny stared out the window for what seemed like an eternity. His eyes blinking slower and slower until they slid shut. His mind finally let go of the woman's hollow stare, and he drifted to sleep. Hearing someone calling his name startled him awake.

"Johnny, Cap wants me to look at your knee." Tony shook him a little to wake him up.

"Okay." He yawned. He felt tired and stiff. He pulled the blanket off his shoulders, wadded it up and dropped it to the floor beside his seat.

Tony pulled back the torn fabric and whistled. "Well you really did a number on it, but I think we can patch it up without having to get stitches. I'll just put some antibiotic cream on it and bandage it up for you."

Johnny looked back out the window and noticed that the cars had all been moved. The last tow truck was pulling away.

"There you go." Tony stood and patted him on the shoulder. "Well I have to get over to Rampart to pick up Joe. You okay now?"

Johnny nodded and tried unsuccessfully to hold back another yawn.

"Well Tony, will he live?" Scotty poked his head in and looked up at Johnny.

"Shut up and drive this thing Scotty! I'm hungry." Bill called as he climbed aboard. "Hey Gage, you don't have to put up with him."

Johnny gave a small smile and leaned back against his seat. "I'm okay. Let's go."

"Um excuse me, but I think that's my line." Captain Jones also climbed aboard. "So Engineer Scott, do what the man said. Let's go." He waved out the front windshield.

Tony stepped down from the engine and waved as he walked over to the squad and returned the first aid kit to the compartment.

Scotty took one last look at Johnny, "Yes sir, Captain Sir." He gave a mock salute that brought a genuine smile to Johnny's face.

The crew from Station 10 didn't get very far down the road before they were called out again to a structure fire a short distance from their present location. It was a freestanding garage with an upstairs apartment. Captain Jones quickly directed his crews to work at getting it under control. His squad was still unavailable, but someone needed to check the apartment to be sure no one was up there. "Bill, you and Gage do a quick sweep of the apartment. Make it fast. There could be a car or gas cans in the garage."

Bill and Johnny put on their SCBA and ran for the stairs that led up the outside of the two-story structure. Flames shot out of the window beside the stairs and licked at their turnouts as they ran by. Smoke billowed out of the cracks around the overhead door.

The ladder truck raised the lengths of white ladder up above the roof and men pulled hoses up directing the stream of water across the roof offering what protection they could to the nearby house, while crews from the other engines took on the ground attack from all sides.

Once they reached the top of the stairs Bill pulled out his pry tool, felt the door for heat, checked the doorknob to see if it was locked and since it was, wedged the tool in between the door and the door facing prying open the lock. He stepped back and watched as Johnny finished opening the door with a shoulder shove. Inside the smoke was so thick that they had to feel their way around the small apartment. Suddenly they heard the HT come to life and Captain Jones ordering them out. The tenant had been located. The two men ran for the door and bounded down the steps just in time. They could hear the tires on the car inside the garage bursting. Everyone knew the gas tank would be next if they didn't get it out right away.

They never did make it back to the station in time for lunch. After getting the garage fire out, they immediately went on another run. It was 2:30 before they got a break. Since everyone had been out on calls all morning, they decided that hot dogs would be the quickest meal they could make. Chips and sodas were spread out on the table along with buns and condiments. Some men ate while others showered. Then the second group ate while the others got cleaned up. Luckily, they were able to finish their meal before being toned out to another accident on the 405. The rain didn't let up all day.

By nightfall, everyone at the station was more than ready to climb wearily into their bunks. Hamburgers had been the meal for dinner, and as soon as everyone finished eating and the dishes cleaned, Captain Jones ordered lights out. As predicted that morning, it had been a very long and busy rainy day. The tones kept them running through the night. A trash fire and an electrical short that sparked a fire at a factory during the night shift kept them up most of the night. The next morning the tones woke them from a deep slumber. The closer it came to shift change the more on edge everyone became. They were really hoping they wouldn't get a call right before they turned the station over to the next shift. Nine times out of ten when that happened, they could count on putting in at least one hour of overtime, but today luck was on their side.

It was still misting rain when their shift ended. Johnny pulled on his jean jacket and turned the collar up to try and keep some of the dampness out. He hoped to get home before there was another downpour.

He stopped in his tracks as he walked out the back door to the station and saw the flat tire on his bike. His mouth fell open. Walking deliberately across the lot, he scanned the tire as he approached. A nail, buried deep in the top of the tire caught his eye. He ran a finger over the thin offending rod that protruded from the airless tire. He ran his hand through his hair, turned and walked away, not looking at anyone, not acknowledging the calls Scotty made for him to wait. He rounded the building and quickened his pace. He knew in his gut that he had not picked up a nail on the way to work the day before. This was deliberate, and he bet he could guess who had done it.

The bus stop was just a couple of blocks down the street and around the corner.

He walked past the houses that lined the streets like sands in an anthill side by side, so close a guy could see the headlines on his neighbor's newspaper as he read while sitting at his kitchen table drinking coffee and checking the scores from last nights games.

He reached the bus stop just in time. The bus pulled to the curb splashing water over his already wet tennis shoes. He quickly boarded, stopping at the top step he dug into his pockets trying to find enough money to deposit into the slot to get him close to his apartment. He would still have to walk a few blocks, but it would get him there and at least he was out of the rain for now.

A group of housekeepers sat in a huddle near the back of the bus laughing and sharing stories about the people they work for. A seedy looking man with dirty clothes and nappy unwashed hair sat beside the emergency exit nervously tapping his foot as though he expected something bad to happen. His eyes darted from person to person trying not to miss anything; his hands fidgeted constantly. A young woman and her two small kids huddled together in the seat directly behind the driver. He sighed and slid down in the hard plastic seat across from them and stared out the dirty window. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of diesel fuel mixed with the dank odor of the extremely large bus driver. Maybe he would just get off at the next stop and walk home. At least then, he could breathe.

His attention drifted to the noises coming from the front of the bus. The burly man behind the large steering wheel maneuvered the bus back into the street and weaved his way through the morning traffic toward the next stop. He grunted and hissed with every movement of the wheel. No wonder he smelled so bad, driving that bus was probably quite a workout for the obese man.

One of the kids across the isle fell off the slick seat and landed hard on his rump in the aisle. Johnny reached down and helped him back up onto the seat. The mother smiled her thanks, and he turned back to the passing scenery. His stomach felt queasy and his head ached. He planned to get a hot shower, climb straight into his bed and stay there for the next two days until he had to be back on duty. He didn't have any way to get around anyway. The tire would have to wait until payday to be repaired. He'd spent the last of his savings on the meager groceries he bought the day he graduated from the academy, and on the full tank of gas for the bike. Well it wouldn't be the first time he'd had to walk.