Into The Darkness
by Ginny (Beth) Tice
Part 1
It wasn't exactly the kind of weather a firefighter appreciates - at least not when there are fires to fight. When Johnny and Roy returned to the station from Rampart, the rest of the crew was already there; exhausted and sweaty. Johnny limped over to the sofa, and, pushing Henry toward Chet, eased his achy bones onto the sticky vinyl, and sighed. Roy went to the sink for a glass of water.
"Did the chick make it?" Chet asked Johnny.
"Yeah, she'll be ok. She just got a lot of smoke. Her mom was burned pretty bad, but Doctor Brackett seems to think she'll be ok, too."
"Great news, Gage. She seemed pretty, uh, grateful to you for getting her out."
Johnny raised an eyebrow and glared at Chet. "Chet - her apartment building was burning down. She would have died. You expect her not to be grateful to get out?"
"All I'm saying is that she seemed particularly grateful to you."
Johnny glanced toward Roy who was now sitting at the table with the rest of the guys.
"Leave me out of it," Roy said without looking up.
"Chet, you're… you…" Johnny clenched his fists in frustration and rose from the sofa to get something to drink.
"I think you should call her when she gets out of the hospital. You know, to make sure she's ok. I mean, she and her mom are gonna be homeless ya know," Chet said.
"If you're so worried about her, you call her!" Johnny replied.
"Gage, I just don't get you! She was a gorgeous chick, and she definitely had a thing for you!"
Johnny forcefully set his empty glass down on the counter. "I'm gonna go take a shower."
Later, as Marco prepared that night's dinner, Johnny and Roy shared the Sunday paper - trading sections. As evening began to fall, the temperature outside finally began to drop into the eighties. It was still quite hot inside the station. All the windows were open, but there was little breeze, and Johnny could feel a bead of sweat rolling down his side. The fact that Marco had the oven on wasn't helping matters.
Johnny stood up, grabbed a soda out of the fridge and walked out the back door to the parking lot. The sun was down, but the sky was still lit. Leaning up against the side of his Land Rover, he looked up at the stars. A second later, he heard the door open again, and looked up to see Roy walking toward him.
"I just talked to Brackett. The woman and her daughter are gonna be fine." Roy said.
"Good. That's good." Johnny replied.
"Yeah. Chet's getting to you, isn't he?"
Johnny drank the remainder of his soda, and tossed the can into the garbage. "Naw," Johnny sighed. "Well, maybe. I dunno."
"Listen, don't pay attention to him. You know he is trying to get a rise out of you. You should know Chet by now."
"I do! But Roy, he's always giving me crap about chicks having a 'thing' for me. Remember when he talked me into calling that girl, what's her name… the chick with the broken leg…"
"Elaine," Roy replied, folding his arms in front of him.
"Yeah. And I took her out! She was nuts, man! I have to stop listening to him."
The claxon sounded. Both men ran back into the station and jumped in the squad.
"Engine 51, Squad 51, warehouse fire - 1460 Sherman Street, cross street Dakota - time out, twenty thirty two."
When they arrived at the warehouse, it was virtually engulfed in flames. Johnny thought to himself that it was fortunate the fire had started late in the evening on a Sunday, therefore there was probably no one in the building. Before he had even finished the thought, Cap Stanley came up to the squad.
"There're two men still in there. Gage, DeSoto, go in on the East side."
The men put on their turnout coats and air masks and headed toward the east side of the building. Chet and Marco had a hose aimed at the spot where Johnny and Roy would enter what was left of the building. Roy climbed through the relatively small opening that Stoker had made for them with his axe. Johnny followed.
"Hello?" Roy yelled into the blinding smoke. "Can you hear me?"
There was no response.
Roy continued through what narrow passageway was left. The old wood frame of the warehouse had burned fast and hot. Fallen ceiling beams were lying across the floor everywhere. The smoke made it difficult to see more than a few feet. He lifted timber out of his way, and continued. Johnny followed close behind, both men calling out to anyone who could hear them.
