Engine Trouble by Mary Cull The rains came down fiercely, pummeling the city of Los Angeles with an unfamiliar fury. Southern Californians, seemingly not used to such increment weather, had virtually been stopped dead in their tracks, sending the crew of Station 51 out numerous times that morning. They had just backed their vehicles in the bay after responding to yet another fender-bender and now all six members sauntered into the kitchen to warm up. Paramedic Johnny Gage was first to the coffee pot, picking it up he made a fresh pot for himself and his team mates to enjoy. His partner, Roy DeSoto, joined him at the counter as Firefighters Chet Kelly, Marco Lopez and Mike Stoker pulled up chairs and wearily slumped down at the table. Captain Hank Stanley poked his head into the kitchen and replied, "I call first for the shower, and nobody better disagree!" The smell of the pouring coffee was inviting and even though they were drenched from the rain, the rest of the men waited. "Wow, what a terrible day this is turning out to be," Johnny replied, staring at the coffee, willing it to drip faster. He, like the others, was wet and cold and wanted nothing more than a hot cup of the brew, a shower and fresh, dry clothes. Roy nodded, glancing at his watch. "And it's only 10:30. Why is it people don't think to slow down a bit when we get rain here?" Johnny shook his head, feeling the goosebumps grow on his arms. "I don't know, but I sure wish they would. It would mean less call-outs for us and maybe we could actually get through the shift without having to change five times!" Chet Kelly looked miserably over towards the coffee maker. "Gage, is that coffee ready or what?" he asked. Annoyed, Johnny stared at him and muttered, "Be patient, it can only drip so fast!" Everyone was tired and chilled and in less than good spirits. Outside, the loud crackle of thunder could be heard and the sound of the rain falling came louder, faster, harder. The men groaned. What seemed like an eternity later, Johnny grabbed the full coffeepot and started pouring the dark liquid into cups. He passed it around, where everyone helped themselves, grateful, but too tired and irritable to say anything. Cap walked into the kitchen just then, clean and dry, and smiling, took the cup of coffee Johnny had poured for himself from the young paramedic's hand. Gage made a face, but wisely said nothing, reaching back to the pot and grabbing another cup. Roy took a quick sip, then made his way to the door as Johnny went to sit down at the table with the others. "I'm next for the shower," Roy replied and hurried towards the bathroom. But he didn't quite make it as the klaxon tones went off just then. Sighing, he walked back to the squad, listening to the dispatcher's voice, as the others grumpily left the kitchen for the emergency vehicles. "Station 51, car over cliff. Road 18, South Mountain Canyon. Road 18, South Mountain Canyon. Be advised you will be responding alone. Time out 10:38." Moments later, the squad and engine headed out in the blinding rains towards the long haul in the mountains. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* As the men drove towards their incident, heading into the eerily foggy hills, they could see the rain diminishing. But the dirt roads they were driving on were now muddy little ravines, slippery and in places, nearly impassable.  Roy slowed the squad somewhat, in order to maneuver it safely as they made their way higher along the winding mountain road. He looked in his side mirror, noticing the engine right behind him. "I think it's just up a bit now. I'll watch for exit marks and a break in the fence," Johnny said, looking up ahead as much as he could. Roy barely heard him. He was using all his concentration, trying hard to keep the squad on the muddy road. It was increasingly difficult and as they rounded another bend, both men could feel the truck sliding towards the small white fence that was their only safety barrier, signaling the drop over the cliffside. Applying the brakes, Roy suddenly turned white when he realized they weren't slowing down. Too close behind them, Mike drove Engine 51, also having difficulty keeping his vehicle on the road. Too late he saw the brake lights of the squad, and slammed down hard on his brakes, but his efforts did nothing. The heavy engine merely slid, crashing full-force into the squad. Captain Stanley watched in fear as the force of the engine pushed the squad easily off the muddy road and sent it spiraling through the small fence and down the hill, out of their immediate range of vision. Skillfully, Mike steered the big rig to safety back on the road, avoiding the same fate as their crew members in front of them. As soon as the engine came to a rest, the four firefighters ran towards the cliff, staring down in fear and disbelief. After ascertaining everyone from the fire engine had escaped injury, Captain Stanley reached for his handy-talkie, practically yelling into it. "L.A. Engine 51. Be advised Squad 51 has been involved in an accident near the same location as our incident. They have gone over the cliff. Please respond another engine company, paramedics, police, and two ambulances. We are going to try to find them and the other car. Will advise as soon as we have more details." "Engine 51, ten-four. ...Station 116, respond to car over cliff with Station 51, Road 18, South Mountain Canyon. Road 18, South Mountain Canyon. TIme out 11:02." For a moment, Stanley's head swam. He knew his paramedics were in trouble, most likely seriously injured, and scanning below noticed with deep dread that they were not visible from where the firefighters stood at the top of the hill. But he also knew his duty and first priority was to find the people whose car had gone over and assess their injuries. He ran back to the engine, shaking his head as the rain began to pour again, and lightning could be seen in the sky. "Okay, we are going to find that other car first. Everyone back in the engine," Cap ordered, against his personal judgement. "But Cap, Johnny...Roy...," Mike began, feeling great pangs of guilt. "I have to see...it's all my fault!" the quiet engineer murmured. Hank Stanley knew Stoker could not avoid the collision. He gave his engineer a pat on the back. "C'mon, Mike, we have to search for the other victims first. We need help and when we get it, we'll come back here to the squad. Let's go." Forlornly, the three men knew their captain was right and, having no other choice, headed back into the rig to locate the missing victims of their car incident. