Mudslide
These good fellows don't belong to me, but I promise when I'm done to pick um up, dust um off, and with a kiss on the cheek, return them safely home.
The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.
Rober Burns
CHAPTER 2
Once outside, they groaned that the pouring rain had returned. The small weather break was over, and the ride was focused on traveling the water-logged roads. Despite the storm, the streets continued to be busy, and not everyone took the driving conditions seriously.
"With people driving like these, we'll never get a break today," Johnny grumbled.
Moving slightly out of the city, they found themselves on the outskirts of town with pastureland on both sides of the highway. Johnny pointed out the address, and they turned down the long driveway, taking in what seemed to be miles of beautiful farmland, a striking contrast to the nearby sprawling city. Ahead of them stood a white farmhouse with a large red barn to the left and smaller sheds and animal pens dotted in between.
Johnny raised his brow. "Nice."
Roy knew it was Johnny's dream to own a farm or ranch one day, though he wasn't sure if he had considered all the work that came with it. "Full-time job, Junior."
He scoffed back. "They're called farm hands, Roy."
Pulling up to the house, Roy parked in the gravel area and pointed to the figure standing on the front porch, out of the rain. The young boy appeared to be around fourteen, tall and lanky, waiting patiently for the men to approach.
"Someone's hurt?" Johnny asked him, a little unsure since the kid appeared nonplussed.
"Yes, Sir. It's my dad. He was installing a new gate out back and got his arm caught in the gate. He needs help getting it out."
"Okay," Roy answered, looking around.
"Just follow me," the boy said, pointing to a truck.
Loaded back up, they followed the old, beat-up Chevy around the back of the house, finding a large, sheltered pen in the back pasture.
"On no," Johnny groaned.
Pigs. The pen was full of pigs. They could see the farmer standing outside the metal pen beside the gate with his arm pushed inside, now pinned in place.
"LA County Fire Department," Roy announced. "I'm Roy, and this is my partner, Johnny."
The man was calm and appeared just to be patiently waiting. "Al, my son, Scott."
"What happened?" Johnny asked, trying to understand the predicament the man found himself in.
"Damn new-fangled equipment. Trying to replace this gate with this automatic locking one, the contraption went haywire and caught me in the middle."
Right away, they could see blood where the arm was caught in the gate. A lot of blood ran down the metal and pooled on the ground. Roy leaned over the fencing to assess his hand, reaching for a pulse with concern at how pale it was. The fit was extremely tight, end pole, flesh, gate, with no wiggle room at all.
"It's locked?" Johnny asked, reaching for the gate. "Can it be moved at all?"
That got the father's attention. "NO!" He barked. "It's through me."
Roy furrowed his brow. "What's through you? A piece of the gate?" He just couldn't see; the man's arm was so tightly compressed.
Scott hopped over the fence into the pen. "You can see it from here."
Johnny looked at Roy. "Senior medic, I think this situation calls for your expertise," he quickly notified him.
Rolling his eyes, Roy climbed up and hopped into the pig pen. With the father outside the pen, he could now see the gate mechanism. "The bolt went right through."
Al just raised his brow in a, told you so, expression. Roy had two primary concerns: first, blood loss. Had a major artery been damaged? Second, the pallor of the trapped hand indicated poor blood flow. He described what he was seeing to Johnny.
"The electronics are here," he said, pointing to the bolted box on his side. "Best bet is to see if there's a safety release; if not, we'll have to cut the wires." He paused for a second to see if the farmer would protest the destruction of brand-new equipment. Nothing. "Johnny, grab the toolbox."
With the deluge of water now coming down on them, Roy could see the father was getting tired and most likely weak with the blood loss. He glanced around for something to allow him to sit down. "Scott, grab that for your dad to sit on," he said, pointing to the large wooden barrel.
Johnny passed Roy the toolbox and helped Al get seated. Immediately, his total weight went onto the gate, causing him to grimace with pain. Roy grabbed the screwdriver and began working on releasing the numerous screws holding on the plate of metal.
"Scott," he called to his son.
"Dad?"
"Go out to the barn and check on the horses; make sure they have clean hay for the night. Put Sadie in her back stall. This thunder easily spooks her."
"Yes, Sir." He nodded and headed to the truck.
Looking over at Johnny, Al shook his head. "Don't need the boy seeing this."
Seeing his father's situation, Johnny thought the kid was doing amazingly well.
Once the electronics were exposed, Roy could not locate an emergency release. Grabbing the wire cutters, he snipped the power supply and was ready to remove the bolt mechanism from the box by hand. "Okay, all I have to do is pull it out now." He knew this was going to be painful for the man.
Johnny put the biophone down and waited by the gate. Keeping his eye on the father, he noted he was still alert and steady. "Here we go," he told him.
Al nodded and steadied himself for the expected pain. The large bolt was approximately six inches long and rested right through the middle of the lower arm. Roy grabbed the end and began to pull it out. What neither man expected from the stoic farmer was the scream of agony and sudden thrashing that ensued.
Johnny tried to grab the man, not prepared for the six-foot, two-hundred-pound farmer powerhouse that pushed him back until he hit the ground. Roy removed the bolt and was moving to catch the man, who immediately pushed the gate open to release his arm, slamming Roy to the ground.
"AAAHHHRRRGGG!"
