"Okay, so what’s goin’ on?" Wick asked.
Bell shot him a glance as he weaved the R.A. through the light traffic. "What
are you talking about?"
Wick rolled his eyes. "Uh-uh, we are not playing 20 questions here, folks,"
he drawled, turning to open the small window that separated the cab of the
rig from the back. "I mean, when this call came through, I woke up alone –
ALONE – in the room. Where were ya’all?"
Bell paused, concentrating on the street signs for a moment. North
Rosemead…there it was. He signaled to turn.
"We were in the kitchen, Wick." Ryan answered, sticking her hand through the
window. "We couldn’t sleep."
"You couldn’t sleep?" Wick raised an eyebrow.
Ryan sighed. "No, Wick, neither Bell nor I could sleep. It’s like an oven in
that room. The fact that you could sleep, with the covers on, no less, was
incredible! Or, at least, that’s what I thought." Ryan retorted.
Bell chuckled, and Wick glared at both of them. "Well, what were you doin’ in
the kitchen?" he asked.
"Talking." Bell and Ryan answered at the same time.
"Talking? You were talking? Mr. Silent here," Wick pointed to Bell, "decides
to talk and nobody woke me up?"
"Wick!" Ryan said sharply.
Wick held up his hands. "Hey, he’s barely spoken in a month, I think I should
be told when he finally opens his mouth and starts talking to us again!"
"Can it, Wick…" Ryan tried to diffuse the growing tension.
"No! I want to know what’s goin’ on here." He turned to Bell. "You angry or
something?"
Bell shook his head. "No, but I’m getting there, man."
"What’s that supposed to mean? You’ve barely said a word to anyone since Ryan
and I almost kicked the bucket in the chemical plant, and you act like it’s
our fault or somethin’! I think that’s a lot of nerve-"
"Wick, shut up!" Ryan ordered. "Honestly, Wick-"
"Ryan, it’s okay." Bell interrupted as he pulled up to the curb outside
Emerson Industries. He turned to Wick. "We’ll talk later, okay?"
Wick shrugged as he got out of the R.A. "Whatever, man." Wick reached into
the side compartment to get the bags, cringing to himself. He regretted
opening his mouth and saying that to Bell, but he hated being left out of the
loop and…Bell had been acting so weird lately. Well, not really…Bell hadn’t
really been acting like much of anything, just quiet. And why did I bring up
the chemical plant, Wick thought. Way to go, man, shove it in his face.
Probably still feels guilty…I know I do, Wick shook his head and joined Ryan
and Bell at the front of the building.
Ryan shot him a look that could have scared the devil. I’ll just keep my
mouth shut for the rest of this call, Wick decided.
"Dispatch, the doors are locked. How do we get in?" Bell spoke into his
radio, annoyed.
"Rescue 77, caller says that the doors are operated electronically, and he
doesn’t have the code. Requests that you climb fence approximately 50 feet
east from front entrance," the dispatcher responded.
"Oh, give me a break." Ryan muttered.
Bell nodded. "Rescue 77, copy that." Turning to Ryan and Wick, he pointed to
the right. "Well…"
They began walking down the sidewalk, hauling the bags with medical supplies
and the backboard with them.
"Here." Ryan stopped and peered through the chain link fence. "I think I see
someone…yeah, around the corner of the building." She looked at Wick. "You
first, we’ll hand the equipment over to you."
Wick nodded. He grabbed the fence and began climbing, feeling Bell’s and
Ryan’s hands spotting him as he lifted himself over the top. He jumped to the
other side, and reached up to get the backboard Bell handed to him. The bags
were next, and Wick laid them on the ground as Ryan began to climb the fence.
Bell waited till she was on the other side, then climbed over.
They walked quickly, rounding the corner of the building. Two men could
easily be heard, arguing.
"Listen, man, I told you to take it more slowly…you shouldn’t have been
running down the stairs like that!" said one man, in a guard’s uniform.
"Yeah, well, maybe if you had offered to help me carry some of this stuff, I
wouldn’t have fallen! You ever think of that?" said another man, on the
ground.
"All right, all right, what happened here?" Ryan kneeled next to the man on
the ground. "You fell down the steps?"
The man sighed loudly and crossed his arms over his chest. "I’m fine," he
glared at the guard. "You didn’t have to call the paramedics."
The guard rolled his eyes and looked at Bell and Ryan. "Well, he wouldn’t get
up, what was I supposed to do?"
Bell nodded and got out the blood pressure cuff. "Listen, we’re here now, so
why don’t we just take a look, okay?" he said to the man on the ground.
"What’s your name?"
"Bill – Bill McIntyre."
Ryan felt his head for any wounds. "What happened, Bill?"
McIntyre threw his arms up. "I had to pull an all-nighter – I’ve got a big
presentation coming up on Thursday – and I was carrying a couple of boxes of
stuff to take to the copiers, and I tripped, no thanks to him!" McIntyre
gestured to the guard.
