Chapter Two
As the ambulance doors close and the vehicle drives away, both patients and his partner inside, Roy finally relaxes. He's sitting on the bumper of the squad, applying a bandage to where some flying sparks singed a spot on his hand, when Johnny's lady friend approaches with a sheepish grin.
"Hi, Roy..." she says, her arms folded across her stomach.
He stands up. "Hey, Bethany."
"I, uh, just wanted to thank you...for your help. I don't think I've...ever been so scared in my entire life..."
"Well, it was a frightening experience. Even for us," he admits with a short laugh.
"Not that you show it...either of you."
"Well it's part of our job to always remain calm," he explains. "I'm sure you can relate." Bethany chuckles and shakes her head.
"Sure, but my job doesn't require me to...put my life on the line like that... Is it always like this for you two?"
"Well, not always..." he tells her. "But we see our fair share of action, yeah."
"Hm..." There's a distant expression on her face and a pinch between her eyebrows. Her hands are still trembling.
"Look, are you sure you're alright? I can drive you to Rampart General to have them take a look if you want..."
"No, no, I'm fine. Just a little shaken. Just uh..." Suddenly a pager in her pocket gives an angry beep and sighs, shaking her head. "I'm going to drop by the hospital later to check in on that man, but in case I miss you guys, tell Johnny I said thanks too."
"Sure thing, Bethany."
"Thanks, Roy." With that, she walks off toward the parking lot, where he assumes her car to be parked. The paramedic follows her example and gets into the squad. Roy picks up the CB. "Squad 51 en route to Rampart."
"Squad 51."
"I'm tellin' you, Dix, this girl really is something else!" Johnny insists, "Even her name! Bethany. It-it's like a movie star, don't you think?"
"Well I'm glad the two of you really hit it off." Dixie says for probably the fifth time now. Don't get her wrong. She loves Johnny. And she's thrilled he's finally found a nice girl he seems to be head over heels for... But she's been hearing about this 'Bethany' for almost fifteen minutes. If this goes on for much longer, she won't even need to meet the lady. She'll already know her whole life story.
So, of course, Dixie thanks her lucky stars when Johnny's better half comes around the corner of the nurse's station looking as stoic and silent as ever. "Hey there, Roy," she greets, cutting Gage off mid-sentence. "What took you so long?" Her tone is light and casual but there's an underlying desperation that he understands all too well.
"Sorry, had to fill up the squad," he says. Then turning to Johnny, asks, "How're the victims?"
"The boy's fine, just a minor sprain. Morton's already sent him home. As for the cardiac case, well...he's in surgery right now with Brackett and Early. Didn't look too good."
"Hm," Roy shakes his head. "It's a shame. I hope he makes it through."
"Yeah, so do I." Johnny pauses for a beat and then stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Say, Roy, I didn't get much chance to talk to Beth after we got out...how'd she seem to you?"
"She was shaken, but that's to be expected. She wanted me to tell you thanks for your help."
Johnny nods. "I should be thanking her. You know, she did a lot to keep that mother and her son calm while I treated the man. Held the drip for me too so I had a free hand...she was almost a better partner than you, Roy." By the grin on his face, Roy can tell he's only teasing...but he rolls his eyes anyway.
"Maybe you should tell her that."
"Huh?"
"I just saw Bethany at the reception desk. Said she'd be back in a few minutes."
"Wha-really?"
"Yup...and here she comes now."
Johnny whips around just in time to nearly collide with his date as she approaches the nurse's station with a briefcase and a cup of coffee in hand. The latter of which nearly spills down the front of her blouse and the former skids several feet across the tiled floor. "Ahh-sorry, Beth! Hang on."
Roy grins and leans back next to Dix as Johnny chases after her briefcase and brings it back with a sheepish look on his face.
"Thanks," she says with a smile. "I'm glad I caught you guys before you had to leave. How's that man? And the boy?"
Johnny repeats what he told Roy to Bethany and she nods in understanding.
"Well I hope it ends well..." she mutters.
