EMERGENCY! 2.0
SEASON 1-EPISODE 1
"One More Shift"
Squad 51 cruised along the empty street, siren screaming and red LED lights flashing rapidly, followed by Engine 51's large KME pumper. This late at night, there wasn't much traffic to impede their response.
"What is this? Twelve?" asked Johnny Gage, riding shotgun in the squad as his partner Roy DeSoto steered.
"Fourteen," Roy sighed.
"Man, fourteen runs. I am beat."
"Cheer up, Junior. We've still got four hours left on our shift."
They rounded the corner onto Screenland Terrace to find flames erupting from two first floor windows of a house near the middle of the block.
Roy parked the squad just past the driveway and he and Johnny quickly exited the truck. The engine roared to a stop in the street behind them.
"L.A., Engine 51 on scene, 1224 Screenland," Captain Stanley called into his radio from his perch in the cab of the engine. "We have a two story, single family dwelling, heavy smoke and fire from the Alpha side, bottom floor. Initiating fire attack. Engine 51 will be Screenland I.C.."
"Engine 51. Stand by for comm plan," the dispatcher replied, before repeating the information to the incoming units.
Stanley slipped off his blue headset, then hopped down from the engine and slammed his door.
"Chet! Inch and three quarter! Marco, take the hydrant!"
Marco Lopez stepped up onto the tailboard of Engine 51 and pulled down a length of yellow supply line from the hose bed, which he threw over his shoulder, then stretched to the hydrant several feet away. Chet Kelly pulled off several folded lengths of inch and three quarter hose from the tray behind the cab of the engine and began to flake it out in an 'S' pattern across the lawn. Mike Stoker, 51's engineer, had taken his place at the engine's pump panel.
Roy opened a compartment on the left side of the squad and retrieved his breathing apparatus, which he slung onto his shoulders, slipping his arms through the harness. Johnny did the same.
People up and down the block began to emerge from their houses to gawk at the sight before them, the trucks' red LED lights flashing over their faces. Sirens filled the air as they grew closer.
Captain Stanley had begun to make his way down the driveway to begin a quick 360 degree size-up of the building when a man appeared in a second floor window.
"Help!" he called, coughing. "Help us! I can't get to my daughter!"
"Gage! DeSoto! Ladder that window!" the captain called before turning his attention to the man. "Hang on! We're coming to get you!"
The two firefighter/paramedics quickly pulled down the 24 foot ground ladder from the right side of the pumper and carried it across the lawn to the house.
"L.A., Screenland I.C.," Stanley called into his radio. "We have two people trapped on the second floor. Squad 51 initiating a search."
Johnny held the ladder in place as Roy pulled the halyard to extend it. He tied it off and they tilted the ladder until it was propped against the second floor window.
"Climb onto the ladder and we'll help you down!" Roy called to the man in the window.
"My daughter! She's still inside! You have to get her!" he cried.
"We will, but we need to get you out first!"
The man swung a leg over the window sill and stepped onto the ladder. Roy climbed up behind him and helped him navigate the rungs one at a time until he was on the ground.
"Do you know where your daughter is?" asked Johnny.
"First door on the left, outside of the bedroom," the man coughed, his hands on his knees. "I tried to find her, but the smoke was so thick…"
"Is there anyone else inside?"
"No," the man coughed again. "Just us."
"It's okay, we'll find her. How old's your daughter?"
"She's seven. Her name's Kimberly. Please save her!"
Johnny slipped his mask and helmet on, then ascended the ladder behind his partner. They entered through the window, then dropped to their knees, enveloped in toxic black smoke.
"Fire Department!" Roy called through his mask's voice amplifier. "Kimberly! Can you hear us?"
He and Johnny crawled on their hands and knees as they made their way into the hallway from the master bedroom. They could feel heat radiating up through the floor.
Roy held the small thermal imaging camera to his mask.
"Open door! You see it?"
Johnny studied his own TIC as he followed him inside the bedroom.
"Got it!"
"Kimberly!" Roy called, venturing into the room. "This is the Fire Department! We're here to help you! Can you hear us?"
He scanned the small bedroom with the camera. No human heat signature was visible.
"Roy!" Johnny called. "Try the closet!"
Roy crawled two feet to his right and pulled open the closet door. The ghostly white image of a motionless child appeared on the viewfinder.
"Got her!" he shouted. "She's not moving!"
He scooped her into his arms and carried her back through the bedroom.
"Screenland I.C. from Search Team," Johnny keyed his mic. "We've located the patient. Bringing her out now!"
Quint 116 had arrived moments earlier and extended its aerial ladder to the window.
"I got her!", called one of 116's firefighters as he appeared at the tip of the ladder.
"I don't think she's breathing!" Roy called, handing the small girl to him.
The firefighter cautiously took her into his arms and descended the aerial. Johnny and Roy followed.
"I can't find a pulse!" called 116's man.
As soon as he had reached the turntable at the bottom of the ladder, he handed the little girl down to Captain Stanley.
The captain carried her a few feet away and gently placed her on the grass. Her face, hair, and pink pajamas were stained with dark soot.
Johnny slipped off his mask and tossed his helmet aside. Roy had quickly pulled their gear from the squad and carried it over.