"Hello?" Johnny yelled. He knew that his voice wasn't carrying with his air mask covering his face. These two men might be only yards away, and Johnny couldn't see them. It was doubtful that they'd even be able to hear him. Just then, he thought he heard a muffled plea over the sounds of sirens and hoses and falling wood.
"Roy! I heard something!"
They both froze in their tracks.
"Hello?" Johnny yelled from beneath his mask.
There was no reply.
"Dammit!" Johnny said, and yanked off his helmet and his oxygen mask so that he could be heard.
"Where are you!?" He yelled again, feeling the smoke burning his throat and stinging his eyes.
"We're here! Help us!" exclaimed the voice.
Johnny looked around and saw something red under a fallen door. He motioned for Roy to follow him. Still carrying his helmet and air mask, Johnny climbed over rubble to the spot from where the voice had come.
"Thank God you found us. I don't think he's breathing!" Said a large man whose face was black from soot and smoke.
Johnny reached over and lifted a large beam. Under it was the second man, unconscious.
"They're both here, Roy," Johnny said. "This guy's unconscious."
Johnny turned his attention to the less badly-injured man.
"You're gonna be all right," Johnny said to the man. "My partner and I are gonna get you and your friend outta here. I promise."
Johnny reached over and put his own air mask on the unconscious man. He grabbed the man's wrist and felt for a pulse. It was slow and thready, but there. As Johnny reached over to try to pull the fallen door off the first man, he realized that the thin floor was creaking and swaying with his movements.
Roy reached over and began to help Johnny with the heavy door. As they moved the door off the injured men, one of the floor boards just a foot or two away gave way and fell through to the basement of the warehouse. Johnny and Roy both assisted the first man as he stood up and climbed over the second man. Roy grabbed his arm and began to lead him to safety.
"I'll take him out and come back," Roy shouted through his air mask.
"Ok. I think I've almost got this guy free, " Johnny yelled back.
When Roy and the first victim stepped out of the building, the two paramedics from Station 8 ran over with a gurney, and took over the care of the victim.
Roy was fighting his way back to where he had left Johnny. The unconscious man had begun to move a bit and moan. Johnny pulled the last remaining board from the man's legs. The man began to pant and choke. He yanked the mask off his face.
"Hey man, you're going to be ok," he said, replacing the mask. "We're gonna get you outta here, I promise, but you need to keep that mask on!"
Johnny wasn't even certain the man could hear him over the noise of the fire and the commotion outside the warehouse. The smoke was burning his throat and he could barely even hear himself speaking. Boards and beams were falling to the floor all around him. Roy appeared again to help him get the second man out.
Johnny knelt down and removed the air mask from the man's face. He put the strap over his head and placed the mask back on his own face.
"Let's go!" Roy hollered, not even certain Johnny could hear him.
"Right behind you!" Johnny yelled back, as Roy disappeared into the thick smoke.
He turned around to pick up his helmet, but couldn't see it.
"Dammit!"
He looked down into the space where the floor board had fallen through to the basement. His helmet had to have fallen down through that space. It was just too hard to see anything. The smoke was thick and black. He knelt down on the floor to attempt a better look. As he did, he felt the entire floor give way beneath him. Everything went black.
When Roy reached safe ground outside the building, he carefully lowered the patient to the ground. Instinctively, he looked over his shoulder for Johnny, but didn't see anything except smoke coming from the warehouse. He felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Something was wrong.
"Marco, can you grab the biophone and oxygen from the Squad?"
Marco returned with the equipment. As Roy hurriedly began to work on his patient, he realized that Johnny must be in trouble.
Roy spotted Captain Stanley and waved to get his attention.
"Cap! I think Johnny's in trouble!"
Cap waved over one of the medics from Station 8 to take over the patient, and ordered Marco and Roy back into the building to find Johnny. Both men once again donned their air tanks and helmets, and headed into the thick smoke.
When they reached the area where the door had fallen on the men, Roy and Marco saw the gaping hole where once had been a floor. Leaning carefully over the opening of the hole, Roy felt his throat tighten when he finally spotted Johnny. He was lying face-down, on the concrete floor, covered with smoldering, smoking timber.