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* Roy DeSoto woke up and groggily opened his eyes. His left leg was intensely paining him and his head ached. For a few seconds he couldn't remember where he was or why he suddenly hurt so much. Then it all came flooding back to him. The engine had collided with them, sending them over the steep cliff as they were making their way towards a rescue. He glanced to his right, expecting to see his partner next to him in the truck, and blanched when he realized the passenger door of the squad was wide open and there was no sign of Johnny. Feeling his heart in his throat, Roy attempted to open his door, but it was badly damaged and he couldn't budge it. He made an effort to move towards the passenger side, but cried out in pain when he realized his leg was caught under the smashed steering wheel and dashboard. Roy looked down and saw the large gash just above his knee and the blood spitting out of the wound.  The paramedic in him felt for breaks in his limbs, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he did not appear to have any. But he knew he would need to free himself in order to get out and help Johnny. Roy looked around, assessing the situation. He saw that the squad had come to land right side up, but was facing downwards, front end graciously stopped from further descent by a large tree and shrubbery. Had it not been for this tree, the squad would have undoubtedly continued down the cliff another seventy-five feet to where the paramedics would have met with certain death. At least he was still alive, Roy surmised. He shivered suddenly, wondering in fear and desperation how his partner had fared, and vaguely remembered the fast trip going over the cliff, rolling several times before he had passed out. The darkened sky was suddenly brightly lit up with the appearance of white lightning, seconds later followed by a loud boom of thunder. It was a huge, jagged bolt close to where they were and was low to the ground. Startled, Roy jumped as he continued trying to free himself. He looked around, wondering where help was, and realized that the engine crew had been forced to leave them to look for the other victims. God only knew when help would arrive. Where's Johnny? the auburn-haired medic wondered fearfully to himself, scanning the trees and brush around him, desperate for any sign of his partner.  But he could see nothing. Struggling amidst the pain, DeSoto tried sliding his leg out from under the dash, but he felt the metal only digging deeper into him. Damn it! I need help and I need it now! he screamed into his mind. Finally, he found his voice, and with as much effort as he could muster, he yelled, "Johnny? Johnny! Can you hear me?" Roy strained his ears to try to hear, but the only sounds audible to him were the pinging of the rain on the squad and the growling of the thunder. He grabbed his microphone, but tossed it away when he saw the radio had been crushed in the accident. It was useless to him, and he was now angry. Angry that it was raining, angry that the engine had struck them, angry that he couldn't seem to get his leg out from under the dash and angry that Johnny was missing. He couldn't just sit around and wait for help to come. He had to do something, Johnny could be in critical condition, desperate for medical aid. Grabbing his left leg, ignoring the agonizing pain, Roy forced his limb out from under the dashboard, his joy at having finally freed himself turning to despair upon seeing the large, gaping wound. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* "Look, over there! The fence is all busted up, Mike stop!" Hank Stanley ordered. Thankfully, they had only driven about a half mile when they located the area where the vehicle from their incident had obviously gone over the embankment. Stoker, white as a sheet, still feeling great pangs of guilt and worried half to death about his friends, pulled the engine to a stop. It slid in the mud again, but the weight of the vehicle allowed it to stop without much difficulty. Chet, Marco and Cap rushed out of the vehicle, while Mike froze, his feelings making his mind go blank for the moment. He noticed as Cap stole a glance at the front damage to the engine, shook his head, and waved at him. Quickly, the engineer made his way out of the truck with wobbly legs, and tried to forget that they had just abandoned their friends and crewmates, not even knowing whether they were alive or dead. Duty...our duty is to our friends, who I might have just killed!  The guilty thoughts re-entered Stoker's mind, and he struggled with his emotions, but he grabbed rope and helped as Chet and Marco harnessed up for the descent down to the car. He secured the ropes to the damaged front bumper of the engine and watched as Kelly and Lopez made their way down the hill. The blue sedan, approximately fifty feet below, was just barely visible from the top where they were standing, and they all knew the rescue would not be an easy one. The cliffside was covered in trees and bushes and the rain had made it muddy and slippery, a dangerous terrain to endure. Mike watched in silence as his friends slid downwards, trying to avoid colliding with the many obstacles along their way. He looked down the road, wishing that Station 116 would hurry up and get there, but it would likely still be at least fifteen minutes before their arrival. Soaked, and covered in mud and grime, Chet reached the overturned blue car first and ran to the driver's side door, peering inside. He could see a middle-aged man, slumped at the wheel. Marco made his way over to the passenger side, glancing in, trying not to get sick as the sight of the woman, her face bloodied and practically missing, met his eyes. Slowly, he reached into the smashed opened window and grabbed her wrist, but he already knew she was dead. His suspicions confirmed, Marco slid through the mud around the other side to where Chet had just opened the driver's door and was checking his victim for life signs. Looking at Marco, shaking his head, Chet reached inside his coat for his handy-talkie. "Cap, this is Kelly. Both victims are DOA. Can you pull us up?" "Ten-four, Kelly, hold on," Stanley replied as he and Mike strained to pull the two firefighters back up the hill. Marco went down, slipping in the mud at one point, slightly injuring his knee on a rock, but he lifted himself up without complaint, his thoughts drifting to what had happened to Johnny and Roy a half mile back. As soon as his two firemen were hauled back up the cliff, Stanley got on the mike, as they began to drive back towards the area where Squad 51 had gone over.   "L.A. Engine 51, be advised the vehicle over the hill has two victims, both Code F. Coroner requested. Cancel one ambulance. Do you have an ETA yet on police and Station 116?" "Engine 51, L.A. ETA on Station 116 minimum six minutes. The rain and washed out roads are making it difficult. Be advised the police cruiser dispatched to your location has stopped to aid the victims of another vehicle accident. ETA unknown. Station 116 reports ambulance is following them." "L.A. Engine 51, ten-four," Stanley muttered into the microphone. He glanced worriedly over at his pale engineer as they made their way back to the scene where they had last seen the squad go over the embankment. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* In the downpour, amidst the dancing lightning and loud banging of thunder, Roy limped painfully along the area where they had come to a stop in the small lip over the mountain. He had torn his shirt and made a makeshift bandage for his leg, not even thinking about getting something from the squad's damaged side panels, in his frantic quest to search for his partner.  But he was nowhere to be seen and had not answered his many cries. Again, the auburn-haired paramedic called, dropping to his knees, crawling along the muck, his wounded leg stretched out and dragging, hoping against all hope that he would find Gage, and soon. "Johnny, Johnny, where are you?" DeSoto cried out as loud as he could. Breathless, by this point, his energy level diminished, soaking wet, in pain and freezing, Roy felt the tears well up in his eyes. Frustration grabbed a hold of him and he looked around, wiping the water from his eyes, straining to see in the heavy rains. Another crack of lightning again made him jump and he watched in fear as the bolt hit down, a mere thirty feet from where he was crouched on the ground. Had it not been for the rain, the lightning would have most certainly started a fire in the brush. He could smell the smoke that had been created by the electrical charge. "Johnny! Johnny?!" he shouted. The lightning was getting dangerously close and he knew he would have to find his partner and take cover. Jesus, where is my help? the senior medic wondered in desperation. Carrying on, Roy continued crawling, dragging his injured left leg, towards a thick patch of shrubs, and watching the small pool of water that had been created by the rain. As he moved closer to it, his eyes caught the familiar light blue color of a firefighter's shirt and he hauled himself towards it as quickly as he could, ignoring his own pain, the trepidation he felt for his partner's life and safety overruling all thoughts about himself. "Johnny! Johnny!" DeSoto yelled as he moved in closer. Gage was lying half on his side, half on his stomach, left arm outstretched and right arm bent unnaturally underneath him in the murky water, his back towards Roy as he reached him. The older medic crawled around and noticed, panic stricken, that Johnny was face-first in about a foot of water. Grabbing him and turning him on his back, pulling him out of the muck, Roy quickly saw Johnny had involuntarily aspirated, and was in respiratory arrest, his face a pale bluish tinge. At the same time, he looked up and noticed three firemen making their way down the cliff towards him. "Damn it, Johnny!" Roy cried out, starting mouth-to-mouth respirations on his best friend. He stopped for only a second to yell to Chet, Marco and Mike so that they would know their location. As he continued with artificial respiration, Roy monitored Johnny's breathing ability. One by one, his three crew-mates ran over and knelt down, watching as DeSoto performed this life-saving technique, in desperation, on his best friend. They all felt useless and knew Johnny was in serious condition by the look they saw on the older paramedic's face. For what seemed like hours later, they were rewarded when they saw a gurgle of water escape from Johnny's bluish-toned lips, his limp body jolting slightly as he expelled the dirty liquid, but he remained unconscious. Roy noticed with gratefulness some of the color had returned to his partner's face. "He's breathing now," DeSoto muttered with visible relief, now quickly checking his partner for other injuries. Stoker did a silent assessment on the older man, noticing his torn shirt, the makeshift, light-blue bandage wrapped around his leg, stained red, and the blood dripping slowly down his forehead. "Roy, you're hurt, let me help you," he offered, but DeSoto shook his head, insisting he would be okay until they got to the hospital. "Look, I can handle it. Hey, we're gonna need a backboard, stokes, oxygen and c-collar. From the squad, see if you can get it. I don't know how much damage there is...it may all be destroyed," Roy advised, ignoring the look of concern Mike was giving him, as he continued feeling Gage's limbs for signs of injury. Chet and Marco ran to the demolished vehicle for the required items. "Looks like his right arm is fractured, he has some kind of head injury. Legs look okay," the paramedic observed out loud, too preoccupied to notice the look of dread pasted on Mike Stoker's face. Moments later, Chet and Marco returned with the supplies, along with the drug and trauma boxes and the biophone. Luckily, the supplies were still safe inside the side panels and did not appear to be damaged. Mike got on the biophone to Rampart General Hospital as his crewmates worked to get a still-unconscious Gage onto the backboard. "Rampart, this is Squad 51, do you read me?" Stoker replied into the receiver, desperate for help and still feeling like all of this was his fault. He sincerely hoped Johnny would be okay, not knowing what he would do should the young paramedic not survive. But he wiped those thoughts out of his mind as he waited impatiently for an answer from the hospital. "Rampart, this is Squad 51, do you read?" Mike asked again, his voice unusually demanding, watching now as Roy wrapped Johnny's injured arm. He checked his eyes for pupilary response, shielding them from the rain, swearing softly at the foul weather when another bright flash of lightning struck the ground only a mere few feet away. "Roy, Rampart isn't answering!" the engineer shouted above the loud crackle of thunder. "C'mon, we have to get the hell out of here, before we're all electrocuted!" Roy replied. "I can't work on him here!"  