"Starting CPR," Johnny said urgently, placing his palm over the girl's chest and starting chest compressions. "One…two...three...four…"
Roy pulled the laryngoscope from the airway kit.
"I'll get ready to tube her."
The girl's father stood behind them, wearing a terrified expression as he took in the scene.
"Sir, why don't we let these men over here take a look at you?" Stanley said, motioning towards a pair of firefighters. "You took in a lot of smoke."
"No! I'm not leaving!" the man coughed as the captain placed a hand on his shoulder.
Johnny continued chest compressions. Roy had retrieved an ET tube. Just before he could tear open the package, the little girl gasped.
She gasped again, sucking in the fresh night air. Then she broke into a coughing fit.
Roy looked down at her, then at Johnny. They both smiled in relief.
"Oh thank God!" the girl's father sobbed. "Thank you God! Thank you!"
"The ambulance is almost here," Stanley informed him. "You're going too. You both took in a lot of smoke."
"Okay," the man sniffed, wiping his eyes. "Which hospital?"
"Rampart General," Roy said over his shoulder as he slipped an oxygen mask over the girl's face. He sighed and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead.
XXXXXX
"Seven year old female, respiratory distress from smoke inhalation," Johnny reported as he and the EMT's from the ambulance crew wheeled their young patient into the Rampart General emergency department on a gurney. "We found her unresponsive. Performed CPR in the field and were about to intubate when she regained spontaneous pulse and respirations. Alert and oriented times three, B.P. is 101 over 78, pulse is 85, resps are 30, she's satting at 90% on 6 liters of O-2 by non-rebreather mask."
"We can take her in Three," said Sharon Walters, a fresh-faced, redheaded nurse. She slid open the glass door of an exam room. "What's her name?"
They wheeled the patient beside an exam table as Dr. Morton entered, followed by various other members of the medical team.
"Her name's Kimberly," said Johnny, unbuckling the gurney's straps.
"Hey, Kimberly. My name's Sharon," the young nurse smiled down at her. "We're gonna take real good care of you, okay? You and your Dad both. We're going to make you feel all better."
"On my count," said Dr. Morton. "One...two...three!"
The EMT's lifted the girl onto the exam table. Johnny picked up the combination heart monitor and defibrillator known as the Lifepak, from the gurney, and stepped back.
"You need me for anything else, Doc?" he asked.
"No, you're good," Morton replied, his back turned to him. "Good job, 51."
Johnny waved to the little girl as he backed out of the room.
Dixie McCall, the blonde haired charge nurse, rounded the corner wearing navy blue scrubs.
"There he is, the short-timer!"
"The what?" Johnny yawned as she stepped past him.
She took a seat at the horseshoe-shaped nurses' station that was the hub of the ER.
"When I was in Iraq, that's what we called people whose tour was almost up. short timers." she took a sip of cold coffee from a paper cup and frowned while staring down at it. "Your paramedic field training's almost up, right?"
"Yep," he placed the Lifepak and digital tablet on the counter and rubbed both of his eyes. "It can't come soon enough. One more shift and I'll be certified. Hopefully."
"Hey, what's this 'hopefully' talk? You've got it in the bag, kid. You're one of the best trainees we've had come through here."
Johnny shrugged.
"Thanks. I just don't wanna jinx it, I guess."
"Do you know which station you'll be assigned to once you're certified?"
"Who knows?" Johnny tapped on the screen of his tablet, double checking the ePCR form. "It's a closely guarded secret, apparently. I just hope they don't send me up into the desert or somewhere."
Roy walked over, wearing a blue, department issued pullover and yellow turnout pants. His cheeks were smudged with soot.
"How's the girl?"
"Started perkin' up in the ambulance," Johnny replied. "Looks like she'll be okay."
"Roy, your trainee here seems to be lacking in confidence," said Dixie.
"Really?" Roy leaned against the counter. "I've heard him accused of a lot of things before, but never that."
"A few of my nurses would no doubt agree." Dixie tossed her cup into a waste basket. "He's worried about his last day of training."
"Oh," Roy sighed. "That..."
"Yeah, that," Johnny ran a hand through his dark hair. "He's a tough preceptor, Dix. I mean, one mistake and..."
Roy clapped him on the shoulder.
"I told ya, Gage. I'm tough but fair. Barring an unforeseen catastrophe, you'll be certified. Now, can we get back to quarters and hopefully get some sleep before the end of our shift?"
"Sounds good to me," Johnny grabbed the Lifepak and tablet. "See ya, Dix."
A quick alert tone called out from their radios.
"Engine 58, Squad 51, fall victim-ALS. 15534 Ventura, cross street Temple."
"Well,"Johnny said as they jogged for the exit. "It was a nice thought, anyway."
XXXXXX
Monday morning.
Roy buttoned his dark blue uniform shirt as he stood inside Station 51's locker room. The wooden lockers were ancient, but like the rest of the nearly sixty year old fire station, still in excellent condition, a testament to the pride in ownership shared by most in the fire service.
Chet walked in wearing a black AC/DC T-shirt and blue jeans.
"Mornin'," he said, opening his locker.