He wasn't moving.
"Lopez! Get the stokes! Quickly!"
Marco turned and ran in the direction from which he'd come.
Roy found an area of the floor that was relatively stable, and lowered himself to the basement floor.
Roy pulled Johnny's left arm out from underneath him. He removed his glove, and felt Johnny's wrist for a pulse. Thank God, Roy thought to himself.
"Johnny! Johnny, can you hear me?" There was no answer. No movement.
He could see Johnny's chest rising, so he knew he was breathing. Marco and Chet returned with the stokes and after securing it to a concrete pillar, lowered it down to Roy. He gently lifted Johnny into the basket and he was pulled up through the hole. Roy climbed up when the Stokes was safely on the solid floor. The three men carried their friend out of the burning building.
####
By the time Marco, Chet and Roy had reached the ambulance with Johnny, Roy could see the large gash on Johnny's forehead and blood seeping from a knot in the back of his head. He was still unconscious. The attendants loaded the gurney into the ambulance.
Captain Stanley ran over to Roy. "The two victims are already en-route to Rampart. You go with Gage."
Roy didn't even take time to reply to the captain. He jumped into the ambulance. Marco slammed the doors, and Johnny and Roy left for Rampart.
The ride was bumpy. It was always tricky starting an IV in an ambulance. Roy certainly didn't want to miss a vein on this patient. He tried hard to focus on what he needed to do, but it was so hard to see his partner and best friend so helpless. As the IV needle punctured the skin on Johnny's arm, he began to stir.
"Roy - what happened?" Johnny moaned and tried to sit up.
Roy tried to conceal his relief that Johnny was finally awake and alert. He held Johnny's arm firmly with his left hand while he removed the needle with his right.
"Just lie still, Junior, you're gonna be fine. You fell through the floor, and hit your head. You didn't have your helmet on and got whacked pretty good," Roy said as he wrapped the blood pressure cuff around his partner's arm.
"Oh, man. The Cap is gonna kill me."
"The Cap is gonna be glad you're all right," said Roy.
"Maybe. But then he's still gonna kill me."
####
Doctor Early, Doctor Brackett, and Dixie surrounded Johnny's bed in Exam Room 2.
"Johnny, do you know what day it is?" Doctor Early asked.
"Sunday," Johnny answered.
"Do you remember what happened?"
"Um… yeah, some of it. I fell."
Doctor Brackett moved around the bed, examining Johnny's legs and arms for injury. "You sure did."
Doctor Early was examining Johnny's pupils with a pen light.
"Do you hurt anywhere besides your head?" Asked Doctor Early.
"Not really. Well, I'm kinda sore all over. But I'm really okay, Doc."
"Why don't you let us determine that, Johnny?" Brackett said as he pulled the blanket back up over Johnny's torso.
"You don't seem to have any fractures, just some cuts on your head and a mild concussion," said Early.
"Good!" Johnny looked toward the foot of the bed, and grinned at Roy. "I can go home!"
Doctor Early walked around to the other side of Johnny's bed. "No, we're going to stitch up your head, and keep you overnight for observation. I don't see any reason why you couldn't go home tomorrow."
"Great!" Johnny laid back on the bed and sighed.
"We're going to go check on those two men you brought in. We'll check back with you in a bit, " Doctor Brackett said as he and Doctor Early made their way out the door into the corridor.
Dixie leaned over while she stitched Johnny's head, looking him right in the eyes. "You are really lucky, John. Where the hell was your helmet?"
"Gage doesn't need a helmet! His head is hard as a rock!" Chet walked in the room smiling.
"Chet, don't even start," Johnny said just as Dixie finished the stitches, and was covering the wound with a bandage.
"Well! I'll leave you guys alone to debate the complexities of the human skull," Dixie remarked. "Call me if you need anything, John. We'll have you admitted soon, and then you can get some sleep, in your own room."
"John, they oughtta give you a discount rate at this place," Chet said. "You must hold the Department record for time spent at Rampart."
"Well Chet, what can I say? The nurses like to have me around."