Johnny was back on his feet and moved in front of Al, noticing the profuse bleeding from the wound. "Do you want your son to see that?"
His question caught Al off guard, who pulled the arm to his body.
"Look at it," Johnny told him, seeing the man calming down quickly. "We need to stop that bleeding before you pass out."
Looking up, Al could see his son heading back to the pen. He nodded at Johnny. "I'm sorry, son. I wasn't expecting it to be like that."
Roy was now on his feet. "It's all right. Let's get it bandaged."
"Squad 51 to Rampart, do you read."
Go ahead 51.
"Rampart, the patient is now released. The distal pulse remains weak, with pallor from the wrist to the fingers. Rampart, the arm appears to be fractured. Pressure dressing applied but moderate blood loss."
51 start an IV of D5 LR at 100 and transport immediately.
"IV and transport. 10-4."
Johnny wrapped up the arm and shook his head at Roy. "Man, you are not riding in the Squad with me now."
Scott was standing with his father now and couldn't help but smile.
"Son, you're in charge until mom gets home."
"Yes, Sir."
"Make sure you feed your sister and get the chickens in before dark when the worst of the storm is supposed to hit."
"Yes, Sir."
"I'll be okay, Scott."
The son smiled. "Don't worry, Dad. We'll be okay."
"Run on now," he told the boy.
Roy was honestly very impressed. "Fine, son, you have there."
"He is," he replied, then smiled. "Can't take credit; that would be his mom."
Roy smiled. Yes, those mothers could be pretty amazing.
The farmer stepped into the ambulance, and Roy passed Johnny the trauma box. "See you there."
"You need to wait outside the ER," he said with a very serious tone. "Dixie will have your hide if you come in like that."
There was no argument with that statement. He looked up at the sky. "Maybe it will all be washed off by the time I get there."
"Where's your partner?"
"Banished to the outside this trip."
Dixie raised her brow. "What did he do to deserve such banishment?"
"Rolled around in a pig pen," he said, then smiled.
She returned the smile. "Poor Roy. It's been a rough shift."
"Shower number three is coming up," he chuckled.
Brackett came out of the patient's room.
"How's the arm looking, doc?"
"Impaled by a metal rod. It shattered the ulna and caused some nerve damage. Joe's taking him to surgery now to try and repair it. Dix, can you get radiology to do two more views of the arm?"
"Sure, Kel," she replied and headed to the phone.
"You look like my sister's dog," Roy told him.
Johnny was leaning out the window, trying to get fresh air. "Man, we will never get this Squad clean again." His nose wrinkled, and his disgust was directed right at his partner.
"Not my fault. That gate hit me and…"
"What?"
"Well, I didn't trip over my own feet," Roy chided him.
"You're okay?" He pointed at him.
Roy started to answer but was immediately interrupted.
"Fine. I know you're fine."
He smiled. Junior was learning. The two-man team usually kept close tabs on each other's safety and health; it was vital. Roy didn't complain when his brother and workmate voiced concern—well, most of the time, he didn't complain.
"Oh, Roy," Hank exclaimed, crinkling his nose. "Put yourself 10-8 until that is gone."
"Ole DeSoto had a farm, e-i-e-i-o," Chet sang, then laughed.
Mike shook his head in empathy but couldn't hold back the smile; then he noticed Hank motioning to him.
"Funny, Chet, very funny," he mumbled as he headed to the shower.
Johnny was now laughing at his brother. "You should have seen it, Chet. Flat on his back in the muck." The visualization kept him laughing until he turned around and found Hank standing behind him, holding cleaner and rags.
"Come on, Cap. I didn't make this mess."
"There's no I in team, Gage."
"Yes, Sir." It wasn't even his mess. Three layers of mud and pig muck. Grumbling, he climbed into the rig. "Not fair."
"Johnny boy," Chet sneered, "think of it as a job opportunity; every farmer needs a farm hand."
Johnny whipped his head around. "Go away, Chet." He growled.
"Fine, fine," Chet moved back into the dayroom, arms in the air. "I'll bring you some air freshener."
Johnny was finishing up the truck when Roy emerged, freshly showered. "Nice shower?" His tone was clearly sarcastic.
"Very relaxing, thanks," he teased back. Stepping to the podium, he picked up the radio. "Rescue 51, available."
"Johnny, phone," Marco called from the kitchen.
In the kitchen, Roy picked up the chopping board of onion and sat down at the table to help prepare dinner. Once Johnny was off the phone, he sat down with him.
"You are not going to believe who that was!"
Roy waited. "Am I supposed to guess?"
He scoffed. "You'd never guess. You remember that lady, Melinda, from last week? You know, the one that got overheated in the haywire hot tub?"
Chet was now listening intently.
"Yeah," Roy replied.
"Well, that was her!" Clearly, Johnny was very excited by the phone call. He scooted up his chair. "So, she has this house down in Del Mar, right on the beach. Like, walk out the door and step on the beach. And she's having a get-together this weekend." Leaning back, he pursed his lips together. "She wants me to stay there for the weekend."
"Johnny, she was really hot," Marco added.
He grinned like Santa at Christmas. "Yeah, she was, Marco."
"Sounds like a really great weekend, Junior," Roy told him.
"Doesn't it?!" He clapped his hands together. "She told me to head that way as soon as I was ready after shift." Standing up, hands went to his hips. "I've got to pack a bag, and I'll have to run by the store; told her I'd bring some snacks."