"Chet," Roy closed his locker. "I wanna talk to you for a minute."
Chet kicked off his sneakers.
"Speak away, pal."
"I want you to leave Gage alone today."
Chet stared at him in wide-eyed mock innocence.
"Whatever do you mean, Roy?"
Roy folded his arms as he leaned against his locker.
"I mean, I...I know how you like to cram Johnny, but today isn't the day. I've ridden with the guy for a while now. I know that for all of his cockiness and everything, he's a bit neurotic and he's already gotten into his own head a bit about finishing his last day of field training. He doesn't need you in there, too."
"Roy, I'm hurt that you would even think that." Chet pulled off his T-shirt.
"Perish the thought, man. I like Johnny. I want him to succeed."
"Thank you."
Captain Stanley walked in from the adjoining dormitory.
"Line up's in two minutes, gentlemen."
"Got it, Cap," they replied in unison.
Stanley left, before briefly reappearing.
"And Kelly, leave Gage alone."
The curly-haired firefighter threw up his hands.
"Never crossed my mind, Cap."
"Yeah? Well, see that it doesn't."
The crew of 51's A-shift convened in the kitchen for the morning line up. Johnny slid a pink box onto the table and opened it to reveal a dozen large doughnuts.
"Hey, you got the good stuff!" Marco smiled as he reached for a maple bar.
"Of course," Johnny replied, biting into an apple fritter as he took his seat. "I mean, it's my last day here and I don't think I've ever worked with a better bunch of guys, so I figured it's the least I could do."
Mike Stoker took a raspberry jelly-filled from the box.
"You're okay, Gage. I don't care what Chet says about you."
"Aw, Chet's a good guy," Johnny motioned to the box as Chet and Roy walked in. "Just talkin' about ya, Chester! Have a doughnut. I had 'em toss in a pineapple-filled for ya."
Chet took his seat and placed the doughnut on a napkin.
"Good lookin' out, Gage."
"Can we get started, please?" Stanley asked, taking his place at the head of the table and flipping open his binder. "First, looks like C-Shift had a busy night, so the engine is gonna need a good scrubbing and..."
A high-low tone echoed through the station followed by three beeps.
"Engine 45, Squad 51," the dispatcher called from the speaker above the kitchen door. "9-1-1 hang up. 2232 Romero Court. Cross street Lincoln. Sheriff also responding."
Johnny and Roy pushed back from the table and made their way out of the kitchen.
"Hey, good luck, Johnny!" Chet called after them.
Johnny shot a look back at him as he disappeared onto the apparatus floor.
"Chet!" Marco hissed as he and Stoker tossed balled up napkins at him.
"What'd I do?" Chet replied, his cheeks full of pineapple doughnut.
Captain Stanley shook his head.
"Twit."
Johnny buckled his seat belt in the squad as Roy started the engine.
"Whattaya think Chet meant by that? Good luck?"
Roy hit the siren as they pulled out of the station.
"Who knows what Chet means about anything?"
XXXXXX
Despite the fact that it wasn't even 9 a.m., Rampart General's ER was already buzzing with activity. Doctors, nurses, and paramedics passed each other in the halls while the triage area had begun to fill with prospective patients.
Dixie stood at the nurses station, holding a phone to her ear, hand on her hip.
"I don't care," she said sternly to the person on the other end of the line. "You send my student nurses back downstairs right now, or I'm coming up to get them and you don't want that."
She slammed down the phone and brushed back a strand of platinum hair from her forehead.
Dr. Joe Early rounded the corner, pulling a white lab coat on over a pink dress shirt, a Starbucks cup in one hand, bagel clenched in his teeth.
"They've got your Irish up this early in the shift? That's not a good omen."
"Nice of you to join us this morning, Joe," Dixie chirped, leaving the horseshoe, clipboard in hand.
The silver-haired doctor shrugged as he chewed.
"Give me a break, Dix. You know how the 405 is this time of day. I'm lucky I'm only twenty minutes late. I miss anything good?"
"118 is bringing in a five year old boy with a GSW. They're setting up in Two."
Early offered a salute as he passed her.
"On my way."
Dixie continued down the hall, then stopped when she saw Dr. Brackett and the other members of the trauma team slowly leaving one of the bays, sullen looks on their faces.
Brackett sighed as he pulled off a yellow paper smock and tossed it into a bio-hazard bin. He stripped off his gloves and threw them in after, then looked up to see Dixie standing before him.
"The motorcycle kid," she said quietly.
He slowly nodded.
"We almost had him back."
"I'm sorry, Kel."
"Damned kids. They think they're invincible. Anybody get a hold of his next of kin yet?"
She shook her head.
"Still trying."
The tall doctor exhaled.
"What's holding?"
"Bounce back migraine in Curtain 3. Stomach pains in Five..."
The automatic doors slid open and two EMT's wheeled Squad 118's patient into the ER with a fire department paramedic close behind.
"Trauma 2, fellas." Dixie motioned down the hall.
Dr. Brackett folded his arms.
"You didn't tell me we had a trauma inbound."
Dixie held her clipboard close to her chest and shrugged.
"Figured you needed a breather. Joe's got it."