Grabbing the handy-talkie from Chet, DeSoto called up to Stanley, who was still waiting impatiently at the top of the embankment. "Cap, this is Roy. We have to come up now. We can't get a hold of Rampart and the lightning is too close! We're gonna carry Gage up now!" "Okay, Roy, the ambulance is here and so is  Engine 116, let me know if you need help down there," Hank replied, concern mounting for his men, but most of all for Johnny, whom he knew was badly injured, but did not know to what extent. Impatiently, the fire captain waited, wiping away the water from his face and grimacing as yet another bright bolt of lightning graced the darkened skies. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* Getting to the top of the cliff was no easy matter. Roy's leg was still bleeding and intensely painful, despite their attempts to more thoroughly re-bandage his wound. DeSoto knew it was a deep cut, but didn't think the artery had been perforated, realizing that if it had, he would have surely bled out by now.  He needed help himself getting up the slippery mountain and it was a very slow go, but the rain had eased up considerably. Engine 116's crew had finally made it to the scene and were helping with the ropes, getting the men up the muddy embankment. Captain Stanley had been informed by dispatch that Squad 116 had been forced to stop along the way as they witnessed yet another traffic accident  with injuries and could not carry on to this incident. The ambulance attendants got out of their vehicle and waited for the firefighters to reach the top. Finally, the men of Station 51 made their way back up to the muddy topside road, carrying an injured John Gage in the stokes. Just as they set the  paramedic down on the roadside, a long, brilliant streak of lightning appeared, followed by an almost deafening boom of thunder. The lightning struck the squad, and looking down briefly, the men saw the truck instantly catch fire. The fire was short-lived however, as the accompanying torrential downpour washed the flames out almost instantly. They wasted no time attempting once again to reach Rampart on the biophone. After what seemed an eternity, just about giving up, they heard the distinctive voice of Dr. Kelly Brackett on the other end. The rain abruptly slowed down once again, allowing them some relief while they worked on Gage. In the distance, blue skies could now be seen, peaking their way out around the few remaining dark, diminishing clouds. "Go ahead, 51, we read you." "Rampart, we are at the scene of two separate vehicle accidents. Three victims, two DOA," Stoker replied, locking eyes for a second with Roy who had not yet been informed that the occupants of the other vehicle were dead. He had assumed as much as soon as Chet, Marco and Mike had found him down the cliff, but the moment of urgency regarding Johnny's respiratory arrest had blocked everything else from his mind. Now, for a second, DeSoto wished there were something he could have done to help the other people, but realizing that was not possible, he focused his attention on his partner, who was still showing no signs of coming around. "Victim is a 27 year old paramedic, injured when the squad he was in...went over the cliff. He was thrown from the vehicle, Rampart. He has been unconscious for an estimated 30 minutes and when found was lying face down in a pool of water, we do not know for how long. He was in respiratory arrest and started breathing on his own after artificial respiration was administered. We have him on six liters of oxygen. He has a broken right arm, which has been immobilized, Rampart. Stand by for vitals," Mike finished, speaking clearly into the biophone. "Ten-four, 51, standing by," came Dr. Brackett's response. Roy looked grave as he took Johnny's blood pressure, pulse, respirations and listened to his breath sounds. "BP 100/65, pulse 120, resps are 30, labored and shallow. Picking up bilateral rales, he must've ingested some of that bad, murky water. Pupils are slightly unequal, but reactive." Mike repeated this information and Dr. Brackett ordered an IV, ringers lactate. As Roy went about establishing the IV, Captain Stanley spoke to the captain of Engine 116, Jason Weaver. He asked Captain Weaver if his crew could extricate the lifeless victims of the car that had crashed up the road, just as the coroner's wagon pulled up alongside them. Weaver agreed and left with his men, the coroner following behind. A few minutes later, Johnny was ready for transport to the hospital. He stirred slightly when they lifted him into the ambulance, but after opening his eyes for a mere few seconds, he was out again, worrying his crewmates all over. Nobody noticed that the rain had stopped, the clouds had disappeared, and the sun was now out, shining brightly. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* During the long, bumpy ride to the hospital, Roy monitored Johnny's ability to breathe and his level of consciousness. He located a large bump on the side of Gage's head just above his right ear. He also had numerous cuts and scrapes, an especially severe one on his right shoulder that Roy was having difficulty trying to control the bleeding. Momentarily, the auburn-haired medic assessed his own injuries, noting that his cut to his leg had stopped bleeding finally and that his level of pain had diminished. His head still throbbed, but he knew he had to keep focused on Johnny in the event his condition grew worse. Attempting pain stimuli on his partner, Roy informed Rampart that Johnny gave a feeble response, moaning softly. He palpated his midsection, looking for any internal injuries, glad to see his abdomen was soft. Johnny's lungs were beginning to sound rough, wheezing apparent in both. "Just a bit further, Junior, hold on," DeSoto muttered, patting his best friend's shoulder. He crouched up, looking to the front at the driver. "Hey, what is our ETA to Rampart?" he yelled out. "Five minutes," came the reply. The other ambulance attendant, accompanying him in the back with Johnny, looked concerned when Gage suddenly came to, and lifted the oxygen mask off his face. He was staring intently at Roy. "Roy, what happened? You...you're hurt," he muttered amongst heavy wheezes, attempting to get up off the stretcher. "Easy, Junior, lie back down. You're hurt worse," DeSoto said keeping his hand on Gage's chest so that he was unable to rise. The ambulance attendant replaced the oxygen mask over Johnny's nose and mouth. Johnny ignored them, once again removing the mask. He pushed Roy's hand away and tried to sit up, but his injured, immobilized right arm would not move and he cried out in pain. "Johnny, don't move, your arm is broken," Roy advised, noting that his partner was getting somewhat riled up. "I have to get up...now," Gage demanded. For a moment, confusion set in and all he could think about was that Roy was injured and needed his help. He quickly swung his legs off the stretcher and not thinking, pulled out his IV.  