Roy just nodded as Johnny wandered to the couch, muttering to himself.
Chet scooted closer. "Sounds like a nice beach happening going on."
"Sorry, Chet. The only plus one on this invite is me."
"I see how it is," Chet nodded slowly.
Johnny grinned. "No Chet, I will be seeing how it is."
Marco laughed.
STATION 51, CAR OFF THE EMBANKMENT, ALAMEDA CANYON, FIRE ROAD 42, NO PRECISE LOCATION, ESTIMATED AT MILE MARKER 14, TIME OUT 1826
Hank responded as everyone ran into the bay. "Station 51, KMG 365."
"Can't believe this day," Johnny complained, looking at the dark, threatening sky. "It better be done by tomorrow."
"That would put a damper on things," Roy told him.
"I know!"
With dark approaching and the storm continuing, the temperature was cooling down for the evening. Rush hour was hectic as the emergency vehicles struggled to get through intersections, horns blaring and lights reflecting off the wet roads.
"Come on," Johnny complained as his hand waved for the little green sedan before them to get out of the way. "Go home, it's raining."
Roy focused on the road, even though he also felt frustrated with other drivers seeming oblivious to their presence. Once out of the busy city, they headed up in elevation, where the roads started to become more hazardous. The fire road was open access to cross the mountains, primarily created for emergency access. However, city drivers would drive it for the view or to avoid the city congestion.
The intense wind blew debris across the narrow mountain road, littering it with branches, thick mud, and rocks of all sizes. In weather like this, "road" was a loose term at best.
"Why would anyone be up here on a day like today?" Johnny complained. He was sitting on the edge of the truck seat, trying to see enough to alert Roy to road hazards.
Roy didn't answer the question, which clearly wasn't waiting for one. Johnny was still complaining.
"If we get stuck up here tonight," he trailed off, "passenger rock."
Roy adjusted to avoid the obstacle. He didn't have time to complain since every ounce of his attention was on keeping the Squad on the road and thus keeping them alive.
"TREE!" Johnny pointed at the road.
"I see it," Roy replied calmly.
Johnny kept looking to his side and watching the flooding waters cascade down, full of mud, rock, and debris. He knew that they were in a dangerous situation where a mudslide could sweep them away in a heartbeat. Focusing on the road ahead, he pushed that thought out of his mind. This wasn't the place to get distracted, and according to a mystery caller, there was a car off the road somewhere on this mountainside. Rain pounded on the windshield as Roy pulled the rig over to the right side of the road. Here, the hillside portion of the road appeared more stable, with less water flowing across it. Reaching up, he wiped the moisture from inside the cab windshield.
"Let's check it out," Roy said, pointing to the debris in the road that didn't seem natural.
Johnny nodded, pulling his coat closer and putting on his helmet. From this elevation, the city seemed to have a fog settling over it, but the sky was full of lightning, putting on a spectacular show for the crew. The following booms of thunder could often be felt in their bones. Behind them, the Fire truck pulled up and parked, with the four men jumping out and landing in large mud puddles. No one complained. They were already used to getting soaked through today. Chet, Marco, and Mike moved to the front of the truck to join their Captain. Walking forward, they discovered the debris was nothing more than an old tire covered in branches and mud. However, what could be seen beyond was daunting.
"This is as far as we go," Hank announced. "Gear up, and we'll move ahead on foot. Kelly and Lopez, load up the stokes and grab rope."
Johnny and Roy grabbed the medical trauma boxes and followed the engine crew into the gradually darkening night.
"Finding anyone in this mess is going to be a miracle," Johnny told Roy.
"We know where the car lights were estimated; let's just hope they're where they're supposed to be," Roy replied.
The landslide blocking the road mainly consisted of large rocks and some downed trees—items too large to be cleared without heavy equipment. Once they made their way over the obstacles, they began to move faster, scanning the downhill side of the graveled road in search of any sign of a car in trouble. Visibility disappeared fast as the fog started moving in, and rainfall hampered their visual field.
"I can't see a thing," Marco said to no one in particular.
"Look for tire tracks and broken brush," Hank told them. "Unusual, cleared sections of brush."
"Did you hear that?" Chet asked.
Everyone stopped in their tracks and listened to the howling wind, breath held in anticipation.
Then they heard it, a faint cry for help.
Feet now moved faster, homing in on the voice until Johnny located the overturned yellow car in the distance. "There!"
Roy quickly estimated how far down it was and what equipment would be needed. "We'll need to approach it from the front; looks pretty unstable," he told Hank.
The captain agreed. "Gear up. Chet and Marco, let's get the car stabilized."
When Johnny and Roy were secure in their repelling gear, they confirmed everyone was ready before stepping off the ledge. With a quick glance at his partner, Roy descended the incline. A typical repelling was now treacherous with wet, slick ground and rivulets of water pouring down around them. When Johnny slipped, Roy instantly gripped his sleeve, slowing his progress.
"Thanks," Johnny told him, his eyes wide from the near-disastrous fall. "Look."
The car below them had flipped upside down, precariously resting on a rock ledge. Their first view didn't reveal the victim, although they could hear him yelling. Reaching approximately one hundred feet down, Roy reached out for the car, testing his weight against it for stability.
"Feels pretty solid," he called out to Chet.