"Hey, man, don’t push it – I’m not even supposed to let anyone stay after
hours!" The guard responded, irritated.
Bell moved in between the two, pulling McIntyre’s hands back down. "Look,
let’s just calm down, okay?" He gave a pointed look to McIntyre. "Your blood
pressure is high enough without you yelling at everyone."
McIntyre huffed out a breath. "Fine," he scowled at Ryan as she probed his
shoulders and arms, "but you should know that it’s my leg that hurts, not
anything else."
Wick moved to kneel at McIntyre’s feet. "Which side?" he asked.
"Right – I think I broke my ankle or something."
Wick rolled up McIntyre’s pants leg, spotting the swelling coming above the
sock. "Yep, I think you did, man." He started to remove the sock and shoe to
wrap the ankle.
"Hey, watch it!" McIntyre yelled as Wick touched a tender spot.
Ryan held him down. "Listen, if you don’t calm down, I’m gonna call in and
ask to sedate you," she said, her expression serious.
McIntyre had the grace to look apologetic. "All right, look, I’m sorry…it’s
just been a bad day."
"Tell me about it." Wick said, immediately regretting it. Ryan shot him
another look, and he knew he was in for it when they got back to the station.
Bell broke the silence. "I hate to bring this up, but…how are we gonna get
him out?"
Ryan and Wick both looked up. "What do you mean, get me out?" McIntyre
demanded.
Ryan turned back to him. "You don’t happen to know the code to the front door
do you?"
"Of course not…that’s what the guard is for."
Bell shook his head as McIntyre and the guard began to argue again. He looked
around, spotting a gate a distance away.
Bell turned to the guard. "You gotta a key to open up that large gate on the
east side?"
"Yeah, man."
Bell nodded. "Okay, I think the R.A. can fit through there, so I’ll try to
get it into the lot," he glanced at Ryan and Wick, "sound cool?"
"Yeah, I don’t really feel like climbing any more fences." Ryan grinned and
took out her radio to call in to the hospital with McIntyre’s vitals.
Wick continued to wrap the ankle. "Sounds good to me."
McIntyre looked at him and gave him a grudging thumbs-up sign. "Thanks!"
Bell smiled and got up. "No problem."
****
The guard started to jog over to the gate as Bell climbed the fence. Jumping
to the other side, he walked quickly to the R.A. and got in. It revved up,
and he began backing up, slowly maneuvering the large vehicle towards the
gate. Watching through the side mirrors, he managed to get the R.A. facing
forward again, and he started the turn into the gate. The guard directed him
with his hands, signaling the amount of room between the R.A. and the large
light pole on the passenger side.
Bell backed the R.A. up again and adjusted the wheels slowly. He leaned his
head out of his window and shook his head. "Hey, man, how the hell do you get
the delivery trucks in here? There’s no room!"
The guard shrugged and grinned. "Very slowly…and very carefully."
Bell sighed. "Right…"
***
Elsewhere, a semi-trailer veered through traffic. "Comin’ on through…"
muttered the driver as he ran a red light. He sighed, crinkling his nose as
he smelled the whiskey on his breath. Didn’ matter, he thought, he just
needed to make this run on time. He hit the breaks a little as he saw the
sign for Emerson Industries, and wrenched the steering wheel to the right. He
hit the gas again, speeding down the narrow lane until he saw the gate for
deliveries…his foot only brushed the surface of the brake pedal as he yanked
the wheel to the right again…
***
Bell leaned forward, trying to get a better angle to see the light pole
through the passenger side mirror. He was almost through the narrow driveway,
but the angle was still off. After losing the R.A. on Game Day, he had been
more careful, not wanting to hear complaints about scratches or dents…or
anything. Not that it had been all his fault, he grinned, remembering the
shocked look on his father’s face, and the dejected expressions of Wick and
Ryan as they listened to Durfee’s voice yelling at them over the radio, but
since he usually drove, he just wanted to be extra careful…
"Yeah, yeah, that’s good, you almost got it now, man…" the guard called out.
He looked up to check the other side in time to see the semi bearing down on
them. "Hey! Hey! Oh my god-" he yelled.
Bell looked up, surprised, and watched the guard waving his hands madly. He
turned his head to look out his window…
The guard flung himself to the ground as the semi collided with the R.A.,
pushing it into the light pole. The deafening sound of the impact stunned his
ears as he covered his head. He looked out from under his arms to see the
pole begin to swing downwards…it cracked loudly and crashed hard against the
hood of the R.A., breaking the glass in the windshield, sending a sharp
vibration along the ground under his feet. He slowly stood. "Oh my god, oh my
god…"
****
The sound made them jump, and Wick and Ryan snapped their heads up. "What the
hell was that?" asked McIntyre, his eyes wide. Another loud crash brought the
two medics to their feet. Ryan pointed in the direction of the gate. "It came
from over there." Looking at McIntyre, she nodded at him. "We’ll be right
back," and she began jogging towards the gate.