Roy patted Johnny on the foot and eased toward the door. "I'm gonna go call the station and tell the rest of the guys that you're okay. C'mon Chet, let's let Johnny get some rest."
Roy held the door while Chet left the room.
"Uh, wait. Roy?"
"Yeah?"
"Listen . . . thanks. I mean it. I woulda bought it back there if you hadn'ta found me."
"No problem. Get some rest. I'll be back later," Roy said.
"K," Johnny replied, and lay back against the pillow. He sighed and closed his eyes. Even with the medication he had been given, he did not feel drowsy. He reached up and gingerly felt the bandage covering the stitches on his head. His entire scalp was still numb from the Novocaine. He could feel the dried blood and dirt caked in his hair.
This time was way too close, he thought to himself. If I were a cat, my nine lives would be used up. My luck cannot hold out. Next time, it will be all over. With these thoughts crawling through his mind, he drifted off to sleep.
####
By Wednesday, Johnny had lost patience with being cooped up in his apartment, doing nothing but watching TV and listening to albums. His apartment was littered with pizza boxes and empty Chinese takeout containers. He had been so sore from his fall that he hadn't been able to perform the most basic housekeeping chores.
It was a painful struggle to shower and dress on Thursday morning, but he couldn't bear the thought of another day at home. He managed to pull himself together in less than half an hour, and before he left his apartment, he grabbed a Pepsi from the fridge and swallowed a handful of aspirin. When he pulled into the station, it was still an hour before his shift was to begin. He walked into the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, and greet the guys from C-shift.
"Morning, gentlemen!" Johnny said energetically.
Dwyer was sitting at the table, reading a newspaper and drinking from a coffee cup.
"Hey, John! How ya feelin? We were all real worried when we heard what happened!"
Johnny reached up and touched the bandage covering the stitches on his forehead. The knot on the back of his head had diminished considerably.
"I'm doin' great. Just great," Johnny said, flashing his lopsided grin. "I'll tell ya though, man, am I glad to be back at work. I’m not cut out for hangin' around the house all day!"
Johnny walked over to the counter and after pouring what was left of the coffee into his cup, he started a new pot.
"Well, I'm sure Roy'll be really happy you're back," Dwyer replied. "He had to put up with Brice for two days. Man, I think Roy's gonna quit the department if he gets stuck with that guy one more time!"
Johnny chuckled and took a swig of his coffee. "Hey, that's no problem, cause I don't intend on missin' any more shifts! Hey Dwyer, pass the sports section over here if you're done with it."
Dwyer leaned over and handed Johnny the newspaper.
Johnny sat back in his chair and put his feet up just as the claxon sounded and C-shift ran out to the apparatus bay. He sipped his coffee and set the newspaper in his lap. As he looked at the front page of each section, he noticed something unusual. There seemed to be a sort of halo around the pictures and the print on the paper. He blinked and looked down again. It was still there. He rubbed his eyes and stood up to refill his coffee, slightly disturbed by what had just occurred. He set the paper to the side of the table and glanced over at Henry, who was reclined on the sofa with all four feet in the air.
"One thing about you, Henry," Johnny announced, "You certainly aren't modest."
Fifteen minutes later, Roy walked into the kitchen to find Johnny sitting at the table, staring into space.
"Hey, Johnny. Welcome back. How ya feelin'?"
Johnny swallowed hard and smiled. "Great, great!"
"I sure am glad you're back today! Another day with Brice and… man, I just dunno. He drove me crazy."
Roy walked to the counter and poured a cup of the freshly-brewed coffee.
"Refill?" He asked Johnny.
"Sure, yeah. Thanks." Johnny held out his cup.
"Are you sure you're feeling well enough to be back today? Two days isn't much time to recover from a concussion." Roy said
"Hell yes! I’m fine!"
Johnny and Roy were sitting at the table drinking coffee and talking about Roy's runs with Brice when the rest of the crew arrived.
"Hey Gage, welcome back, man." Chet whacked Johnny on the back.
"Thanks. Did ya miss me Chester?"
"Naw. Hardly noticed you were gone. Except it was a lot quieter around here now that I think about it," Chet replied.