The ambulance attendant attempted to hold him down and suddenly angry, Johnny struck him in the face, somewhat awkwardly with his left hand. "Let me up! My friend is hurt, I...have to help...I have to help...him!" Gage wheezed, having increasing difficulty breathing. Roy knew this sudden change in demeanor was not a good sign. He tried to hold Johnny down, talking to him soothingly. "Look, Johnny, I'm okay...you have to settle down here. Please settle down," Roy begged, struggling to keep his partner down. Gage fought with as much strength as he could muster, but he soon lost the battle. His breaths were coming in short, wheezy gasps and a panicked expression came over his face. The attendant once again replaced the oxygen mask as they felt the ambulance backing up, obviously to the emergency entrance at Rampart. Roy let the breath out that he had been holding and watched in silent dread as his partner once again lost consciousness and went into respiratory arrest. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* Mike Stoker was beside himself with guilt as he unwillingly drove the fire engine back after their run. They were heading towards Rampart Emergency not knowing how serious Johnny's condition was, or if he had even survived this far. The quiet engineer wished one of the other men could drive the truck, but he dared not ask Captain Stanley. He knew Chet and Marco were not licensed and he didn't want to seem like he was abandoning his duties, but he had no desire to drive the rig now....or ever again for that matter. In fact, as they rode along in silence, Mike was deciding that he would quit his job as soon as they went back to the station. Hank Stanley knew his men well enough and could tell Mike was deeply disturbed by what had happened. He made attempts to talk to the younger man, knowing he was one of the best engineers the Fire Department had. "Michael, look, this...what happened...it isn't your fault," Hank started, shooting a glance over towards the handsome Stoker, trying to silently assess his frame of mind. Mike hesitated, too worried to answer at first. He kept his focus on the wet, water-covered road. Then, he let out a deep breath and looked at his superior for a split second. In that second their eyes locked and Stanley could see the pain and guilt the dark-haired engineer was experiencing. "Cap, it is my fault. You were here! I was...following too close, going too fast, " Mike responded, even more quieter then usual, feeling an uncomfortable lump growing in his throat. "I don't know what I'm going to do if...if Johnny doesn't make it." "Michael, don't talk that way. You're absolutely right, I was here.  And I know it was unavoidable. The road was a mess, practically washed out. It is not your fault the engine slid and the roads were bad. Don't blame yourself. No charges are going to be made against you, Michael. And...Johnny is going to be just fine," Cap replied softly, attempting to convince himself as much as the engineer. "You don't know that, Cap! What I did...driving this big, red rig...I could be responsible for killing my good friend! And...Roy, he's hurt too, who knows how badly! He wouldn't let me help him back there, Cap! He probably figured I would only do more damage. And I don't blame him, he probably hates me right now. Cap, when we get back, you'll find my letter of resignation on your desk. I'm done. I'm just done..." "Mike, now listen. You will do no such thing. We're a family here at Station 51. And families stick together. Do you understand?" Stanley asked, in a voice full of authority, demanding no arguments. Stoker opened his mouth, ready to retort, but thought wiser of it. He needed to see how the paramedics were doing and they were almost at Rampart. He would still quit his job, knowing Hank could not force him to stay, but it would depend upon whether Johnny lived or died. The engineer of Station 51 made a silent deal with God right then and there. Please let Johnny live and be okay, and I'll think about keeping my job. He dies and I will walk, I will never look back and I will never be a firefighter again. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* At Rampart, Johnny was quickly wheeled into Exam Room 2. Dr.'s Brackett and Morton, along with Head nurse, Dixie McCall and another nurse waited. Roy was grappled with fear as they took his partner off the ambulance stretcher and put him on an examining table. His body was limp and unresponsive. "Doc, he just went into respiratory arrest," DeSoto advised, the concern evident in his cracking voice. "And he woke up momentarily, became combative and ripped out his IV." "Okay, start another IV. Mike, we'll have to intebate him. Lungs sound rough. And we'll need to monitor his heart. Better patch him in too, Carol," Brackett ordered the nurse, continuing to examine the dark-haired paramedic. "Dixie, can you get a new set of vitals?" Dr. Morton asked, and went about starting an esophageal airway. While everyone worked feverishly on Gage, in an effort to stabilize him, his heart rate suddenly dived and he went into cardiac arrest. "V-fib!" Brackett advised, and instantly grabbed the paddles, waiting for the charge. At 400 watts, he shocked Gage's lifeless body and stood back, noticing with relief the conversion had been successful. Roy was sweating profusely and nobody noticed he had become shaky and pale. He took a few steps back and as the room started to spin, fell suddenly to the floor. Dixie ran to him, checking his vitals and asking for help. Mike Morton joined her and together they got the unconscious paramedic on a second gurney. "Damn, he's got some kind of head injury as well. Look at that leg wound, he must have lost a good amount of blood. Didn't anybody think to treat him at the scene?" Morton demanded, somewhat angrily, as he checked the paramedic's vital signs. "There was no one else. The other squad had to stop for an accident along the way. I guess...Roy knew Johnny was more critical then he was, and he had to be strong to save his life. The man is a hero," Dixie observed, getting DeSoto out of his wet and muddied clothes, wincing as she examined his deep leg wound. "Well, it's a miracle he managed to stay conscious this long.  