Wick followed, pulling out his radio as he ran.
"Hey, help! Someone help!" a man’s voice shouted in the distance. "For god’s
sake, someone help!"
Wick and Ryan ran faster, rounding the corner. "Oh my god…" Ryan breathed as
she saw it. "Oh my god…"
Wick felt his stomach lurch. "Holy mother of…"
The guard turned as he heard them coming. "It just…oh god…the truck…it
slammed right into the ambulance…and then the pole, it just…it just fell…oh
god…" he cried out wildly.
Ryan skidded to a stop. The front of the R.A. was…she tried to breathe, but
it felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. The semi had crushed the
driver’s side of the R.A., metal imbedded in metal…and the front of the
R.A…the window was gone, broken in, the front of the roof was partially caved
in, and the hood splintered upward around the fallen pole. Over the top, she
could barely see a bloody hand resting awkwardly on the dashboard…the
steering wheel…she could see dark brown hair against the steering wheel…
"Bell? Michael?" she shouted, looking for a way to squeeze through the
wreckage. "Michael, answer me!" she screamed, desperate. She carefully
climbed the front of the R.A., brushing away the shards of glass, trying to
reach over the pole into the cab. She looked to her side and sucked in her
breath. The truck driver was half-in, half-out of his vehicle, his eyes
open…he was dead.
Wick reached for his radio, then remembered it was in his hand. His knuckles
had turned white, and his hand was shaking as he shouted into it. "City Base!
This is Rescue 77! Clear the channels! Emergency traffic, emergency traffic!"
The dispatcher’s smooth voice called over the channel. "This is City Base,
copy. All units, clear channels, emergency traffic…Rescue 77, go ahead."
Wick breathed hard, not hearing his voice become louder. "We got…the R.A…we
got…" he stuttered, trying to clear his head as he watched Ryan struggle over
the hood of the R.A…"we’ve been involved in a serious vehicular incident…"
his eyes widened as he caught sight of the dead truck driver, "we have one
victim dead and…we have one medic trapped in the R.A., condition unknown…we
need immediate assistance at the scene…we need…"
The dispatcher interrupted, her voice urgently taking control of the
conversation. "Rescue 77, confirm location at Emerson Industries, North
Rosemead - "
"Yeah, yeah, confirmed! We’re on the east side of the complex towards Maple…"
he shouted. Okay, okay, they needed an ambulance and another R.A., he looked
at the pole, and a crane…the medic in him snapped back. "City Base, we need
an engine with a crane, we also need another ambulance and another R.A…"
"City Base, copy." There was a click, and he could hear the familiar
high-pitched tone used to signal the stations. "Engine 77, Engine 29, Rescue
29, Engine 32, please respond to Rescue 77, vehicular incident at Emerson
Industries, corner of North Rosemead and Maple, units respond on Tac 2." Wick
listened as the engines responded. The dispatcher came back on the line.
"Rescue 77, advise Engine 77 on Tac 3."
Wick’s fingers fumbled as he switched channels on the radio. Durfee’s voice
was calling loudly. "Rescue 77, this is Engine 77, advise your situation!"
Wick pressed hard on the radio. "Captain, I don’t know what happened! It
looks like a semi just…it…it hit the R.A., and Bell…he’s inside, sir, we
can’t reach him…he’s not responding…oh god, I think he’s…" Wick stumbled over
the words as he caught sight of the blood on the broken windshield.
"The truck, man, he was all over the road, and…and he was going so fast…I
didn’t have time to tell him…it happened too fast…" the guard said, his voice
loud and faltering.
Wick blinked hard, struggling to hear the guard’s voice above the sound of
his heart racing in his ears. "Captain, we need help here – now!" He let
himself feel some relief wash over him as Durfee responded more calmly.
"Wick, we’ll be there in 5. You hear me? E.T.A. is 5 minutes, just hang on,
son."
Wick nodded. "Rescue 77, copy that."
"Wick, give me a push! C’mon!" Ryan called out, her feet slipping as she
tried to reach over the hood. Wick shoved the radio at the guard. "Hold
that," he ordered and kneeled beneath Ryan, steadying her feet and pushing
her up.
Ryan moved her hands carefully, trying not to jostle the cab or get cut on
the pieces of broken windshield strewn over the hood. She stretched over the
pole and reached inside. She touched Bell’s hand on the dashboard and shook
it gently, stopping when she noticed the deep gash on his wrist. "Michael,
hey, c’mon, answer me!" Nothing. "Little more, Wick!"
