"Godzilla and The Smog Monster"

Chapter Eight

John hurried down the hallway, past a lo-ong line of flustered females all waiting to get into the Ladies' Lounge.

Little Red Riding Hood was the first in line and the girl gave him another strange, suspicious stare.

"I, uh, forgot my plunger," he explained and attempted to gain access to the Lounge.

"Sorry, but you can't come in yet!" he heard Craig say. "The toilets are backed up and we're still mopping!"

Gage couldn't help but grin. "It's me-e!"

"Ga-age!" Craig exclaimed, relief evident in his voice.

The door opened and John ducked inside.

"What took you so long?"

"Never mind that. This is definitely a setup. Besides Mrs. Dracula and her cowboy friend, there's—at least—one other person in on it. Did you call for the back-up?"

Craig appeared duly contrite and gave his head a reluctant shake.

Gage exhaled a groan of disappointment. "They'll get away for sure, no-ow. They can't understand why it's taking us so long to leave. They're talking about splitting."

"I decided to give you another minute," his temporary partner explained. "But I was just about to call when you arrived." He turned to Karen. "Wasn't I…"

Karen nodded. "He really was! Gosh this is so exciting!"

John took the HT from Craig and thumbed its call button. "LA, Squad 16. Request police assistance at our location…" He gave his fellow paramedic a glum glance. "Wish there was a way we could keep them here until the back-up arrives…"

"There may be a way…" Brice thoughtfully determined. Then he turned to Karen and smiled—rather deviously.

"10-4, LA." John released the call button and lowered their HT. "Well, I told them to respond Code 3, and to look for a lady vampire and a masked cowboy and—" he paused, looking miserable, "—I'll bet the cops are thinkin' we can't possibly be sober…" He started reaching for his turnout coat and helmet.

His temporary partner stopped him. "Go back undercover and spread it around that the paramedics will be bringing their victim out, shortly."

John stared at Craig in confusion for a couple of seconds and then turned to Karen. "Yeah…Yea-eah! That just might work!" He held out his blue diamond stamped hand. "Give me the keys…"

"Why?"

"Our victim is gonna need a backboard."

Brice dug the keys out and dropped them into his partner's open palm. "You're not considering going back out there…" he hopefully stated.

"No," Gage assured him. "I'll send the Sheriff." He turned and started heading for the door. "I'll be back in a minute." He glanced at their victim.

The young lady's lovely blue eyes were sparkling with excitement.

John was forced to smile. "Be ready to transport." That said, he shoved the chair they were using to keep the door closed away, and disappeared out into the hall.

The paramedic cringed as at least a dozen riled, costumed females immediately converged upon him—all demanding to know what was going on in the Ladies' Lounge. Gage realized he wasn't gonna get away without giving them some kind of an explanation. "Uh-uh, ladies…Ladies? LADIES! Calm down, ladies!"

The ladies quieted down…some.

"Uh-uh…" John decided to go along with Craig's original story. "There's been a plumbing accide—"

"—Yeah! We know! We Know!" a feisty redhead, dressed as a belly dancer, interrupted. "The toilets are backed up and you're still mopping…Ri-ight?"

"Uh-uh, no. No. We've finished mopping. But the paramedics are still in there, working on their victim. They'll be out in just a minute or two, if you'll just let me go—so I can get them a backboard out of their Rescue Squad. See for yourselves," he invited, as some of the ladies remained highly dubious. "It's parked right outside the front door."

Several of the women admitted to seeing the fire truck, all right.

The skeptics believed them…and began to back off.

John breathed a lo-ong sigh of relief and then made another attempt to leave. He gasped in exasperation, as he was again held back.

Little Red Riding Hood had grabbed a hold of his belt. "You forgot your plunger again," she said rather sweetly. But then her hazel eyes narrowed into angry slits. "What have you done to Karen?"

"She's fine! Honest!" the forgetful plumber assured her. Gage could tell—by the look on the girl's face—that his words had fallen on deaf ears. "Look, would you like to see for yourself?" he offered and dug his wallet out.

Red looked even more suspicious and confused. The stranger's true identity was inconsistent with how he was attired. "You bet I would!"

Gage stepped back up to the door. "Brice! Open up!"

The portal opened a crack. "Where's the backboard?" Craig inquired, upon noting his partner's empty hands.

"Don't ask. This young lady, here, would like to talk to your victim."

"All right," Brice grabbed the young lady by the arm and pulled her into the Lounge. "But not for long. She's very weak."

The door closed.

Gage managed an amused gasp. Then he turned and hurried off down the hall.

Craig shoved the chair back in front of the door and then escorted Red over to his victim's side. "Karen? Karen! You have a visitor…"

Karen was lying, motionless, on the sofa. She emitted a pitiful moan and forced her eyes open a crack. Suddenly, her peepers snapped fully open and she propped herself up on her elbows. "Hi, Nance!"

'Nance' was too stunned to return her friend's cheerful greeting. "Karen, what is going on around here?" She studied her friend's heavily bandaged left leg…and the IV tubing taped to her friend's right wrist. "You were gone so long, I was beginning to think you must a' fell in! So I decided to come and rescue you. But these two firemen beat me to it. Then this Spanish guy, who ain't really Spanish, comes out—wearing your hardhat! Then you keep the door shut and tell everybody the toilets are backed up! Then the guy in the hardhat comes back for his plunger! Then he comes out—without it—and says there's been this terrible accide—"

"—Oh, Nance! It's all a put on! None of this is real!" Karen held up her right wrist. "See? No needle! Just a lot a' tubing and tape and bandages! I'm helping these two—really cool—undercover firemen catch a gang of notorious 'dope fiends'!"

The 'really cool' fireman winced and shuddered and then placed an oxygen mask over his victim's nose and mouth—especially her mouth. "I'm afraid there's been a BIG misunderstanding…"

TBC