"He's with the two best surgeons in the county, so I wouldn't worry too much," Dixie tells her, standing up from her lounged position behind the counter. "It's nice to meet you, Bethany. Our little Johnny, here, has told me a lot about you."
The two women shake hands.
"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage..." Bethany admits, looking to Johnny for help.
"Beth, this is Dixie. She just about runs this place," he says.
"If only that were true," Dix laughs.
"It's nice to meet you, Dixie. I-"
Beep, beep, beep.
"Ahhh...that's for me. Sorry, everyone, I gotta run," Bethany says, taking one more sip of her coffee before tossing the styrofoam cup in the trash can. She spares one more moment to lean in and give Johnny a peck on the cheek and ask if their date is still on for that night. To which Johnny gives a whole-hearted affirmative. She smiles and hurries back out the door.
"Well, well, well...seems like Johnny's not the only one who's a bit head over heels..." Dixie teases, elbowing Roy in the ribs.
"Yep. I never thought I'd see the day, Dix."
Johnny's still a little red in the cheeks when he turns to grin at his friends. "She's a lawyer, ya know?"
Back at the station, the kitchen table is covered in the makings for lunch as Gage flips the sizzling burgers on the stove. He's humming to himself as the other men talk about last night's game, their weekends, the fish Marco caught at the lake, and really anything else that keeps them from hearing the word "Bethany" for a few more precious moments.
"Aaalright, lunch is served!" Johnny says, turning off the stove. He passes the plate stacked with burgers to Roy, who divvies them out.
"Burgers again, Gage?" Chet sighs. "Whatever happened to that cookbook you got? That soup you made was delicious!"
"Yeah, you've gotta give me that recipe." Cap agrees.
"Uhh...it's um, well-" Sinking down in his chair, Johnny is trying to come up with a feasible excuse when they hear the tones.
Squad 51, man down, 773 Route 30 District Heights, Cross street 1st. Timeout 1545.
"Save us some burgers!" Johnny says as he and Roy jump right back out of their chairs and run to the squad. Gage checks the map and jots down the location while Roy answers the dispatch.
"Squad 51, KMG-365."
"That address is the restaurant on Route 30, isn't it?" Johnny asks as he tightens the chin strap on his helmet.
"I think so, yeah. Why?"
Johnny smirks. "That's where I'm taking Beth tonight."
Great. Here we go again... "That's great, Johnny. Let's just focus on the rescue, alright?"
"Sure, sure...hm...ya know, Roy, she really is somethin' else..."
Roy sighs.
As soon as squad 51 pulls into the barren parking lot of the restaurant, the hairs on the back of Roy's neck stand on end...
The windows are dark, there isn't a single vehicle anywhere to be seen, even in the street.
"Johnny, what time did you say this place opens up?"
"Uh, about five..."
Roy looks down at his watch and frowns. "It's almost four thirty. Don't you think there'd be an employee or someone here...?"
"You think they gave us the wrong address?"
"Could be..."
Johnny picks up the CB and decides to ask. "Dispatch, this squad 51, can we have a repeat on that address?"
"10-4, 51. Address is: 773 Route 30 District Heights, Cross street 1st."
"10-4, Dispatch. Squad 51 at scene." Johnny sets down the receiver and looks at Roy. With a shrug, the paramedics exit the vehicle and grab the drug box and biophone, just to start. "Where do you think this guy's at?"
"I dunno. Let's split up and search for him. I'll check the front door, make sure he isn't inside."
"Mmkay." Johnny says, jogging around the side of the building into a dingy-looking alley.
Sure enough, the decorative white paint on the front door announces opening hours to be five in the evening...strange that there wouldn't be anyone here yet getting ready. Roy tries the doorknob and finds it tightly secured. The windows are all intact so unless there's a backdoor-
"Roy! I found him! Better bring the trauma box!"
With a clench in his gut, Roy grabs the supplies from the squad and hurries into the filthy alley, where he finds his partner kneeling behind some trash cans next to a man laying flat on his stomach, blood pooling around a gun shot wound to his upper right abdomen.
