"Station 77, "Station 77, role call," the dispatch said over the radio. Hesitantly,
Durfee
responded.
"One absent. Senior Paramedic, Kathleen Ryan,"
"Thank you,"
"Do either of you know where she is?" Durfee asked. It was unlike her to be
tardy. They looked at each other and shook their heads.
"Sorry, Cap," Ryan said from behind them. Her hair was pulled back sloppily
and she had huge bags under her eyes. Wick shot her a worried look. Durfee
looked her over.
"Ryan, you look like hell," he said. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing Cap," she lied. "Just had a rough night.
"Yeah, I bet," one of the firefighters muttered.
"Go Ryan!" another yelled.
"What? I'm lost," Rodriguez chimed in.
"Ryan got herself a man last night," Bridges filled in.
"Damn," Rodriguez said. "There goes my chance,"
"Enough!" Durfee yelled at them. He turned back to Ryan. "What is the
matter with you?" he demanded.
"I . . . I just didn't get enough sleep last night," she told the captain.
Her whole night had consisted of getting up and vomiting, followed by
restless sleep filled with macabre and eerie dreams.
"Okay . . . why don't you try and get some sleep?" he suggested. She nodded
and walked to the medic bedroom, ignoring the looks her partners were giving
her. Wick's full of concern, and Bell's full of puzzlement. Laying on her
bed, she rolled on her side. Her head still hurt a little, but at least she
could stand without vomiting.
A soft knock came on the door and Wick poked in his head. "Hey," he said
softly. "Can I come in?"
"Well, sure. It's your room, too," she chuckled softly. He grinned and came
in, shutting the door behind him.
"How are you doing?" he asked, his voice thick with concern.
"I'll be okay. Thank you," she told him. "For everything. For last night,
for . . . keeping my secret,"
"It's not that big a secret," he teased, and she smiled.
"I'm uh . . . going to the doctor after shift change tomorrow. There's
something I haven't exactly told you. I had more than one bottle of liquor
last night. Truth is . . . I had four or five . . ." Wick stared at her in
open shock and amazement.
"What? Oh, my God, Ryan," he exclaimed sharply. "Why didn't tell me?"
"I'm sorry. I really am. I know I should have told you, but I couldn't,"
tears filled her eyes. "Wick, I'm really scared. I just . . . couldn't stop
. . . drinking," tears were now streaming down her cheeks. He grabbed her
hand and held it inside his. With his other hand, he wiped away the tears.
He hugged her, his hand still grasping hers. He held her for what seemed
like hours until Bell knocked on the door. He opened it and peeked in, and
saw Ryan's eyes red-rimmed and her face swollen.
"What is going on here?" he demanded. She wiped her eyes the rest of the
way and stood up.
"It's nothing, Bell. I'll . . . uh . . . I'll tell you later," she
promised. He shook his head in disgust.
"I really hate secrets," he told them, "but . . . oh, never mind," he
slammed the door.
"Oh, God. I don't want this to be real. I want to wake up and have this all
be one bad dream," she moaned, burying her head in his chest. He wrapped his
arms around her and she cried again.
"It's okay. It's okay. I understand. We'll get through this. I'll be right
here beside you the whole time. I'm not going to let you go through this
alone," he promised. The electronic alert went off.
"Station 77, Station 29, Station 41, Battalion 9, Rescue 4. Respond to car
accident. 162 Lincoln Street Cross Ventura. Time out 8:47."
"Let's go," he said, pulling her to her feet. They ran out to the ambulance
where Bell was already sitting in the driver's seat. Ryan climbed in the
back, and Wick in the front. "Okay. We're ready to rodeo," he said.
They pulled out and headed down the street. About ten minutes later, they
pulled up to the scene of a major car collision. Ryan counted five cars on
the road, and four cars off the road. "Got the trauma bag?" she called to
Bell.
"Yeah," they were the first on the scene and quickly evaluated the
seriousness of the cars.
"I'll start over here," Ryan yelled. "Wick, go to the cars off the road!
Bell, start on that side. We'll work our way to the middle!" she ordered.
The first car Ryan checked had only an infant in the backseat. Quickly
checking its vitals, and searching its tiny body for injuries, she slapped a
tag on the car hood. "We have a one over here!" she called. More rigs were
quickly arriving, and numbers were being yelled.
"Ryan!" Wick called frantically. "You gotta come over here!" he yelled.
Slapping a tag on a Ford GT, she ran over to Wick. It's your sister,"
****
"My sister?" she asked in disbelief. "Monica?" her face was calm, but her
eyes registered fear.
"I'm afraid so," Wick said. He moved ever so slightly so she could see the
person inside the damaged car.
Sure enough, inside the twisted heap of metal and glass, she saw Monica,
her head resting on the steering wheel. Blood was gushing out of a wound to
her shoulder. Her legs were trapped under the dashboard, and her feet
weren't visible.