Johnny headed towards the rear of the car, as Marco and Chet began tying ropes to decrease the likelihood of the vehicle moving and taking anyone over the edge. Once Johnny was around the back, he could see the man's upper body lying in the busted-out rear window. The middle-aged man was alert and very anxious, bordering on frantic.
"Help me!" His hands began grabbing at Johnny's legs.
The medic crouched beside him, keeping one hand on the car's frame. "Easy, easy. We're here to help you. I need you to calm down for me."
The first assessment was visual, observing the man's placement in the car and for any obvious trauma that would affect the rescue attempt. He was covered in so much mud that it was difficult to assess for surface injuries like cuts and bruising, including the condition of his back and legs.
"Get me out of here! I've got to get out of here!" His cries bordered on demanding tone.
Roy joined him on the other side of the man, realizing that both medics were holding onto a very small remaining ledge. "Can you tell me where you're hurting?"
"My arm and my leg, we've got to get out of here! Why are you just sitting there!"
Johnny knew extraction would be safer and more comfortable for the man if he relaxed. "I'm Johnny; this is Roy. What's your name?"
"Earl, Earl Jennings," he huffed.
"Okay, Mr. Jennings, we're going to check you for injuries so we can get you out of the car safely," Roy reassured him. He looked at Johnny. "The right elbow looks dislocated. I don't think it's fractured."
He pulled out supplies to check vital signs.
Johnny cautiously leaned into the car to assess his legs for entrapment. "Nothing seems broken, and he seems clear." He smiled at the man to try to relax him. "Can you move your legs?"
"I think so, yes. Now, GET ME OUT OF HERE!"
"Okay, just calm down, Sir. You're going to be okay. We'll take you up to the road as soon as we secure the car from moving."
"I'm not okay! I'm hurt, and I'm going to die if you don't get me out of here!"
Johnny glanced at Roy, partly for reassurance that he wasn't missing something medical and partly for just plain old reassurance.
Roy kept his voice calm and in control. "We'll move you as soon as possible, Mr. Jennings. We want to do it safely."
The man remained very restless and agitated. "This is NOT acceptable! I want your names!"
"Pulse is ninety; blood pressure is one fifty over eighty, respirations are 16. I'll call it in."
The numbers were normal, which was reassuring, along with his exam.
"Chet, let's get the stokes down here."
The lineman nodded, being privy to the man's nonstop complaining and threats to call supervisors, demanding action.
"51 to Rampart, do you read?"
Read you 51. Go ahead.
"Rampart, we have a male victim of an auto accident with rollover. He is alert and conscious, complaining of extreme pain. Vitals are pulse ninety, pressure is one-fifty over eighty, respirations are eleven. He has a dislocated right elbow vs fracture; otherwise, only bruises and minor cuts."
Brackett furrowed his brow. 51. Can you clarify his pain level?
The man beside him remained very verbal about his pain level.
"Patient describes it as extreme, Rampart. Patient is also anxious."
Understood 51. Start an IV with ringers at one hundred, stabilize the fracture, and transport. If pain remains a concern, give five of Morphine.
"10-4, Rampart. IV at one hundred, splint and transport, five of Morphine if needed. Rampart, we are still in the process of extrication."
Keep an eye on vitals and report any changes.
"10-4, Rampart."
Johnny started the man's IV while Roy put a splint on his elbow. Despite constant reassurances, the man was convinced he was going to die on the side of that mountain on this dark and gloomy night.
"Leaving me here in pain! I can't believe you two! Get me out of here! This is the worst treatment I've ever experienced!"
Roy focused on completing the tasks while watching his partner, knowing the rising frustration could get to them both. Both men were professionals with challenging patients, but it had been a very long and exhausting day. Finishing up, Roy saw Chet moving beside them with the stokes for transport.
"We're going to move you over to this, then up to the road."
"It's about time. I'm in pain here!" The man said with renewed vigor.
Roy nodded. "I'm giving you a dose of Morphine now to help with the pain."
Not soon enough, Johnny thought to himself.
With the patient loaded up, they began the slow ascent to the road.
"When I get up there, I demand to know who's in charge of this farce of a rescue!"
Chet just nodded. "That would be the captain, sir."
"Well, he's going to hear from me!"
Smiling behind his coat collar, the lineman nodded. "Yes, sir."
Once everyone was safely back on the road, Hank pulled the two medics over.
"We have a problem." Hank started, motioning around the corner to the Engine. "More debris has come down. We'll have to wait until the road is cleared."
Johnny's eyes got wide. "The ambulance is over there, right?" He indicated towards the direction they had come from.
Hank shook his head. "Can't get through. They're sitting down at the split, and that's as close as they will get for now."
Johnny's hands went to his hips. "Cap, that's five miles down the road."
Pressing his brow together, the captain took a breath. "How's he?" He asked, pointing to the sleeping man.
"Morphine. He's stable with just minor injuries. How long do we think?" Roy answered.
Hank picked up the radio and called in for an update. They all heard the reply to expect at least another half hour before the big equipment could arrive and begin to clear the roadway.
Roy shook his head in the relentless rain. "We need to get him out of this."
"What if we set up some shelter here?" Johnny offered.
Hank shook his head, not liking being this far from his equipment. "Let's get him moved back by the Engine, and we'll wait there."
