Hank looked down the embankment, trying to find the car. It was almost hidden by brush and shrubbery, but Hank spotted two wheels spinning from the top of the overturned vehicle. "There it is, Stoker," he told Mike.
Smoke was starting to billow from the bottom of the car. As the engine pulled to a stop on the road above, the wind picked up, sending the smoke up the embankment.
"John, Roy, let's tie off from the rig and see what we've got," Hank called out the window to them. "Kelly, get some water on that car."
Chet pulled the reel line off the engine as Mike readied the pumps. Marco and Hank rigged the lines as Johnny and Roy secured theirs. After an extra tug on the rope, Roy began his descent and immediately felt flushed. He faltered for a moment as Johnny came down alongside him.
"Hey, you okay?" questioned Johnny, concern in his eyes.
Roy blinked his eyes a couple of times and nodded. "Yeah, Yeah… let's get moving."
The two reached the destroyed car. Roy thought he saw some movement and looked in the window. He saw two women inside, one sitting dazed on the upside-down front seat holding her arm, and one hanging from a seat belt in the back.
Roy reached in to check the young woman in the front seat as Chet stumbled down the hill behind them with a reel line to douse the smoke. Johnny pulled on the door on his side of the car. After a few good tugs, it came open. "Roy, can you get the door open on your side, too?" he asked as he climbed into the car. Roy pulled on the door, stumbling backwards as a wave of dizziness hit.
"Roy, you okay?" Chet questioned worriedly.
"Yeah, I just pulled too hard," Roy insisted. "Can you help me get this door?"
Chet put a final shot of water on the car, then laid down the hose and helped Roy pull open the front door of the car.
Meanwhile, Johnny was shimmying into the back seat.
"Hi, there, I'm Johnny," he said, giving the woman there a reassuring smile. "We're here to get you out of here."
"There's a fire…"
"We've already taken care of it, you don't have to worry," Johnny assured her. "Now we're going to take care of you."
"Can you check my daughter first?" the woman asked. "She hurt her shoulder, that's why she couldn't help me get down from here."
"My partner's taking good care of her," Johnny reassured the woman. "What's your name?"
"Helen."
"What happened here, Helen?" Johnny asked as he expertly ran his hands up and down her arms and legs checking for injuries. Helen watched him closely.
"Some kids were racing and they ran us off the road," Helen explained. "Could you stop feeling me up and get me down from here?"
Johnny pulled his hands away abruptly. "I wasn't…"
Helen started to laugh. "It's okay, Johnny, I'm kidding," she assured him.
"I want to check you over before we move you any, so we don't aggravate any injuries you might have," Johnny informed her. "Are you hurting anywhere?"
"Not that I can feel."
"Good. Then we'll put you on a board and get you out of here," Johnny said with a reassuring smile. "Marco, can you push that in here?"
Marco nodded and slid the board onto the seat of the car, holding the other end.
"You don't need the board," Helen insisted.
"It's only a precaution, in case you injured your back or your neck when the car turned over," Johnny explained.
"You don't have to worry about paralyzing me, a drunk did that 20 years ago," Helen said matter-of-factly.
"You're paralyzed?"
"From the chest down. Is that going to make it harder for you boys to get me out of here?" she asked anxiously.
"No, no, don't you worry," Johnny said, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but then pulling it away awkwardly.
"I can feel it when you touch there," Helen informed him.
Johnny put his hand back on her shoulder with a smile. "Good. Then you'll know I'm hanging on to you tight when I cut this seat belt."
He put an arm around Helen's shoulders, then cut the seat belt, easily catching the rest of her body as it fell. "I'm going to lay you on the backboard, just to be safe," Johnny informed her as he carefully lay her down. He secured her to the board, then helped Marco lift it out of the car. "Set her down here, Marco."
Marco set the backboard down. "Do you need me for anything else?"
"No, we're good here," Johnny told him. "How's Roy doing?"
"Did they get my daughter out?" Helen questioned anxiously.
"Yes, ma'am. She's on the other side of the car," Marco told her. "She hurt her shoulder, but otherwise she seems okay."