Roy opens the biophone as Johnny turns the man over and begins taking vitals. Both of them shift uncomfortably at the darkness of their surroundings and the instinctive buzz of paranoid fear along their arms and neck. LA can be a nice place. But it can also be dangerous.
"Dispatch to squad 51. Dispatch to squad 5-1."
"Squad 51. Go ahead Dispatch."
"51, be aware of reported shots fired in your vicinity. LAPD en route. ETA 15 minutes."
"10-4, Dispatch. How is he?" Roy asks, clipping his handie talkie to his belt again.
"Not good," Johnny mutters. "Put pressure on that wound for me, woulda?"
"Yeah." Scooting closer, Roy presses the heels on his hands firmly over the wound and grimaces when blood begins leaking through his fingers. He's losing a lot of blood.
"Rampart, this is squad 51."
"Go ahead, 51."
"Rampart, I've a got victim here. Male, age 25. He's suffering from a gun shoot wound to the upper right abdomen and has lost approximately a quart of blood. His skin is cold and clammy and he's shocky. Vitals are: pulse 120, respirations 30 and shallow, BP 90/100."
"51, start an IV with ringers lactate and keep pressure on the wound. Apply shock trousers and transport as soon as possible. Continuing monitoring vitals."
"10-4, Rampart." Johnny moves quickly to get the IV started, entirely focused on the task at hand. However, Roy can't help but continually peek over his shoulder at the mouth of the alley where he can just barely see the bumper of the squad.
He's got goosebumps...and it's not from the cold.
"We're gonna need stokes," Johnny says, standing up. "Stay with him. I'll be right back." As he jogs away, Roy calls after him to watch himself. He doesn't need to remind Johnny where they are. Or what kind of injury they're dealing with.
As his partner disappears around the corner, Roy returns his attention to the victim. The man's skin is still losing color and occasionally his arms or legs will jerk. Fortunately, though, there's no sign of cyanosis.
Roy watches his respirations carefully. Shallow and a bit raspy. The count per minute is down now. Twenty-five breaths. Whether that's good or not, he isn't sure yet. He decides to have Johnny ask Rampart when he returns with the stokes...
But a minute passes.
And then another.
And still no Johnny.
Roy impatiently cranes his neck, trying to see around the corner. He hasn't heard a peep from Gage or anyone else. Far, far in the distance, he thinks he hears police sirens.
"Johnny?" he hisses, instinctively feeling like he should be whispering... "Johnny? What's taking so long with that stokes?"
He doesn't get an immediately response. But just as he's about to call out again, he hears his handie-talkie fizzing with quiet chatter. His hands are still pressed to the victim's wound so he can't pick it up to listen too closely...
But it sure does sound like Johnny's voice...whispering into the radio.
"Dispatch, this is squad 51. Requesting police backup immediately. Paramedics in danger. I repeat, squad 51 in danger. Requesting police backup at our location!"
"10-4, 51. LAPD ETA is now five minutes. How critical is your situation?"
"Uhh, I-"
BANG!
Roy wrips his handie talkie off his belt with one, bloody hand. "That's shots fired, Dispatch! Squad 51 is under fire!"
"10-4, 51. LAPD is nearly at your location. They want to know if anyone is wounded."
When Johnny doesn't respond, Roy lifts his radio again.
"Unknown. One possible Code I."
"ETA is now three minutes, 51."
Sirens are wailing in the distance, but the voices of many, angry-sounding men are even closer. Roy stiffens at the sound of heavy footfalls approaching the alleyway.
Three men dressed in gang colors appear around the corner. They're panting and shouting angrily in a language Roy doesn't understand. The lead man has a pistol in his hand...he can't tell in the others are armed or not.
The man with the gun is pointing at Roy's patient and yelling.
"I-I don't know understand what you're-" Roy tries, only to flinch when the man stomps forward a few steps and screams something else. The sirens don't sound much closer...
Roy swallows and looks down, trying to maintain his composure. He has to keep his head...
Blood is still pouring from the victim's wound. Soaking through his shirt...
Soaking through his...opposing gang colors.
...oh.