The men nodded and gathered up to move out. Their patient remained quiet while navigating the roadblock and back to the trucks, the sedation finally kicking in and calming his nerves. At the trucks, Marco and Chet pulled out a large tarp and began to secure it between the vehicles to offer shelter for the patient.
Roy knelt to recheck his vital signs, content that his patient remained stable. And quiet.
"What's going on?" Jennings mumbled.
"You're okay; we're just waiting for the ambulance. Try and rest," Roy told him, tucking the blanket back in.
"My car?" The man didn't even open his eyes, his voice drowsy.
"They'll get your car out in the next few days." He looked out to the persistent storm. "As soon as they can get back up here."
Roy was trying to keep the conversation short, hoping the man could go back to sleep.
"Not my fault," he muttered.
"No one's fault," Roy reassured him. "Mother Nature isn't being very nice tonight. Try and get some rest."
"Car."
The man was so groggy he almost didn't answer him. "They'll recover it."
"Her fault."
His head snapped back to the man lying before him. "What?"
He was asleep again.
Johnny walked over and knelt. "How's he doing?"
Roy rubbed the man's shoulder, "Mr. Jennings?"
No response.
He rubbed harder into his shoulder. "Mr. Jennings, I need you to wake up!"
Johnny was concerned at the sudden urgency in his partner. "Roy?"
The man's eyes fluttered open. "What?"
Roy leaned in close. "Mr. Jennings, you said it was her fault. Who were you talking about?"
Johnny's eyes grew big. "What?!"
"Hmmm…" The patient muttered. "Why am I still here? Why aren't we leaving?"
Roy ignored his questions, fighting back the rising panic. "Mr. Jennings. Is there someone else down there?!" The man was trying to push him away. "Mr. Jennings!" He called out more forcefully.
"She stopped."
"She was in front of you?"
He looked over to Roy. "She was."
Roy was on his feet immediately. "CAP!"
Hank jogged over, knowing the tone of his medic's voice. Something was wrong.
Standing up, Roy met him. "Cap, we've got another car down there."
The captain's eyes widened. He called back to the other men. "Chet, Marco, grab another stokes and gear; we have another missing driver. Mike, you stay with the patient and radio if anything changes."
"Sure, Cap," Mike answered, radio in hand.
"Let's go."
Johnny moved quietly beside Roy, with Chet and the others moving just behind them as they worked their way back across the unstable rocky roadblock. The sense of urgency was palpable, but so was the need to reach the next victim safely.
"How far?" Johnny asked him when they reached the descent point of the man's car.
Roy shrugged in the dark. "We have nothing to go on except there was another car in front of him." Pausing, he shone his light ahead of them. "Let's keep going forward, at least few feet, and go from there."
Johnny nodded and let his partner lead the way. Flashing his light down to Jennings's car, they proceeded along the road edge.
"I can't see a thing," Chet grumbled, wiping the pouring rain from his forehead without success.
"Spread out, let's try to cover as much ground as possible," Hank told them. "But be careful; the ground isn't stable."
Eyes scanned below them, struggling to see into the foggy darkness while also keeping a close eye on each other. After about twenty minutes, they were tired, and frustration was rising. Johnny's sense of worry was rising. What if they didn't find her in time? What if they didn't find her at all? Could she last until sunup?
"Roy?"
The older medic just shook his head, refusing to stop. "Let's backtrack from here."
The others accepted his directions without question, knowing they could not leave until she was found. Another twenty minutes in, Hank called them all back together.
"I don't think we'll get anything else done until daylight." The risk of losing a man in the dangerous conditions outweighed the risk of searching blind.
Roy's jaw was clamped down; if anyone could see it in the dark, it was his best friend.
"Roy, we can't see anything in this," Johnny said quietly.
"I'm not giving up."
"This isn't giving up, we'll be back."
It didn't set well, not well at all. The thought of her alone down there, wondering if anyone would find her. Was she conscious? How bad was she hurt? Were her cries going unanswered?
The others didn't speak out, though their hearts lined with the medics. But following the captain's command kept them all safe on this mountainside and they understood that. Johnny stuck close to Roy, noting the slow steps, closer to the edge, and the relentless searching of his flashlight beams. The younger man didn't speak or push his partner to move faster or stop hunting. He knew it wouldn't make any difference. Roy was not a man to give up on a rescue.
When he spoke, Johnny nearly jumped.
"THERE!"
Johnny followed his light beam and saw the tiny reflection in the darkness beyond. It had found something metallic, and further down than Jennings car.
"CAP!" Johnny called out while watching Roy. "Hold on, partner, let's do this right."
Roy hesitated with a glance back to Johnny, nodding in agreement. The visible sigh of relief might have been comical in other circumstances, but right now he was focused on the task at hand. With the others regrouped, they quickly formed a plan, then helped the medics and Chet gear up for the deep drop-down. There was a stark contrast in sounds, or a lack thereof, from below.
The ground here had fewer footholds, causing the men to slip and slide more often. The treacherous footing slowed the descent until they were barely moving at all.
"Damn," Johnny grumbled as he fell once more, catching a rock with his knee and tearing his pants.
Roy stopped, concerned. "You, okay?"
"Yeah, let's just get to her."
The others knew that was the end of the conversation. As they moved closer to the car, they could now see it was sitting on all four wheels, as if it had just been placed there purposefully. Only the crumpled roof indicated something else had happened. And the ominous silence continued.