"Give it a rest, Kelly." Cap asked as he sat down at the table, "how're you feelin, Pal?"
"Really good, Cap. The stitches come out on Friday." Johnny said touching his head again.
Johnny glanced at the newspaper which Captain Stanley was now reading. He thought again about the incident with his eyes earlier, and then forced the thoughts out of his mind. His eyes were tired, that was it. He'd been watching too much TV while he was home the past two days.
The claxon sounded.
"Station 51. Child trapped in trunk of car. 2004 Longmeadow Drive. Two Zero Zero Four Longmeadow Drive. Time out, 09:26."
"KMG-365" Captain Stanley responded to the dispatcher, wrote down the address, which he handed to Roy.
When they arrived at the scene, they found a blue sedan parked in the driveway of a large, ranch-style house, A woman and three small children surrounded the car.
"Please! My son is in the trunk! Can you get him out?" She yelled desperately.
"Yes, ma'am," Roy replied. "Where are the keys to the car?"
"They're in the trunk! He took them in there with him, and now he can't get out!" She began to sob hysterically.
"Ma'am, you have to calm down!" Johnny took hold of the woman's arms and forced her to look him in the eyes.
"You have to calm down and talk to me if we're gonna get your son out of there!"
Roy had begun trying to pry the trunk open.
"Now, ma'am, you don't have a spare key for this trunk anywhere?" Johnny inquired
"No, no" she said between stifled sobs, "my husband has a spare set, but he's away on a business trip."
Captain Stanley radioed for an ambulance to respond to their location.
Roy walked over to Johnny and the boy's mother.
"What is your son's name, ma'am?" Roy asked.
"Jeffrey," she replied.
"How old is he? How long has he been in there?"
"He's eight. I dunno -- the kids were playing outside after breakfast, and about twenty minutes ago, Laura came inside and told me that Jeffery was in the trunk! I thought she was kidding around, but I came outside and heard him in the trunk. I called you right away. So, I guess it's been over an hour now. Is he gonna die?"
Johnny reached over to the woman to lead her away from the trunk.
"No ma'am, not if we can help it. Now, when was the last time you heard Jeffrey say something?" Johnny asked the woman.
"Um, he was talking just before you got here. He was complaining about being hot. I told him the fire department was coming to get him out! I told him to hang on! Is he dead?" She was becoming hysterical.
Cap Stanley ordered Chet and Marco to bring the K-12 over.
Johnny led the woman to the front porch where she could sit down.
"Ma'am, you have to try and get hold of yourself. Take a deep breath. We're doing everything we can to get your son out of there. Now breathe deeply. That's it."
As Johnny looked down at the woman sitting on the step, suddenly his vision seemed to get narrow. He felt for a moment as if he were looking down a long tunnel. A tunnel surrounded by stars and flashing lights. The screaming noises of the K-12 became muffled. He reached out instinctively for the post to steady his balance. The woman sat on the step, her hands over her face; sobbing. The other children tried to offer comfort to the woman.
"Ma'am, please sit here, out of the way while we work. I'll be back in a second," Johnny said.
"All right. But please… please don't let my son die."
Johnny stepped away from the porch without replying. He rubbed his eyes forcefully, almost as if willing his sight to become clear again. He stepped over to the side of the car where Roy was standing watching Chet and Marco trying to extricate the boy from the trunk.
"They've almost got him. I've got Rampart standing by." Roy turned to look at Johnny. "He hasn't made a sound."
Johnny's head was spinning, but he tried to focus on the boy in the trunk. He had to do his job. "I know. Let's just hope we've gotten to him in time," Johnny said, almost to himself.
Before Johnny had finished the sentence, the trunk popped open. Roy rushed forward to remove the boy from the trunk of the car. After scooping him up, he quickly moved to the lawn beside the driveway and lowered the boy to the grass.
The boy's mother attempted to run to her son's side, but was stopped by Captain Stanley.
"Is he alive? Is he alive?" She repeated, between sobs.
Neither Johnny nor Roy took the time to answer her.
