"Godzilla and The Smog Monster"
Chapter Two
Joe Early did not hear his colleague, Kel Brackett, enter the treatment room. He and his medical team were too busy trying to keep their surprise patient alive.
"What a night!" Kel complained. "I've sewn so many stitches, I'm beginning to feel like Betsy Ross…" When his comments failed to elicit even a single glance of sympathy, the feeling-somewhat-slighted doctor stepped up beside his silent associate and studied the lit x-ray exam screen his friend was staring so intently up at. "Hmm…depressed skull fracture. You can bet this guy's gonna be needing an O.R."
"I've got one reserved," Early assured him, "and a surgical team is already standing by."
"What's the holdup?"
"We're still trying to get him stabilized," Joe replied and passed his doctor friend their critical patient's medical chart.
Kel noted some of the alarmingly low numbers that were recorded on it and winced. "I see-ee…" He handed back the chart and directed his concerned gaze to the young man, lying motionless on the treatment table. "Any idea how it—" the doctor's dark eyes widened in shock and recognition and his mouth suddenly stopped moving.
"The police just brought him in…claim they found him crawling around in an alley," Early informed the still too stunned to move or speak physician. "I was able to reach Paul Kurtz at a New Year's Eve party. He's on his way now. We hope to have him stabilized and prepped by the time Kurtz gets here."
Brackett gave his informant a grateful glance.
Paul Kurtz was the best neurosurgeon the hospital had on staff.
Hell, Kel considered Kurtz one of the top neurosurgeons in the entire country! The doctor recovered from the shock of the depressed skull fracture patient's identity and stepped up to the exam table. "What on earth happened to you, Johnny?" he quietly inquired of their unconscious young friend. Then he turned back to Joe, looking even more confused. "How did the police end up bringing him in?"
"He wasn't wearing his uniform or carrying any I.D. The officers thought they were dealing with 'an over-dosed junkie'."
"Are they still here?"
"I had someone ask them to stick around. I was hoping to talk to them…when I got the chance," Early added and stared solemnly down at his not quite stabilized patient.
"I'll talk to them for you," Brackett volunteered, taking both the hint and his leave.
Kel's eyes searched up and down the crowded hospital corridor, but failed to find any blue uniforms. The physician gasped in frustration and hurried off down the hall, in the direction of the ER's main entrance/exit.
Two police officers were seated in the waiting area, sipping coffee.
Kel exhaled a silent sigh of relief and promptly approached them. "Excuse me. I'm Dr. Brackett. Did you two just bring in a young man with a head injury?"
The two officers got stiffly to their feet.
"If you're referring to the John Doe junkie," Mike replied, "yeah. We brought 'im in. Why? Somethin' else wrong with him?"
The right corner of Kel's mouth twitched twice and he mentally began counting to ten. His seething anger diminished with each additional number, until he was finally able to address the arrogant officer somewhat civilly. "You-our…'junkie' happens to be a Los Angeles County Fire Department paramedic! He has several things wrong with him at the moment, but I can assure you that one of them is NOT a drug overdose!" He stopped shouting and started his silent counting again. The physician's fury finally sank back below the surface. "What happened to him?"
The two officers had been stunned into silence.
"We don't know," Nick was finally able to answer. "He was lying—face down—in an alley, between Harbor and Ames. Look, he wasn't wearing a uniform or carrying any I.D. when we found him. How were we supposed to know who he was?"
"Yeah!" Mike concurred. "He appeared to be drugged, and he was acting disorderly! Plus, his arms are all scarred up, just like a junkie's—"
"—Then," Kel suddenly interrupted, "he was conscious when you found him?"
The two men exchanged thoughtful glances.
"Sort of," Nick said.
"You mean, he was disoriented?"
Mike nodded. "Very!"
Kel managed an exasperated gasp. "So-o…you have no idea how he ended up in that alley…or how he got hurt."
The officers frowned and shook their heads.
Nick suddenly remembered something and brightened. "Mike, here, said he saw a Fire Department Rescue Squad parked not two blocks from where we found him!"
Brackett's gloomy countenance instantly brightened, as well. "You didn't happen to catch the number on the truck's door, did you?" The doctor was hopeful. He knew cops were trained to be observant.
Mike racked his brain for a few moments and then smiled. "I'm fairly certain it said 16."
The physician flashed both officers a grateful smile. "Thank you, gentlemen!" he declared and then hurried off down the corridor.
The two officers watched the doctor disappear. Then they turned back to one another, still looking and feeling somewhat dazed and amazed.
"A paramedic!" Mike exclaimed. "Can you beat that?" His right eyebrow suddenly arched in thought. "If he ain't a junkie…then…what did happen to him?"
"Right now, it appears the only one who can answer that," Nick turned to stare sadly off down the hall, "is him." The officer exhaled a weary sigh and then turned back to his equally exhausted looking companion. "What d'yah say we go back to the station and get outta these uniforms?" He draped an arm across his bachelor friend's slumped shoulders and began ushering him toward the exit. "Then we'll find a nice, quiet bar somewhere. So I kin buy my partner a drink."
Mike flashed his best buddy a big, broad grin. "Now you're talkin', Nicholas!"
Early heard someone enter the treatment room and glanced up. His friend had returned from his fact-finding mission. "Where you able to learn anything?"
"Nothing!" Kel regrettably replied. "Except that Johnny was conscious when they found him."
"That's a good sign."
Speaking of signs…
Brackett suddenly noticed the deep purple bruise over the paramedic's left ribcage…and the bright blue diamond stamped onto the back of his right hand. "It seems he was found just a few blocks from where Craig Brice and Greg Garnett were parked with Squad 16…"
Early arched an eyebrow. "Coincidence?"
"Could be-e…I'm having them come here for questioning."
Joe suddenly recalled something. "Speaking of coincidences…Johnny was wearing Garnett's assessment kit when they brought him in."
Kel's head snapped up. "You sure?"
Early picked a black leather paramedic's assessment kit up from a countertop and handed it to the questioner.
Kel flipped the kit over and saw that Greg Garnett's name had been carved into the back of it. "It was empty?"
Joe nodded.
Brackett's puzzled gaze settled back down on the black object in his hands. "Why would he be wearing this, if he wasn't working?"
Early had an even better question. "Why would he be wearing Garnett's, when he's got one of his own?"
"He wouldn't…unless he was working for Garnett and forgot his."
"Or didn't have time to get his," Joe joined in. "Which would also explain why he wasn't wearing his uniform."
The two men seemed pleased with the combined power of their deductive reasoning.
But then both doctors' countenances quickly grew glum again.
They still hadn't a clue as to what had happened.
TBC