He stared at his shoes for a minute, then looked up at her with a smirk.
"Thanks, Dix."
Dixie smiled back.
"Any time," she called, stepping past him.
Brackett exhaled, then headed off to find someone else to help.
XXXXXX
Squad 51 pulled to the curb in front of an older duplex.
"Which one was it?" asked Roy as he and Johnny emerged from the squad.
"Apartment B," Johnny replied, pulling the orange med box from one of the truck's side compartments. Roy grabbed the oxygen and Lifepak and followed him up the walkway.
Johnny stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door
"Fire Department!"
Roy Peered through the front window to see a woman laying face down on the living room floor inside.
"Johnny, we got a woman down on the floor," he said.
Johnny turned the doorknob to find it unlocked. They quickly made their way inside.
"Ma'am, can you hear me?" Johnny called, kneeling on the floor beside her.
"Yeth," replied the young woman. "I cuh hear you."
"Okay, can you move?"
"No," the woman sighed, her voice muffled by the shag carpet.
"What seems to be the problem, Ma'am?", asked Roy, kneeling across from his partner.
"My brathes are thuck to the carfet," she sighed.
"Sorry, what?" asked Johnny.
Roy stifled a smile.
"She said her braces are stuck to the carpet."
"Yeth!" the woman pointed in the direction that she heard Roy's voice come from.
Johnny sat back on his heels and keyed the mic on his chest.
"L.A., Squad 51, you can cancel Engine 45 and the Sheriff."
"Just hang on one second," Roy said, pulling the trauma shears from the holster on his belt. He leaned down and deftly snipped the carpet fibers that had been holding the young woman hostage.
"Oh thank you!" she sighed in relief as she sat up. "I've been like this for forty-five minutes! I was trying to find an earring that I dropped and I slipped, and the next thing you know, I'm entwined in the damned carpet!"
Johnny pulled off his exam gloves as he stood up.
"Well, how did you call 9-1-1?"
"My cell phone," the woman replied, resting back on an elbow as she picked the fibers from her braces. "But then, butterfingers, it slipped out of my hand and fell under the chair over there."
Roy dropped to his knees and leaned on his elbow as he peered under a vintage leather easy chair. He pulled an iPhone in a pink case from under the chair and handed it to her.
"Thank you, guys. I'm so embarrassed. As if getting braces at 26 wasn't bad enough, I have to call the fire department to come rescue me from my carpet."
"Well, uh...these things happen," Roy replied as he and Johnny picked up their gear. "If you're okay otherwise, we're gonna go."
"Yeah, I'm fine," the woman exhaled, trailing a hand through her long brown hair. "I really do appreciate your help, guys. Thank you again."
Johnny shook his head as they walked back to the squad.
"Think this is a sign of how our day's gonna go?"
Roy slid the Lifepak and oxygen case back into the squad's side compartment.
"Eh, you know how it is. One minute, it's something small like this, the next you roll on something you can't wait to tell the next shift about before you go home."
Johnny closed the cabinet doors and turned the lock.
"Really, what did Chet mean by 'good luck'?"
Roy shook his head as he rounded the front of the squad.
"Kelly's just crammin' ya. That's what he does."
They climbed into the truck and closed their doors. Johnny sighed.
"Because it's my last day of field training? He thinks he's being cute. Tryin' to get into my head. I won't give him the satisfaction. He's one guy I won't miss when I leave 51's, I'll tell ya that much."
"You're not the first guy to say that." Roy started the engine.
Johnny tapped the Available button on the MDC's monitor. Then exhaled as he looked at his watch.
"Maybe it'll be a slow shift."
A burst tone sounded from the radio.
"Quint 127, Squad 51, unknown medical, 301 South Hatteras. Cross street Heliotrope."
Roy shot him a look.
"You just had to say that, didn't you?"
"Okay," Johnny sighed. "That one's on me."
XXXXXX
Engine 51's mechanical siren faded as it rolled below an overpass on the 405 Freeway. Stoker stopped the pumper on the off-ramp below a burning van which was parked half way up the steep incline. Billowing clouds of pitch black smoke rose into the morning air.
"L.A, Engine 51 on scene, Northbound 405 at Arizona," Captain Stanley called into his mic. "We have a mid-size van, fully involved. Have Engine 105 continue in and notify CHP that we need traffic control as soon as possible."
Stoker engaged the pump, then hopped down from the rig and quickly placed chocks under the rear tires.
"Mask up, boys!" Stanley called as he closed his door.
Chet pushed back his yellow helmet and slipped on his hood as he stood a few feet away.
"Where's CHP?" he called as he stared back down the freeway. "And where's the driver?"
Marco had rounded the back of the engine and was about to slip on his mask when he looked up to see something unusual.
The burning van was rolling straight towards the firefighters.
"Look out, you guys!" he shouted as he shoved Chet against the rig and shielded him with his body.
Stoker looked up at the last minute and leaped onto the engine's running board.
Standing on the officer's side of the rig, Captain Stanley could only watch as the burning van passed by the fire engine with less than five feet to spare. The dark orange flames licked out at his firefighters as it rolled past.