As Johnny checked for pulses, Roy picked up the biophone and reestablished a connection with Rampart.
"Roy, I've got a weak carotid pulse."
Johnny reached over and put the oxygen mask over the boy's nose and mouth.
Roy began to relay information to Dr. Brackett.
"Rampart, this is Squad 51. We have an eight-year-old male. He's been trapped in the trunk of a car for approximately an hour. He is unconscious, but has a weak carotid pulse."
As Johnny continued assessing Jeffrey, the ambulance pulled up.
"Carotid pulse is fifteen and thready. Respirations are forty-five. Skin is cool and clammy. No peripheral pulses."
Roy repeated the vitals over the biophone.
Doctor Brackett ordered an IV be started on the boy. Johnny reached over for the IV kit. He tied a tourniquet around the upper arm and began to search for a vein. He had the needle poised to insert in a vein. He looked down and could not distinguish anything. Johnny's entire field of vision was gone. Dammit! What the hell is going on here? He felt for a moment as if he were under water. Roy turned to Johnny and saw him hesitate with the IV needle.
"Johnny! The IV!" Roy shouted.
"Uh, Roy, you better do it." Johnny reached over and handed Roy the syringe.
Roy said nothing. He quickly switched places with Johnny and started the IV. Johnny grabbed the biophone and repeated Dr. Brackett's orders to him. The blurriness disappeared as quickly as it had begun. The boy was put on a gurney and loaded into the ambulance.
"I'll go with him." Roy said.
Johnny paused for a moment as he watched Roy jump in the ambulance. Should I risk driving the squad? He decided that since his eyes seemed to be fine now, the short drive to Rampart would be safe enough. If he had another episode, he would pull the Squad over and contact Engine 51 by radio. He quickly scrambled behind the wheel of the squad. Lights and sirens blaring, he followed the ambulance to Rampart.
####
Johnny was packing a small box with supplies for the squad when Roy walked up.
"I'm just about ready. Uh, Roy, could you grab me some D-5-W?"
Roy reached into the chrome cabinet and pulled out two IV bags. He handed them to Johnny, who put them in the box.
Roy walked around to the front of the counter and looked at Johnny.
"Johnny." Roy said. Johnny was counting the items he had put in the box, and noting the counts on the supply form.
"Yeah?" Johnny said between counts without looking up.
"What happened back there - with the IV?"
Johnny stopped counting. He leaned on the counter with one hand and rubbed the back of his neck.
"I… just have a headache. I'll take some aspirin back at the station."
"Are you sure that's all it is? I've never seen you like that before. I think you should see Doc Brackett. You know, have him take another look at your head."
"Roy, man, I'm fine! I told you!" Johnny put the box under his arm, grabbed the handy talkie and turned to leave. "Let's go."
As they were walking down the hall toward the ambulance bay, the alarm went off on the handy talkie.
"Squad 51," the radio blared, "possible heart attack. 4221 Carson Circle. Four, two two one Carson Circle. Time out, ten-forty-two."
"Squad 51 responding," Johnny replied back to the radio. He opened the Squad's compartment doors and put the box of supplies on one of the shelves. He slammed the doors and jumped into the passenger seat just as Roy was starting the engine. As they pulled out of Rampart, Roy switched on the lights and sirens and turned to face Johnny.
"Johnny, if your head isn't better after this run, I want you to take the rest of the day off and have Brackett take a look at you. I'm concerned about your well-being, but I'm also worried about your ability to treat patients. What happened today with that boy's IV cannot happen again."
Johnny shifted uncomfortably in his seat as the Squad tore down the street.
"I'm okay, Roy. Really, I am. I promise you, it won't happen again."
The squad pulled up in front of a small two-story house with a well-kept garden, and nicely-manicured lawn. The front door was open, and as Roy switched the sirens off and turned off the engine, a woman appeared from the house.
"Please hurry," the woman shouted, motioning to Johnny and Roy as they gathered their equipment from the compartments on the squad.
"My husband is having chest pain," the woman continued as she led them up the front walk to the door.
"How old is he?" Roy inquired of the woman.