"Thank God," Helen declared with a sigh of relief. "Could one of you check on my wheelchair, see if it's salvageable? It's in the trunk of the car."
"I'll look," Marco offered, trotting over to the side of the car.
Johnny looked in Roy's direction. "Roy!"
Roy shook his head, trying to get rid of the buzzing sound blasting through it. He thought he heard Johnny calling him, but he couldn't be sure it wasn't his imagination. "Roy, you okay?" Chet asked, noticing his distraction. Roy waved him off.
"I'm fine," he insisted. "Are we ready to go?"
"I think Johnny wants you," Chet told him. "He's been calling over here."
So I wasn't imagining that. "Yeah, Johnny?" he called loudly, not realizing Johnny was now at his side.
"Did you bring down the biophone?" Johnny asked as he rummaged through the Trauma box.
"I thought you had it," Roy told him.
"No, I had the Trauma box." He looked up the hill. "It's not worth the trouble to have Cap send it down. Let me get some vitals on my patient, and then we'll get them topside and call Rampart from there. I think they're stable enough. Are you done with these?" He held up the BP cuff and stethoscope. Roy nodded.
Hank's voice crackled over the H.T. "Squad 51, do you need the Stokes down there?"
"I think we can carry them up," Johnny told Marco, Chet and Roy. "What do you guys think?"
I don't even know how I'm going to make it up that hill, let alone carry someone. Roy kept that thought to himself, instead nodding at his partner's suggestion. Chet and Marco did the same.
The four men started up the hill. Even with the extra burden of the Trauma box in his hand, Johnny loped ahead easily, Marco struggling to keep up with him. Roy paced himself and Chet much more slowly, too slowly for Chet's liking. "Want me to take the front?" Chet asked about half way up.
"I'm not going to run up this hill and risk hurting my patient," Roy shot back defensively.
"Okay, but let's get there sometime today," Chet muttered softly.
"What?" an annoyed Roy asked.
"Nothing," Chet said glumly, silently following Roy the rest of the way up the hill.
As Johnny ran back down the hill for Helen's wheelchair, Roy pulled out the biophone. "Rampart, this is County 51. How do you read?"
"Go ahead, County 51," Brackett answered.
"Rampart, we have two female patients involved in a rollover automobile accident. Please stand by for vitals."
Roy fumbled in his shirt pocket for the paper on which he'd written vitals. "Victim one is a 23-year old female, the restrained driver of the vehicle," he reported, squinting as the words on the paper in front of him began to swim. "Vitals are…" He brought the paper closer. "…BP is 10…sorry, 110 over 64. Pulse is 102. Respirations are 22 (I'm making these a little higher, since she's still in pain). There is a noticeable deformity in the shoulder…" -- he glanced down at his patient -- "…in the left shoulder, with severe pain. We have the shoulder immobilized. Patient is complaining of no other pain, and there are no other signs of injury except for minor cuts and abrasions." Roy rubbed his eyes.
"No sign of head injury, 51?" Brackett double-checked.
"Negative, Rampart," Roy told him. "Request permission for MS."
"10-4, 51, go ahead with the MS," Brackett ordered. "Start an IV, Lactated Ringers, and give 4 milligrams MS, IV push."
Roy tried to write down the instructions, but the pen was shaking too badly in his hand. He tried to steady it with his other hand.
"51, did you get that last transmission?" Brackett asked after failing to get an answer from Roy.
"Negative, Rampart," Roy lied. "Please repeat."
Chet shot a curious glance at Johnny, who had returned just as Brackett was giving the instructions. Johnny shrugged as he worriedly watched his partner.
"51, start an IV, Lactated Ringers," Brackett ordered again. "Then give 4 milligrams MS, IV push."
"10-4, Rampart, IV Ringers and 4 milligrams MS IV," Roy repeated back correctly. "Stand by for vitals on Patient two."
He handed the biophone to Johnny, who gave him a worried look. "You okay?"
Johnny asked. Roy didn't answer, turning away to grab the IV set-up.