Good thing though, there is no doubt in my mind, Gage would have died at the scene had Roy not been able to help him." Portable x-ray arrived and took pictures of both paramedic's injuries. Outside the room, the rest of Station 51 waited, rather impatiently, on news regarding the condition of their friends. After both were treated and stabilized, Dixie and Dr. Morton went outside to speak to them. Upon seeing them leave the room, all four firefighters stood up and immediately walked over, full of questions. "How is Johnny? Is Roy okay?" Captain Stanley demanded. "Roy lost consciousness inside the treatment room. He appears to have lost a great deal of blood from that leg injury. He'll need to go to surgery immediately to get stitched up, it's too deep a wound and he likely has tissue and nerve damage. Another centimeter and the artery would have been severed. He also is suffering from a mild concussion, but my guess is he'll be fine with a few weeks recovery," Dr. Morton informed them. The men breathed a collective sigh of relief, but the fact that the doctor did not mention how Johnny was doing did not get past them. Before anyone else could ask, Mike's heart skipped a beat and he moved forward. "Dr. Morton, is Johnny okay?" Morton's hesitation in answering nearly made the engineer throw up. He felt the nausea grow and turned a frightening shade of white. Dr. Morton recognized the symptoms, and reached out to grab Mike's shoulders, walking with him to the chairs in the waiting room.  After sitting him down, and getting him water, Stoker felt better, but repeated his question to the doctor. "Doctor, is Johnny okay?" "Well, right now Gage is in critical condition. He's on his way up to ICU. They are setting his broken right arm, but that is the least of his problems. He suffered a pretty severe blow to his head and right now we aren't sure if there will be any permanent damage due to the fact he was clinically dead when Roy found him. He swallowed and inhaled a lot of dirty water and we've had to insert a chest tube to try to drain the guck out of his lungs. His heart was affected from the near drowning, and he went into cardiac arrest, but we got him back. He's on some heavy-duty medications as severe pneumonia from the noxious substances he inhaled is a very real threat. I'm afraid he's a very sick young man," Dr. Morton concluded. "What are his chances?" Cap asked quietly, shooting a glance down towards his frightened and guilt-ridden engineer. "We don't know yet, but the next twenty-four hours will be critical. Look, why don't you guys get out of here and go get some rest. We'll let you know if there's any changes in either of them." Knowing all was being done for the paramedics and there was nothing they could do, the four firefighters left the hospital despairingly. Captain Stanley didn't even bother to ask Stoker if he wanted him to drive back to the station. He jumped right up in the driver's seat, and for the first time since the engine had been delivered to them several years ago, Cap drove and Mike sat in the back. He knew what he was going to do. It all seemed so hopeless for Johnny and he was to blame. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* When the crew got back to Station 51, Charlie, the Fire Department mechanic was waiting in the kitchen for them. Normally, he would have teasingly scolded Mike about the damage to the front end of the engine, but he knew none of the men were in the mood. Charlie was aware of the accident in the hills and that the two paramedics were gravely injured. The rain had dealt a heavy blow to drivers today, and he himself had almost been involved in a collision. The fact was nobody was at fault and the mechanic went out to inspect the damage without chastising anyone. He saw the engine was not severely damaged and Captain Stanley informed him the squad was a total loss. The two men sat down at the kitchen over cups of coffee and Charlie noticed Mike Stoker in a very somber mood. The mechanic took a sip of his coffee, nearly choked on it, and making a face went to sit next to the engineer in the dayroom. Mike was staring straight ahead, sitting on the couch next to Henry, their dog, obviously lost in thought. "Earth to Stoker, come in," Charlie said, smiling to lighten the mood. Mike looked at him, but did not comment or return his smile. Instead, the handsome young engineer stood up and walked silently out of the kitchen, staring at the floor, shaking his head grimly. Chet and Marco came into the room then, the concern and worry they felt noticeable on their faces.  "He's really upset about what happened," Chet replied, taking a cup of coffee and a seat at the table. "Ya think?" Charlie answered, his usual sarcasm returning. "What is it, he blaming himself for what happened?" Cap nodded. "I tried to talk to him, Charlie, but he wants to quit! I don't know what else to say to him. I told him this wasn't his fault, but he won't listen to me." "What exactly happened, Cap?" Charlie asked. "Well, we were up in the hills and the roads were practically wiped out. It was foggy and for some reason, the squad started to come to a stop. I think Roy was having trouble handling it up there in the mud. We saw it slide a few times. Anyway, Mike couldn't stop quickly enough. The engine gave him trouble and it slid forward into the back of the squad and pushed it right over the cliff." Charlie winced, visualizing the scene. "And Johnny and Roy...how bad are they hurt?" Cap continued. "Well, Roy'll be okay. He suffered a concussion and a bad leg wound, lost a lot of blood, but he managed to stay conscious long enough to treat Johnny and get him into the hospital. Johnny, on the other hand, was thrown from the squad and drowned when Roy found him. He resuscitated him, but his lungs are filled with bad water and he has a bad head injury. He is critical and the doctors don't know whether he's gonna make it or not. Mike is, well,... you saw for yourself." "I wish there was something we could say or do to convince him this wasn't his fault and we need him," Marco Lopez spoke up. "Well, I guess he has some thinking to do," Charlie replied. "Look, I have to get that engine out to the garage. I'll have a replacement here for you in a couple hours. In the meantime, I hope Mike is going to get through this, and my thoughts go out to Roy and Johnny." But Mike wasn't getting through this. He sat on his bunk, writing his letter of resignation, feeling in his heart that Johnny would die and he would shortly be leaving Station 51. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* Hours later, at Rampart General Hospital, Roy woke up, glancing around. Other than being somewhat disoriented, he was feeling a lot better and he knew that he had come out of surgery for his leg. A nurse stood nearby, writing something on a chart. He raised his hand to get her attention, momentarily not being able to use his voice. She moved closer and he realized he did not know her. She was in her mid-thirties and an attractive, petite brunette. "Oh, Mr. DeSoto, I see you're awake now. How are you feeling?" The auburn-haired medic ignored her question. He grabbed her arm, and in a hoarse whisper asked, "How...how's my partner?" The woman stared down at him and patted his hand with hers. "I'm sorry, Mr. DeSoto, I don't know anything about your partner. How are you doing? How is your pain? I can get you something for it, if it's bad." Roy cleared his throat. "My partner...John Gage, I need to know how he's doing, please, can you find out for me?" The nurse saw the look of despair in the patient's blue eyes and nodded. "Okay, wait and I'll go check on him."  With that, she left the room, returning a few minutes later with Dr. Early in tow. "Doc, how's Johnny? Is he okay? I need to know, good or bad," DeSoto replied, sitting up a bit in the bed. "Roy, relax. Johnny is holding his own. He's been in and out of consciousness. He's still on the danger list in ICU, but we're doing everything we can. We're hopeful we can control the fluid and damage to his lungs, but right now we're not sure he'll get through it. He inhaled a lot of mucky water and we don't know if his lungs are going to be able to recover. And there is always the threat of infection and/or pneumonia setting in."  Seeing the fearful look on DeSoto's face, Dr. Early patted his arm. "Look, I wish we had something more hopeful for you. But you know Johnny, he's always been a fighter and we should know more in the next day or so. Now, as for you, your leg surgery went great, we were able to repair the damage and it took 22 stitches to close you up. You'll be fine in a few weeks. By the way, what you did for Johnny, back there, was amazing. Without you, he wouldn't have survived at all. You totally saved his life, Roy." Roy slumped down on his pillow and looked away, saddened to hear that his best friend's chances of survival were slim. "I...I only wish I could've done more. I don't even know how long he was face-down in the water." The men looked up at the sound of someone entering the room. It was Captain Stanley and he walked slowly over to the bed. "How you feeling, Roy?" he asked and received a shrug for an answer. "Look, the guys are all here, but I was wondering if you could say something to Mike. He feels terrible about this and wants to quit the department. He is convinced John is going to die and that it is all his fault." Roy shook his head. "Send him in."  Stanley left, returning a minute later with a very depressed looking engineer. Before leaving the room, Dr. Early looked at his patient and the other two men and advised they could stay only a few minutes; DeSoto needed rest. "Mike, look, it wasn't your fault. Nobody blames you. If anything, it was my fault," Roy began. The despondent Stoker shook his head. "How was it your fault? I was the one driving the engine and had trouble stopping it." "I didn't give you much of a chance. I tried to slow down, but the squad just slid in the mud. It was terrible out there, Mike. It was an accident, nothing more. If only I had been faster finding Johnny...But look, Cap said you are thinking of quitting. You can't do that, Mike. We need you." The engineer stared at the floor. "I can't live doing this job if...if Johnny...dies," he replied quietly in a torn-up voice. Roy glanced at him sharply. "Johnny is not going to die! Do you hear me? He is not going to die!" "We were just up at ICU, Roy. He's in a pretty bad way. His lungs are a mess from the near drowning. They are monitoring his brain for swelling. I think the doctors are just feeding us platitudes so we don't worry as much." "Don't you give up, Mike. On Johnny, or yourself. You are a damn good engineer and he is going to be fine. You'll see," DeSoto remarked. "I don't know, Roy. Look, I guess we better get going, you look exhausted. I'll be back though. Take care," Stoker ended, walking out of the room with Captain Stanley following. "I want to see my partner," was all Roy whispered to the pretty nurse who entered, before he succumbed to the exhaustion that took over. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* The next day, Joanne, Roy's wife, was at Rampart visiting him when word of Johnny's crisis came to them, via Dr. Early. He entered DeSoto's hospital room, and told him the fluid build-up in Gage's lungs was worsening, he was weakening and showing signs of losing his battle for his life. Haunted by Joe's words, still having not yet been able to see Johnny, Roy was immediately taken by wheelchair up to the sixth floor ICU and into John's room. Gage was hooked up to a ventilator with various tubes snaking in and out of him. He was dreadfully pale and Roy could hear the intense wheezing coming from within his chest with every rise and fall. He was not conscious. The older medic reached out and grabbed his friend's left hand, trying to deal with the news that Johnny's chance of survival was grim. Still, Roy refused to give up hope. Dr. Brackett entered the room, his lip twitching as it always did when he was most concerned. He glanced at the much-despondent Roy, wishing he had something positive to say. "Doc, what's going on? His lungs sound terrible. What is being done?" DeSoto whispered, the lump in his throat making speech difficult. He looked up at the doctor through reddened eyes. "Roy, I have some very unfortunate news. Peripheral vasoconstriction...it's causing his lungs and heart to slowly shut-down. I've upped his medication dosage and introduced steroids, but if he doesn't take a turn for the better in the next couple of hours, well, it will mean certain death to Johnny," Brackett concluded quietly, looking at Roy with one of the most intense expressions the paramedic had ever seen. DeSoto realized the seriousness of the situation and tears welled up in his eyes. "No! He can't die...he can't! I won't let him, there has to be something more you can do!" Kel's gaze shifted from one paramedic to the other. "I'm sorry, Roy, everything possible is being done. I know you hold power of attorney for Johnny in the event of his death or a health crisis. I would think that, barring a miracle, he has only a couple hours left. You might want to get a hold of any family, if you know of any last wishes Johnny might have, you might want to consider..." Roy shook his head defiantly, stunned, unwilling to believe the surreal news Dr. Brackett had just told him. "No, Doc. He is going to get through this. I am not ready to let him go. And Mike Stoker will not be able to deal with the guilt that he was driving the engine when it hit us and sent us over the cliff, causing all this. He's too good a man to lose...they're both too good to lose."  