Now, all three men stood just above the car. A space only a few inches wide between the passenger side and the mountain wall blocked access to those doors.
"What do you think?" Chet asked.
"We need to see how stable it is," Roy started. "I can't see how much space is on the other side either."
No one could. It could be a straight drop to the bottle for all they knew.
"Let's get a line down here and tie it off there," Roy said, pointing to the shattered door windows.
Chet nodded and called into the radio for supplies.
"Hello?!" Johnny called into the car. "Can anyone hear me?"
There was no reply. The angle made it difficult to see the car well, but no one was visible at this point. When the extra rope came down, Johnny slid down, looped the rope through the car doors, tied it off, and tugged to have the men above ensure the other end was well secured.
With a glance back at Roy, he gently moved to the car's hood, testing his weight and the stability of the hunk of metal below him.
Roy watched the car rock gently. "Easy, Johnny."
Checking the other side, he found there was no ground between the driver's tire and the descending cliff. Leaning further, he looked for tire placement.
Roy was biting his lip.
"There's nothing on this side, Roy, and the rear tire is over the edge."
Next, he leaned towards the front windshield, finding it shattered, with splintered glass making it impossible to see through to the inside. Looking up, he shook his head to the others. "Can't see anything."
"Can you get in from the driver's side?" Roy asked him.
That window was intact, in addition to the gentle rock of the car when he moved too close to the edge, was a hard no for Johnny. He shook his head.
"Stay on this side," Roy told him.
"Roy, we can take the windshield out," Chet told him.
"Johnny, stay there," Roy told him. He put his hand up with exasperation. If that kid didn't stop moving everywhere.
Johnny let a small smile out, seeing Roy's expression. "I'm not moving."
Roy began his move to the car, his goal the front passenger window. Sliding onto the roof, he rolled onto his stomach and looked over the edge. Brushing away the broken glass along the top edge gave him enough room to lean into the window more. It took only a second to see the body lying in the floorboard of the front seat.
"I can see her," Roy called out.
She was on her back, her head closer to him, on the passenger side, her legs not visible at his angle. He almost gasped as she blinked at the bright light.
"Hello," he said softly. "Can you hear me?"
She nodded slightly. "I'm really glad to see you guys." Then she smiled.
Johnny was watching Roy closely, trying to gauge their patient's condition. When his friend looked up, the smile on his face said it all.
"Are you hurt?" He asked her.
"I don't think so, but my leg is stuck, and I couldn't get out."
He nodded. "Just stay still. We'll get you out of here."
Quickly, Chet had a tarp sent down, then helped Roy push a tarp through the window.
"Put this over your head; it'll keep the glass off of you," Roy told her.
"Okay," she answered him.
"Hey, what's your name? I'm Chet, and this here is Roy," Chet asked her.
"Cindy Raven," she answered.
"We're going to get you out of here, Cindy, don't worry."
"Okay."
Johnny took the pry bar and began peeling back the shattered windshield, tossing it to the side and listening to it fall into the darkness below. It was just another reminder of how close they were to the edge. Clearing the edges of residual glass shards, he leaned into the car beside the steering wheel. Carefully, he slid into the front seat to get a better view to assess her.
"Hello there," he said with a big grin. "I'm Johnny."
"Cindy," she replied. "What brings you out on a night like this?" She laughed. "Oh, wait, me."
He chuckled. "It's what we do. Now, let's get you back up to solid ground."
Using his flashlight, he began to determine her precarious position. Reaching under the crumpled dash, he could feel where her foot was entangled in the plastic molding. "Does that hurt?"
She shook her head. "It doesn't hurt, just feels stuck. I can feel you pulling on it."
"Roy, I'm gonna need something to cut through this dash and free her foot up."
"Cindy, are you hurting anywhere else?" Roy asked her.
She shook her head again. "No. I would have tried to climb out myself if it wasn't for my foot being trapped." She shrugged and smiled. "Well, that and pure fear every time the car groaned."
Everyone nodded at that.
"We've secured it," Johnny reassured her. So, let's work on getting this foot free."
While they waited, Johnny checked her pulse and breathing and did a brief exam for other injuries.
"No pain here," he asked, checking her head and neck. "Here?" he asked, palpating down her back and across her ribs, then abdomen. He got negative affirmations as he checked her arms and legs, and he found it amazing that she wasn't hurt.
"Roy, pulse is 80, respirations 16. And believe it or not, there's not a scratch on her."
"Miracle," Chet whispered.
Roy looked up and agreed. "Now, let's just get us out of here."
The stokes dropped down beside them, along with some heavy-duty cutters for Johnny to loosen the dash around her leg. It took some manipulation, but soon, her foot was free, and he could examine it closer.
"I'll be right back," he told her.
She grabbed his turn out. "You won't go far?"
He smiled warmly at her. "Nope. Right there to hood so Roy and I can decide on the best way to get you out safely."
"Okay."
Crawling back outside onto the hood, he leaned over it to Roy.
"I can't find anything wrong with her. How do you want to move her out of this?"
Roy understood the caution and concern. She could have hidden injuries she wasn't feeling due to shock and the cold temperatures. "Let's see how she handles coming out from the front. We'll take her up in the stokes. If she seems uncomfortable at all, we'll stop and immobilize her."