The burning vehicle continued on down the ramp into oncoming traffic, forcing several cars to swerve out of the way. It suddenly veered to the left and came to a stop as it hit the center divider.
"Everybody okay?" Stanley called. His crew answered in the affirmative.
Engine 105 drove down the off-ramp and stopped on the freeway.
"The hell was that, Hank?" the captain called as he rounded the front of the pumper.
"Brake line must've burned through," Stanley replied, shouldering his breathing apparatus.
Marco climbed back onto Engine 51 and pulled down the reel line.
"I owe ya, Marco," Chet called. "I should've chocked the wheels."
Marco waved him off as if to say, "Don't worry about it".
Captain Stanley slapped Chet's shoulder with a gloved hand.
"Don't sweat it, Kelly. We'd only been here all of thirty seconds when the thing took off!"
Two CHP motorcycle officers arrived, approaching from the opposite direction, riding up the now empty freeway lanes.
A man wearing a red jacket jogged down the off-ramp, waving his arms.
"Whoa!" Stanley called. "I need you to stay right there, Sir. It's not safe."
"What'd you guys do to my van?!"
"What did we do? We didn't do anything. Someone called us because your van was on fire."
The man ran a hand over his bald head.
"It wasn't on fire when I left it! It was just a little overheated is all. My phone was dead so I just ran up to the strip mall to call Triple-A."
The captain looked back at the van which was being attacked with hose lines by both engine companies. The dark smoke had turned light gray as the water began to snuff out the flames.
"I'd say it was a little more than overheated."
XXXXXX
Johnny laughed as he chopped celery at the counter in the station's kitchen, a towel draped over his shoulder.
"I thought you looked a little crispy around the ears there, Chet."
Chet shook his head as he sat at the table with Marco and Stoker.
"Laugh it up, Gage. If it hadn't been for Marco here, I'd probably be laid up in Rampart right now."
Roy leaned against the sink beside his partner.
"I'm sure you'd hate that. The nurses still talk about the last time you were a patient."
"Really?" Chet grinned. "What'd they say?"
Roy bit off the end of a carrot stick.
"You don't wanna know."
"Hey, what's goin' on with chow, Gage?" the captain called as he walked in. "We're starvin' here."
Johnny tilted the chopping board and used a butcher knife to scrape the chopped celery into a large metal bowl.
"Good things come to those who wait, Cap."
"So I guess we're gonna be waitin' a long time then, huh?" Chet piped up.
Johnny turned and pointed at him with the knife.
"You know what, Chet…"
The dispatch tones sounded.
"Engines 51, 236, 45, Engine and Quint 116, Squad 51, Battalion 23," the dispatcher droned as the firefighters jogged out of the kitchen. "Structure fire, 51's area. 3125 Keystone, cross street Winward."
Johnny tossed the knife and towel into the sink, then placed the bowl in the refrigerator before following the others.
The firefighters quickly kicked off their station boots and stepped into their turnouts. Seconds later, the squad pulled out of the station and turned right into traffic with the engine following, both with sirens screaming.
Captain Stanley studied the screen of the rig's computer as he closed his turnout coat.
"Got a reported explosion," he said into his headset. "L.A.'s got multiple calls. Looks we might have a boomer, boys."
"Literally!" Chet called as he pulled on a glove.
"Chet..." Marco chuckled as he shook his head.
They rounded the corner to see a column of black smoke rising above the trees and rooftops ahead of them.
"We got smoke," Johnny said to his partner, just as Captain Stanley's voice came over the radio.
"L.A., Engine 51, we've got a header about half a mile out."
A tone sounded over the radio.
"All units responding with Engine 51; be advised, Engine 51 reports a header visible."
A minute later, they arrived on Keystone Avenue. Smoke rose into the afternoon sky from behind a one-story house. A large crowd of people stood in the driveway and on the front lawn.
Johnny and Roy quickly stepped from the squad as Engine 51 lurched to a halt behind them.
"L.A., Engine 51 on scene, 3125 Keystone," Stanley reported. "We have a single-story, single family dwelling, heavy smoke showing from the Charlie side. Engine 51 initiating fire attack."
A man with long brown hair and a beard ran over to Johnny as he was pulling on his breathing apparatus.
"It was just supposed to be a small bang, that's all!" the man held a hand to his forehead. "But it was was so much bigger and then, the fence went up and...oh my God!"
"Okay, what blew up?" asked Johnny.
"It was just some gunpowder in a tube. We were doing a gender reveal party and the smoke was supposed to blow up pink or blue, you know? I don't know what happened…"
"Is anyone hurt?" Roy asked as he stepped onto the sidewalk.
"I...I don't think so…"
"I'm gonna need everyone to move out of the way!" the captain called to the crowd. "Move over to the lawn next door and stay there! Is there anyone inside the house?"
"No, we're all outside," the bearded man replied.
Johnny slipped his helmet on.
"Cap, he said he detonated some kinda device with gunpowder in it. I don't know, like some kind of firework or something."
"Lovely," Stanley sighed. "Marco, let's go, pal!"
A woman ran from beside the house, her light blue dress was soaked in blood.
"Help! Help me!"
Roy rushed forward to meet her.