"He'll be seventy next week."
Johnny and Roy entered the home and immediately crossed the living room toward the man lying on the sofa. Roy set the biophone on the floor and opened it up to establish contact with Rampart.
"Sir, my name is John Gage, this is my partner, Roy DeSoto. We're Los Angeles County paramedics." Johnny began to unbutton the man's shirt.
"I'm just going to listen to your chest, okay?" Johnny said as he removed his stethoscope and blood pressure cuff from the box.
"Rampart, this is Squad Fifty-one, how do you read?"
"Loud and clear Fifty-one. Go ahead," Johnny heard Doctor Brackett reply from the base station.
"When did the pain start?" Johnny asked as he wrapped the cuff around the man's arm.
"About forty-five minutes ago. I thought it was just heartburn, so I took some antacid tablets. They didn't help. The pain just got worse."
"Is it a heart attack?" The man's wife was becoming more agitated.
"We don't know that yet, ma'am. Just sit down and try and relax. We're going to do everything we can for your husband. Sir, are you taking any medications other than the antacids you took a while ago?"
The man grimaced. "No, nothing." He then lost consciousness.
"Roy, BP is one-seventy over one-hundred, pulse is ninety and respirations are thirty." Johnny removed his stethoscope and began to hook the patient to the data scope.
"Rampart, we have a seventy-year-old male, suffering from chest pain. He just loss consciousness. Vitals are: BP one-seventy over one-hundred, pulse is ninety and respirations are thirty. The patient is markedly diaphoretic. We are preparing to transmit EKG."
"Ten-four, Fifty-one. Standing by," Replied Doctor Brackett.
Johnny started the EKG.
"Fifty-one, patient is in V-Tach. Start IV with D-5-W and administer one point five milligrams lidocaine IV push. Put patient on six liters of oxygen, and transport as soon as possible."
"Ten-four, Rampart. IV D-5W, one point five milligrams lidocaine IV push, six liters of O2. Transporting immediately."
Johnny moved the green oxygen tank closer to the sofa, hooked up the cannula, and started the flow of oxygen at six liters per minute. As he did this, the man's wife sat down on the sofa, and lit a cigarette she had pulled from a pack in the pocket of her apron. Her hands were trembling.
"Ma'am," Johnny chastised the woman. "You're going to have to put that out! We're using oxygen here!" The woman, her cheeks wet with tears, stubbed out the cigarette in a large leaf-shaped ashtray in the center of the coffee table.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, " She sighed.
Roy completed the IV's just as the ambulance pulled into the driveway. The man was placed on the gurney and wheeled out the door to the ambulance. His wife stayed close behind.
"Ma'am," Johnny touched her on the shoulder as her husband was being loaded into the rig, "We're taking your husband to Rampart Emergency. You can ride in the ambulance if you'd like, but you'll have to ride in the front seat."
"No, that's all right. I'll drive our car to the hospital." She looked up at Johnny. Her eyes were pleading with him to save her husband's life. "Tell me the truth, is he going to be okay?"
"Ma'am, we're doing everything we can. But, we need to go, now." Johnny replied.
The woman turned and ran into the house presumably to find her car keys.
"Johnny, you go with him in the ambulance. I'll drive the squad in," Roy said.
Johnny climbed up in the rig as Roy slammed the back doors. Roy slapped the back of the ambulance and the driver pulled out of the driveway. Johnny felt that annoying tightening in his throat - he knew why Roy wanted to drive the squad. He didn't want Johnny driving.
He tried to put the thought in the back of his mind, and prepared to acquire a second set of vital signs on his patient. Sitting on the bench, he reached over for the man's left wrist, and looked down at his watch. The familiar face of the watch was a white blur. He couldn't make out any numbers, much less even distinguish the movement of the second hand. He felt a cold sweat envelop his body.
This can't be happening. Not now! He thought. He dropped the man's wrist, and rubbed his eyes. He stood up to reach across the patient to retrieve the blood pressure cuff, sitting on the shelf behind the data scope. As he reached for the cuff, his field of vision narrowed into blackness.