Johnny agreed. Crawling back into the seat, he updated her on the plan. It was a little disconcerting to him that she hadn't moved at all, although she was free and unhurt.
"Ready to get out of here?"
"The car might fall."
For the first time, he heard true fear in her voice.
"Cindy, we have the car secured, and it's not going anywhere when we move you out of it. Roy's right there, and Chet is just over there. You let us worry about that part, okay?"
"Okay," she replied after some hesitation, even though she didn't sound very convinced.
"Now, your job is to let us know if anything hurts at any time, alright?"
She nodded, still with eyes full of fear.
"Promise? Don't be strong and hide any pain. It's important for us to know if anything is hurting you."
"I'll tell you."
Johnny smiled and nodded to Roy. "We're ready."
He shifted his position, making room for her to sit beside him. "Let's start with just having you sit up a bit." His hand reached out to hers. "Easy does it."
She slowly sat up, moved her legs around, and inched her up to the seat.
"How's that feel?"
"Okay. I'm a little stiff from laying there so long," she replied.
"But no pain?" Roy asked her.
"No pain."
Roy moved to the hood and helped her crawl out of the car until she sat on the hood with him and Johnny. Roy was watching her like a hawk. She caught his gaze and patted his arm.
"I'm good."
He shook his head. "I see that." Motioning to the stokes, "Now just lay down here."
Again, she looked wary. "I can walk."
Roy was shaking his head. "The way up is steep, rocky, and a mess. I want you secure and safe as we get you up there."
She looked back to Johnny, who just nodded in agreement with his partner. "Enjoy the ride."
She rolled her eyes at them. "Enjoy the ride, they say."
Chet laughed. "We only charge extra for the scenic view during daylight hours."
Climbing into the stokes, she laid down. "I'm surrounded by comedians."
Chet wasn't going to let that one go. "At least someone appreciates my humor."
"Victims don't count, Chet," Johnny snapped back.
"Oh, please don't call me a victim; that's too depressing sounding."
"See, Johnny, you're just bringing her down."
Cindy laughed. "Can we debate this out of the rain?"
Roy tucked a blanket around her, although she was already soaking wet. "Just try and relax. We'll have you top side in just a few minutes."
With a radio to the men above, they secured the ropes and started their ascent. She remained quiet but was awake each time one of the medics looked down to check on her. Surrounded by reassuring smiles, she stayed relaxed during the bumpy ride uphill.
At the top, Hank and Marco helped them back to solid ground.
"Bad?" Hank quietly asked Roy.
Roy almost smiled. "Amazingly stable."
Hank smiled back. "Good. Now, let's get back to some shelter."
They returned to the Engine without pausing, where Mike was trying to calm the other patient. Johnny looked at Roy, hearing the man yelling at the Engineer.
"I'll go check on him," Roy told him. "Call her in, and let's see how long this is going to take."
Johnny nodded, then looked down.
"How are you feeling?"
"Good, worn out from all the excitement, but nothing hurts."
"Pretty amazing, you know."
"I know," she said quietly. "Pretty scary, too."
He put the blood pressure cuff back on her arm. "Well, you're safe now."
She looked around as he collected her vital signs. "Is he okay?"
Johnny glanced at the very energetic and vocal man lying in the other stokes. "He'll be fine."
"Why did we stop here? What is this?"
"The road still has some debris on it. They're clearing it off for us now." He saw her shiver. "Let me get you a dry blanket."
"Thank you, Johnny."
He smiled at her calm voice. "Sure thing. Be right back."
Chet knelt beside her. "How ya doing?"
"Pretty good, I'd say. I've never been so glad to see someone surprise me in the dark."
Chet laughed. "Well, we do tend to just show up places. Bet that was pretty scary."
"The guy behind me kept honking the horn. I mean, I get it. He couldn't see the roadblock in front of me, but I also couldn't get turned around. I was about to get out and ask him to back up, then there was this big rumble, and I felt something hit the car and push me over the side."
"Well, lucky that ledge was waiting on you." Chet also knew that if she had been standing by the cars, they would have killed her.
"Yeah, I'm not sure I will ever want to know what was on the other side," she grinned.
Chet ran his fingers across his lips. "Secret is safe with me."
Johnny reappeared with a couple of dry blankets and passed one to Chet. "This will help some."
"How's the road looking?" Chet asked him.
"The crews are up there now clearing it. Shouldn't be much longer." He looked down at her. "Hang in there."
She shrugged under the blankets. "I'm not going anywhere."
Johnny got up and joined Roy over by the engine with the others.
"How's she doing?" Roy asked him.
"Pressure is 120 over 70; pulse is 70. No complaints."
Roy still couldn't believe it. "What's the road looking like?"
Hank put the handy-talkie away and turned to them. "They clear the road, and more slides down; this may take a while. Are they okay to wait?"
Roy nodded. "Stable, minor injuries."
Johnny shrugged. "I guess we wait."
"I'm not paying you to leave me here in the rain and cold. I demand to be gotten out of here!"
Roy let out a sigh.
"More Morphine?" Johnny chuckled.
"I'll go. Keep an eye on her."
Johnny nodded, and the men separated.
"Mr. Jacobs, are you in pain?" Roy asked him patiently.
"My whole-body hurts!"
"Your vital signs are stable, and we are working on clearing the road now." This was his mantra, which he kept repeating to the anxious and angry man.