"Take it easy, ma'am. Where are you hurt?"
"It's not my blood!" she cried, turning to run back. "It's my uncle Gorge! He's got metal in his leg! He's hurt bad!"
"We'll get him," Roy said, pulling on his helmet. "Johnny, grab the gear."
Johnny pulled the trauma and med boxes from the squad and followed his partner up the driveway.
Marco had stretched a hose line alongside the house and into the backyard. He signaled to his captain that he was ready for water.
"Engine 51 Engineer, Engine 51," Stanley keyed the mic on his coat. "Charge the line!"
"Copy, Cap," Stoker's voice replied. "Water's comin'."
Flames danced up from the wooden fence on the far side of the yard and the fire had extended to a flat roof that reached over the patio. Three portable tables were set up with food and drinks on them in the middle of the yard, along with a multitude of metal folding chairs. There was asmall hole in the ground near the fence.
"We got a victim back here, Cap," Roy said as he and Johnny entered the yard.
The captain tossed aside a folding chair and keyed his mic again.
"L.A., Engine 51. Respond an ambulance to my incident if you don't have one already rolling."
The hose swelled. Marco pulled back on the nozzle and blasted the burning roof with a stream of water. Chet stepped in and picked up the length of hose behind him.
The paramedics stooped a bit as the wind blew the smoke back across the yard towards them.
"There, Johnny!" Roy called. "Beside that shed."
They knelt beside a balding man who appeared to be in his sixties. He was slumped against a metal storage shed, holding a hand to his left leg.
"Sir, can you tell me what happened?" Johnny asked as he used a pair of trauma shears to quickly slice open the man's pants leg.
"Just...a big bang and there was a...a fire and then my leg just hurt like hell…" the man said through clenched teeth. "Felt like I...I got shot…"
A jagged piece of metal about three inches long protruded from the man's thigh.
"Looks like shrapnel," Johnny said. "Man, he's lost a good amount of blood."
Roy opened the trauma box and handed a tourniquet to his partner.
"Are you having any trouble breathing, Sir?" asked Roy, clipping a pulse oximeter to the patient's index finger.
"I am...yeah…" the patient gasped. He grimaced as Johnny pulled the tourniquet tightly around his thigh.
Engine 236's crew entered the yard hauling a second hose line. They quickly directed their attack at the burning fence.
Roy checked the small readout on the oximeter.
"He's satting at 86," he said seriously. "We gotta get him to Rampart."
"Right," Johnny opened the med box. "I'll get an IV started."
Roy stood and jogged over to his captain who nodded to him.
"What've you got, Roy?"
"Cap, he's shocky. Shrapnel in his leg. Must've nicked an artery because he's lost a lot of blood. We're gonna need to transport ASAP."
Quint 116's captain led his men into the backyard. He glanced at the patient and then at Roy.
"Ambulance just pulled up," he said, turning back towards the street. "I'll send 'em through."
"I gotta...go…" the patient said, attempting to stand. "Gonna be...late for work…"
Johnny rested his hands on the man's shoulders and gently held him down.
"You're not goin' anywhere but the hospital," he said. "I need you to just sit here and rest for me, okay?"
Two paramedics from the Mayfair ambulance company entered the backyard, wearing blue helmets and wheeling a gurney.
Johnny and one of the paramedics lifted the patient onto the gurney while Roy held the IV bag. A minute later, the man was loaded into the ambulance. Johnny quickly shed his air pack and climbed inside.
The white and orange striped ambulance pulled away from the scene, siren wailing. Roy packed their gear back into the squad and followed a minute later.
XXXXXX
The fire had been knocked down within ten minutes and the operation had advanced to the overhaul process.
Captain Stanley stood on the front lawn. He slipped off his air pack and set it down on the grass, then took off his orange helmet and ran a hand over his dark hair.
The man who had flagged them down when they first arrived stood beside him.
Battalion Chief McConnike approached, white helmet in hand.
"Hank, is this the gentleman who detonated the explosive?"
"That's what he told my men, Chief," Stanley replied.
"Yes, Sir," the man sighed, shaking his head. "I'm so stupid."
"Well, what what did you do, exactly? What did you set off?"
The man heaved a sigh and folded his arms.
"I took an old metal pipe that I had and capped one end and then I welded it to a stand I made. I drilled a hole in one side for a fuse, then I put some gunpowder inside and some pink powdered food coloring on top."
"And that's it?" the chief asked.
"Uh…" the man sighed again. "Then I put some cardboard on the other end and wrapped duct tape around it."
"You didn't." McConnike said, incredulous.
"Yeah," the man stared at his feet. "We just thought it would be a fun way to do a gender reveal. I mean, I know I'm not a scientist or anything, but it seemed pretty straightforward. Just a little bang and pink powder in the air."
Stanley shook his head.
"Sir," he said calmly. "What you built was a pipe bomb. You're lucky all you lost was your fence and a corner of that roof."
"Do you need me to stay around? I really need to go to the hospital and check on my uncle."
McConnike waved over two sheriff's deputies.
"These men would like to have a word with you first."
XXXXXX
Johnny and Roy walked into the station's day room. Roy went to the kitchen while Johnny dropped down in one of the six recliners that were arranged in a semi-circle before the widescreen TV.