Wick grunted and pushed her up further. Ryan reached her hand in and
maneuvered her head and one shoulder through the broken glass of the open
windshield. Bell’s face was turned away from her, towards the driver’s side
window. His body was bent forward slightly, and his head rested on the
steering wheel. Ryan strained to move her hand to his neck. She felt her
fingers slip for a moment on something warm and wet…blood…Ryan shut her eyes
and concentrated. There…she could feel a pulse…
"Okay, I’ve got a pulse…he’s alive!" she called to Wick.
Wick closed his eyes and felt himself let out the breath he had been holding.
Ryan continued. "He’s unconscious though…I can see…a laceration on the right
wrist, at least one laceration to the head, both are bleeding heavily…damn!"
Ryan lost her balance for a moment, her hand flailing. She reached down the
dashboard towards the driver’s side window and flattened her hand against the
crushed door.
"You okay?" Wick asked, holding onto her legs harder.
"Yeah, yeah, I’m fine…" she muttered softly as she looked up into the open
eyes of the dead truck driver. Beneath her fingers, she could feel the heat
of the semi’s engine. "Okay, this isn’t gonna work here…I can’t fit in all
the way…pull me out!"
Wick grabbed the back of her jumpsuit, one hand still grasping her leg, and
guided her down from the hood. Ryan jumped down and turned to him, out of
breath. "Okay…if we can clear the rest of the windshield, I might be able to
squeeze in."
Wick shook his head. "No, there’s no room…besides, you might move him. We
need to get the semi outta the way and then we can cut out the door."
Ryan stared at him, angry. "He’s bleeding and his pulse is all over…and I
couldn’t even see the extent of his injuries…we need to start stabilizing him
now!"
Wick looked around for a moment. "Hang on." He moved towards the broken pole.
Beside it was a tear in the fence. Wick slid under it and ran to the back of
the rig. He tugged on the doors, finally pulling them open, and stepped
inside. He pushed the stretcher out and moved to the little window at the
front. It was still open, and he reached through, pressing his face against
the edge.
Wick swallowed as he saw the blood all over the front of the rig. He laid his
hand against Bell’s back, feeling the shallow breaths. "Okay…okay, man, hang
on…" Wick pulled his arm back and looked at the medical equipment thrown from
the shelves and containers. There…a neck brace…he picked it up and reached
through the window again, laying it on the dashboard. Finding some bandages,
he shoved those through as well. Grabbing a tank of oxygen and some tubing,
he got out of the rig and ran back to the fence.
"Ryan! C’mere!" In the distance, he could hear the sirens of the approaching
engines and squad cars.
Ryan ran over, and Wick slid the tank through the fence and then crawled
through. "Hey, get over here!" Ryan called to the guard. He stepped up to her
as she pointed at Wick. "Okay, listen…he’s gonna push me back up there…when I
get to the windshield, I want you to lift the tank over to me, okay?"
The guard nodded, and Ryan stepped onto to the hood of the R.A. Wick grabbed
her feet and hauled her up. "Hang on!" Ryan called to the guard. "Not yet."
She spotted the neck brace and pulled it closer. Shifting, she reached over
and carefully fastened it around Bell. Pulling back out of the window, she
called down to the guard. "Okay, give it to me!" He lifted it up, and she
grabbed on, moving it towards her body. Slowly, she pushed it through the
windshield, over the dashboard, and onto the passenger seat. She released the
airflow and snaked the tube around Bell’s head. A little further… "Okay, I
got the neckbrace and the oxygen on him!" she called out.
"Good! There’s some bandages up there, you see ‘em?" Wick shouted at her.
"Yeah, just a minute." Ryan grabbed the roll and carefully lifted Bell’s
wrist, wrapping it tight. The blood was coming through the gauze, but the
bleeding had begun to slow with the pressure. She tied it off tightly and
started to push herself out as a line of engines and other rescue vehicles
pulled up.
"Wick? Ryan? Where are you?" Durfee shouted, barely waiting for the engine to
come to a complete stop before jumping out.
"Over here, Captain!" Wick shouted, waving from behind the fence.
Durfee ran up to him, still surveying the scene. "People, we need to cut this
down!" he ordered. Sanchez and Manetti grabbed electric saws and began to cut
through. Three other firefighters tugged at the portion of fence until it was
completely cleared. Durfee stepped through and looked hard at Wick. "How
bad?" he asked.
Wick shook his head. "Bad, sir…truck driver’s dead and Bell’s unconscious."
He led Durfee to the front of the R.A.
"Sweet Jesus…" Durfee breathed.
Wick pointed at the semi. "We need that outta the way, so we can get to Bell."
Ryan ran up. "Sir, Bell is seriously injured. I tried going up over the hood,
but there’s just not enough room."
Durfee nodded. "All right…" he looked at the crowd of men and women coming
towards him. "People, we need to move that truck! 77 and 29, I want you to…