"Immediate!" Ryan yelled. She knew it was going to take work to extricate
her sister. Tearing herself away from the car, she hurried over to a truck
on its side. She hopped up onto the door and peered in the window. Leaning
in, she checked the driver's pulse. "Fatality!" she called, placing an
orange sticker on the door.
"Rodriguez we need to get that girl out of the car ASAP," Wick said.
"Okay. Let's have Captain check it out," he hurried over to Durfee.
"Captain, the girl in the Ford Explorer needs to come out,"
"I'll take a look,"
Going over to the totaled vehicle, he called orders for the electric
saw.....
§*§*§*§*§*§*§*§*§*§*
"Your sister is going to be fine, Kathleen," Dr. Caulfield said. "She
suffered minor injuries to the left leg, and she dislocated her shoulder.
There was a gash on her shoulder that we had trouble controlling the
bleeding on, but other than that, she's fine,"
"Thank you," Ryan said. "I really needed to hear that," Joanne patted her
on the back and smiled. Bell came up to her and put his arm around her
waist. He lead her back out to the R.A.
"Hey. How are ya doin'?" Wick asked. "How's Monica?"
"She's going to be all right. She's awake and in a bad mood, as usual,"
Ryan commented. He looked at her, probing her eyes. She was upset.
They drove back to the station where Durfee met them at the entrance.
"Well, you guys, there's someone you should meet. She's in here," they went
into the TV area where about ten firemen were gathered around a woman they
had never seen before.
She was strikingly beautiful with long curly red hair and pale blue eyes.
She was about 5'6 and was very skinny, yet somehow had a great figure.
"This," Durfee began, "is Sonja Whitter. She transferred from Station 43 in
Beverly Hills," he explained. "This is Kathleen Ryan, Wick Lobo, and Michael
Bell," he introduced. They all shook hands.
"Hi," Sonja said in a soft voice.
"Hello," Wick said, his eyes roaming over her. His hormone regulator was on
overload.
"Uh, hi," Bell said. He was checking her out majorly, and he felt guilty.
"Nice to meet you," Ryan said. She was really thinking, ‘Oh, great. All
these guys need is a perfect woman prancing around the station. she was
trying to conceal her jealousy, be she doubted it was working.
"Yeah, you too. I'm gonna change," she said, waving her hand towards the
restroom.
"I'll help," Wick offered. Bell snorted and Ryan rolled her eyes in
disgust.
"Pay no attention to Bonehead over here," Ryan told her. "It's been
awhile," Wick shot her a hurt look and Sonja laughed. She headed off to
change and Bell burst out laughing.
"Wick, my friend, you are totally pathetic," he said. Angry, Wick stomped
into the kitchen where he stopped dead in his tracks. Several firefighters
were sitting around the game table . . . drinking something out of small
Styrofoam cups.
"What are you guys drinking?" he demanded, his panic level rising.
"A beer, Wicky-Woo. You want one?" Bridges teased.
"Man, get that shit outta here now!" he yelled. He picked up the cups from
the table and poured them down the tiny sink. Many protests arose from the
group, but he didn't care. He continued to grab and pour beer after beer
until the game room was alcohol free. But there was still the rest of the
sation . . .
"Wick, you are nuts! Get the hell outta here!" Rodriguez shoved him out of
the room. If only they could understand . . .
§*§*§*§*§*§
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather be playing poker?" Ryan asked Wick.
"Nah, man, Bridges is out for blood," he joked. She chuckled softly. "Have
you talked to your mom recently?" he asked, his voice becoming more somber.
"Well, I talked to her today . . . about Monica. But as for David? No . .
." she was winging her hands together, and Wick could tell this was starting
to get to her too badly.
"So . . . what do you think of Sonja?" he asked changing the subject.
"I think she's a Barbie Doll," Ryan responded honestly. "She's just so
pretty and perfect," she smiled softly, "and short . . ." Wick had to laugh
at that one.
He looked at her, just sitting there. Her hair was loose, and swept
carelessly around her bare shoulders. Her eyes reflected pain, and dolor,
yet the slightest twinge of happiness. He took her hand in his own and
caressed the side of her face softly. She tilted her head in slightly and
smiled. "No. She's not perfect. You know why not?"
"You got me, Wick. Why not?" she said teasingly.
"Because she'll never be you," their eyes locked and Ryan replayed in her
mind the moment in the chemical plant when she had kissed him. She knew deep
down that those feelings she had felt for him that night had to have stemmed
from something. She didn't want to believe it, but now . . .
It just felt right the way he leaned in slowly, his warm breath in her ear.
She felt like she was doing the right thing by letting her body mold into
his. "She'll never have your smile, your grace, your beauty . . ." he
whispered provocatively. he searched her eyes for one small clue that she
wanted him to kiss her . . .