Chet walked in and placed an empty waste basket in the corner. He looked at Johnny who had his head propped against his fist.
"You gonna finish making lunch or what? We're famished."
"I've got it," Roy said, taking the bowl from the fridge.
Chet sat down in the recliner beside Johnny.
"How's the guy from the backyard?"
Johnny exhaled.
"Didn't make it. He crashed in the back of the rig on the way in. Trauma team tried to save him, but he'd just lost too much blood."
Chet nodded slowly.
"Sorry, Johnny."
"Me too."
"It happens, though. I know you guys did your best."
"That's what Brackett said." Johnny absentmindedly rubbed the chair's armrest with his index finger. "It's not like I've never lost a patient before as a firefighter, it's just that...it hits differently as a paramedic, you know? I was that guy's best shot at making it."
The room was silent, save for a muted commercial on the TV.
"Hey, Johnny, what'd you say this junk is, again?" Roy spoke up in an attempt to lighten the mood.
"Junk?" Johnny swiveled in his recliner to face him. "Chicken Salad a la Gage is not junk! I made that all the time when I was at 8's and the guys loved it."
Roy stared down at the bowl.
"What makes it a la Gage, exactly? It just looks like regular chicken salad to me."
"Because I add a secret ingredient that sets it apart from other chicken salads."
Chet swung around in his own recliner.
"What's the secret ingredient?"
Johnny looked at him sideways.
"Wouldn't you like to know."
"Uh yeah," Chet shrugged. "That's why I'm askin'."
The tones echoed through the station. They paused to see who the dispatch would be for.
"Engine and Boat 110, Squad 51," the dispatcher called. "Maternity. 4433 Admiralty Way, at Station 110. Copy your text for further."
Johnny pushed up from his chair and headed for the door. Roy shook his head and placed the bowl back into the refrigerator before following him.
"I'm just gonna order a pizza!" Chet called after them.
XXXXXX
Roy cut the siren as he drove the squad onto the small parking lot beside Station 110 and stopped at the end of the lot near the boat dock.
Engine 110's Captain was waiting for them as they emerged from the squad.
"L.A. said there's a woman in labor on a boat?" Roy said as he rounded the front of the squad.
"Yeah, cabin cruiser broke down about a mile and a half out," the captain replied. "The skipper says his wife's in active labor."
Johnny pulled the stokes basket, an orange, hard plastic stretcher from a rear compartment on the squad. He and Roy placed their gear inside and then followed the captain down the ramp to the dock where Boat 110, a 42-foot long fire/rescue boat was waiting.
The other two members of Engine 110 were already on board, along with the fireboat's two man crew.
The paramedics stepped aboard and the boat soon left, slicing its way through the marina with siren yelping and blue lights flashing.
Roy steadied himself against the cabin.
"How far along is she?" he called over the siren.
"Didn't say," the captain replied, standing beside the boat's pilot. "We've been trying to raise them on Channel 16, but the guy sounds kinda skittish. He's freakin' out about his wife havin' a baby. Sounds like you might have your work cut out for you."
Roy turned to Johnny.
"You're patient man this shift, remember?"
"How could I forget?" Johnny replied.
"You ready? This is your first delivery, right?"
"Yep. You didn't rig this as a final test, did you?"
Roy grinned.
"I'm a tough preceptor, but I'm not that tough."
A few minutes later, Boat 110 slowed as it approached a 36 foot long blue and white cabin cruiser.
"Dreamcatcher, Dreamcatcher, this is Fireboat 110," the second man on the boat's crew called into the marine radio. "We are approaching your port side, over."
"Oh thank God!" an excited voice replied over the radio.
A tall, thin man wearing a blue Hawaiian shirt appeared at the rear of the boat waving frantically as the fireboat slowly pulled even with the vessel.
"Here! Hurry!" he called, tossing a rope line to one of the firefighters.
Once the boats were tied together securely, the paramedics boarded the cruiser. The engine's crew handed their gear off to them.
"Where's the patient?" asked Roy.
"Down here," the man stammered, leading them down the steps into the cabin. "We wanted to just take one last trip out on the water before the baby...I mean...she's not even due until next week! And...then the damned engine died..."
"Okay, we're gonna help her," Roy said reassuringly as he and Johnny made their way through the small cabin of the boat.
They found a dark haired woman in her thirties laying on a bed near the bow of the boat, her feet propped up and breathing rapidly.
"Hi, I'm John, this is my partner, Roy," said Johnny as he placed a knee on the bed. "What's your name, ma'am?"
"Julia..." the woman answered quickly. "Oh God, I think the baby's almost here. It hurts so bad..."
"Okay, I'm just gonna take a look and see where the baby's at," Johnny lifted her dress. "Is this your first child?"
"No. I mean, yes. I miscarried last year," she replied. "I just can't...please, don't let me lose this one too, God! Please!"
"Baby's starting to crown," Johnny said. "When was your last contraction?"
"About a minute ago! It's hurts so much!"
Roy pulled a disposable underpad from the O.B. kit and gingerly slipped it under the woman, while Johnny quickly donned protective goggles and a disposable apron.