The man huffed and was quiet again.
Standing up, Roy wandered over to Johnny and Chet, who were both laughing at the conversation.
"Maybe I should send you over to keep my patient entertained."
Johnny stopped laughing immediately, making Chet chuckle again.
"I'm not saying a word," Chet quickly replied.
"Therapeutic interventions," Cindy told him with a raised brow.
"Uh huh," Roy said with a small smile.
"Chet," Hank called for him.
"Coming, Cap."
The medics watched the other men head towards the engine, grabbing shovels.
"I'll go see what's going on," Johnny told him.
Chet and Marco were sent to work on the road clearing from their side. Meanwhile, the rain poured and the wind whipped around them. Roy watched his patient drift off to sleep, and after a quiet check on her vital signs, he stood up and checked on the gentleman.
"Is she hurt?" The man asked quietly.
"Amazingly, she isn't."
"I never wanted her to get hurt."
"It was an accident. The roads are a mess today all over."
The man nodded but remained quiet.
Roy stood up and joined the others who had regrouped by the engine. "Well?" He asked Johnny.
"It's like digging in quicksand."
"No progress?" Roy felt a tiny spark of concern growing.
"Not from our side. They're bringing in big equipment from the other direction. Won't take them long with that stuff."
That was good news.
She woke up and felt uncomfortable. The metal stokes were meant for short-term use, not laying in for hours, and her body was feeling increasingly sore from the accident. She bent her legs up, then stretched them out again without much relief. An attempt at shifting her hips seemed to help with the stiffness in her back, but she still felt…restless. Looking around, she could see the firemen gathered around the engine, again. They were muddy, soaking wet, and looked exhausted. She felt bad for them and figured the best she could do was to leave them alone so they could do their job. Closing her eyes, she tried to calm the rising feeling of anxiety that simmered in her stomach. What was she worried about? She wasn't alone out here. She was out of the car and safe. She was being taken care of. So why did she feel like this?
When she finally opened her eyes again, the feeling intensified, and she felt the need to get up. She needed to move around some, and the confinement was getting to her. It was as close to feeling claustrophobic as she had ever experienced. Sitting up, she bent her legs, hugging them, and shivered with the chill from the damp night air. Still visible were the firemen, now standing around talking, still holding shovels. She knew the one closest to her, so reaching out, she tugged on his pants leg.
When Chet turned and looked at her, he had a big smile. Kneeling, he patted her arm. "What can I do for you?"
She returned his smile. "Do you think Roy is busy?"
Chet turned on his heels and looked behind. "Doesn't look like it. Do you need me to get him?"
Cindy nodded. "I just want to ask him something, if it's okay."
"Of course, it's okay. Let me grab him."
She felt panic simmering inside her as she watched Roy walk over. He knelt and smiled. His medic eyes were always assessing his patients, and this time, she looked worried. Sitting up, she was gently rocking and holding her knees tight to her chest. Her color was a little off, and for the first time, she didn't return his smile.
"Cindy, what's wrong?"
She shook her head, trying to keep the tears from flowing. The last thing she wanted was to be overdramatic like the man beside her. "I don't know."
Reaching over, he checked her pulse. It was now 120. "Are you hurting somewhere?"
She shook her head. "No."
Okay, maybe she was getting anxious about the delay. "I'm going to check your vitals again, okay?"
She nodded, still moving restlessly. "Okay."
Her blood pressure was now 100 over 60. "Can you tell me how you're feeling?"
Her furrowed brow and worried eyes conveyed her anxiety. He noted her breathing was quick but not distressed.
"I don't know. Just…off."
"Are you having trouble breathing?"
"No. I feel, it's weird, I don't know."
He patted her shoulder. "Okay, just try and relax. Can you lay down for me?"
Quickly, she shook her head. "I can't."
"Alright." She felt chilled, so he pulled the blanket around her shoulders.
Turning, he saw Chet behind him. "Chet, grab Johnny and the IV supplies. And the oxygen."
He frowned just slightly. "Sure, Roy." And he was gone.
In a minute, Johnny was at her other side. She was still shifting around for comfort. "What's up?"
His first look was at the worry lines on his partner's face. Something was wrong. When he looked down at Cindy, nothing immediately caught his eye except for the fear in her eyes.
"What's wrong?" He quickly asked her.
"Pressure is 100 over 60, pulse 120, respirations 30. Call it in, and I'll get an IV in her." Roy couldn't convey the sense of urgency he felt deep down, even if he didn't know why.
She kept shifting around, her legs and arms moving around. "I don't want an IV… I need to get up," she almost cried.
"Try and relax for me, Cindy," Roy encouraged her. "The IV will help us give you some medicine and fluids for hydration."
"No, no, no…no…no…" She muttered. "No…"
Johnny looked at Roy with a raised brow.
"Cindy, I need you to lay back, okay." He gently pressed on her shoulder, only to feel resistance as she tightened her grip on her knees.
"I can't…" She rested her head on her knees and turned towards Roy, her eyes full of tears now. "I'm scared."
Roy consciously relaxed his body, determined not to show any worry from his own stance. She needed to see relaxed confidence in those around her. "Can you tell me what's making you feel scared?"
Her breathing was quick and reflected her stress levels. "I think…"
He waited patiently.
"I think if I lay down…" She looked directly at him. "I'll die."