"Can't you give her anything for the pain?" asked her husband, standing near the door. "I mean, look at her, she's suffering!"
Roy shook his head.
"Sorry, it's too late for that now."
Johnny dropped to his knees at the foot of the bed.
"Julia, I only want you to push when you have a contraction, okay?"
"Okay," she sobbed. "The baby's not even due until next week. This can't be good..."
"Hey, now. Babies run on their own schedule," Roy said calmly, kneeling beside her. "Do you know what you're going to have?"
"A boy."
"You have a name picked out yet?"
"Nathan," the husband answered, still standing by the doorway. "We're gonna name him Nathan."
The woman nodded as she smiled painfully at her husband.
"After Steve's father…"
She suddenly cried out, twisting the fabric of the comforter below her with one hand and gripping Roy's shoulder with the other.
"Are you having a contraction now?" asked Johnny.
The woman nodded vigorously.
"Okay, Julia, I want you to push for me," he ordered. "Now! Bear down!"
She screamed as she pushed. Her husband closed his eyes and turned away.
"You're doing good, Julia!" said Johnny. "We're almost there."
"I don't want to have my baby on a boat!" she cried.
"At least you'll have an interesting story to tell your son about the night that he was born, right?" Roy offered.
She screamed again and gritted her teeth.
"Keep pushing, Julia, keep pushing!" Johnny said reassuringly. "He's almost out!"
He gingerly slipped his gloved hands under the baby's head as it began to emerge.
"It hurts too much!" the impending mother cried. "I can't..."
Johnny locked eyes with her.
"Yes you can! You can do this! You're stronger than you know."
"Maybe offer your wife some encouragement?" the engine's captain whispered to the husband who nodded and made his way over.
He knelt beside Johnny.
"Babe, you can do this. I know you can," he smiled, fighting back tears.
"I can't, Steven! It hurts so bad!" she sobbed.
"Yes you can."
She screamed again as her body was wracked with another contraction.
"Push! Now! One big push!" Johnny called.
The woman screamed and bore down as hard as she could. Her body shook and her face grew bright red as it contorted.
Johnny slowly pulled the baby from her and gently placed him on the bed.
"Baby's out!"
Roy pulled the bulb aspirator from the O.B. kit and handed it to his partner.
"Why isn't he crying? What's wrong?!" the woman demanded. "What's wrong?!"
"Just one second, Mom," Roy said as he watched Johnny suction out the baby's nose and mouth.
The baby broke into a healthy cry, much to the relief of everyone in the small cabin.
After clamping off and cutting the umbilical cord, Johnny placed the baby on his mother's chest. The new parents sobbed happily.
Johnny stood and slipped off his apron.
"Thank you! Thank you!" the new father said, hugging him briefly before stepping past him.
"You're welcome," Johnny flashed a smile. "Your wife did all of the hard work, though."
"You're very good at what you do, John," the new mother said to him. "I could tell I was in good hands."
Johnny nodded to Roy.
"I had a good teacher."
XXXXXX
The next morning, Johnny stood in the kitchen in a T-shirt and jeans, sipping coffee as the members of B-shift filed in and out.
"Heck of a way to finish out your training, huh?" Roy said as he walked in, also in street clothes. "O.B. case on a boat. You did fine."
"So," Johnny set down his mug. "Is it official? I passed?"
Roy poured himself a cup.
"Already filed the paperwork. You're certified. Nothing left but the ceremony. I told you there was nothing to worry about."
"Worried? I wasn't worried. I-"
"Yes you were," Chet said as he walked in, followed by Stoker, Marco, and Captain Stanley. "Understandable, though. Roy's tough. He flunked the guy before you. Dude left here in tears. Awful sight."
Johnny looked to Roy for confirmation who shrugged and sipped from his mug.
"Congratulations, Pal," the captain said. "I knew you'd make it."
"Yep," Stoker said. "You're pretty decent."
"Better than the last guy," Marco added.
"See?" Chet pointed at him as he looked at Johnny.
"Well, I'll say this," Johnny rested his hands on his hips. "I don't know if I've ever worked with a better bunch of guys. Even Chet. I'm gonna miss it here."
"About that," Stanley raised a finger.
"You know which station I'm headed to?" Johnny asked eagerly.
"I do. We all took a vote and...we'd like you to stay on here at 51's."
Johnny's face lit up.
"Really?"
Roy grinned over the rim of his coffee mug.
"I was getting tired of training new guys. And I have fun working with you, so…"
Captain Stanley clasped his hands together.
"So, can we make it official?"
"Yes Sir!" Johnny beamed. "It'd be an honor."
"I can't believe Chet voted for him," Marco said. "I guess wonders never cease."
Chet shrugged.
"I'm not ready to say goodbye to my favorite stooge just yet."
"Alright, let's get going, shall we, gentlemen?" Stanley said, motioning towards the door. "I think B-Shift would like to get their day started."
Roy shook Johnny's hand.
"Whattaya think, Junior?"
Johnny smiled.
"Guess you're stuck with me, pally."
END
This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual person, places, or organizations is purely coincidental. All firefighting and medical information may not be accurate.