DeSoto's voice was barely audible, and the tears fell freely. Brackett wrapped an arm around the grieving man for support, but in his mind he held little hope for Johnny's survival. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* Twelve hours later, with Roy still by his side, and the rest of the crew waiting impatiently outside the ICU room, Johnny inhaled deeply, surprising his best friend, who had been expecting for hours that death would steal the dark-haired medic away.  Gage's body jerked involuntarily and his eyes opened and DeSoto watched as his young partner stared at him. He made an attempt to talk, but was unable to because of the ventilator. Roy listened and noticed an improvement in the wheezing in Johnny's lungs. Excited, DeSoto squeezed Gage's left arm and wheeled himself out into the hall, where his friends had naturally assumed the end had come for John. "Where's the doctor?" Roy yelled. "I need the doctor! I think he's better! His lungs are sounding better! I think the drugs have worked!" Instantly, four firefighters jumped to their feet, also excited by the news. Dr. Brackett and Dr. Early were paged and moments later they accompanied Roy into John's room, doubtful that their patient had made a turn for the better. But as soon as they began examining him, the looks of skepticism on their faces disappeared, revealing smiles and telling Roy that he was right. Johnny was going to make it after all. "Well, this is surprising, Roy. A few hours ago, I held no hope he would survive the day. But his lungs are sounding a lot better. I suppose there is a lot of truth in the power of love and prayer." Turning to his patient, Brackett examined his pupils with a penlight and then patted Gage on the arm. "Looks like you're going to be just fine, Johnny. Your lungs are in repair. Now, you still have awhile to go before complete recovery, but I think you're going to get through this okay. And that hard head of yours looks like it's going to recover, too." Weak, but understanding what the doctor had just said to him, Johnny pointed to the ventilator. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to be on the vent for at least a few more days. How do you feel, Johnny?" Brackett asked. Gage closed his eyes, expressing in silence that he was tired. "Well, that's understandable, young man," Dr. Early replied. "You've been through a lot. Now, I think I'm going to go tell a bunch of firemen that you're going to be just fine." "Good, I'll go too. You can stay a few more minutes, Roy, but Johnny does need his rest. I'll be back to check on him shortly."  With that, both doctors left the room, still not believing Johnny had cheated death once again. Roy, noticing how exhausted his partner was, also said good-bye and joined his extended "family" out in the hall. The doctors had just told the men that Johnny was going to be okay. Chet was grinning ear-to-ear, and Marco and Cap were high-fiving each other. But Roy noticed Mike barely made any expression at all, continuing to stare at the floor. The paramedic wheeled his chair over to him, and told him to follow. Mike sighed and got up from his chair where the two men went around the corridor so that they could speak in private. "Okay, Roy, I know what you're going to say. And I am glad, really thankful that Johnny is going to be fine. But, I've decided, that I just can't do this job anymore, I'm just not cut out for it. This was just too much of a wake-up call. I'm supposed to be an engineer, I'm supposed to bring help to people, not nearly kill them. No, this is too much, I'll stay until Johnny is released, and then I am going to help him when he gets outta here. I'll go out to his ranch and do all his chores until he gets all his strength back and then I'm leaving - for good," Mike stated, in about as long a speech as Roy had ever heard from him. "C'mon, Mike, that's just crazy talk. Nobody wants you to leave. And I'm sure when Johnny finds out about it..." "He'll probably help me pack my bags!" Mike sadly finished Roy's sentence. "Look, I injured you, and nearly killed him. I shouldn't be an engineer anymore.  I shouldn't even be in this state anymore. And that is why I am going to go home...home to Wisconsin, where I can work in my dad's autoshop." "Mike, you're being foolish. A lot of people have been saved because you are a damn fine firefighter and a great engineer. Please reconsider. Don't do this," Roy begged. "Sorry, but my mind is made up. When Johnny is better, I'm going to tell him that when he comes back to work, he'll be working with a new engineer at Station 51." That said, Mike turned and walked away, happy that Gage would survive, but heartbroken that he was to blame for his friend nearly losing his life. E!*E!*E!*E!*E!* Three days later, Roy grabbed his crutches and hobbled up to the sixth floor to see Johnny. Today, they were taking him off the ventilator, his lungs finally healthy enough to breathe without help. DeSoto was slightly surprised to see Mike Stoker already in the room with him and wondered if he had told Gage that he would be leaving. No amount of discussion or persuasion from Roy, or any of the others, could convince the stubborn engineer to see things differently; he still believed in his heart he had been responsible for the horrible accident and injuries to both Roy and John. And Roy could tell by the smile on his partner's face that he knew nothing of Mike's impending plans. Roy made his way over towards the bed, happy to see Johnny breathing on his own. "You look great, Junior. Well, about as great as you can look in here. How are you feeling?" "I feel good, Roy. Can't wait to get outta here though. Mike was just saying things are awful around the station. They got Brice and Bellingham to replace us and those two squabble night and day. He said they're worse than an old married couple," Johnny replied, smiling, but Roy could hear the hoarseness in his voice and see the tell-tale signs of exhaustion on his face. He still couldn't believe a mere few days ago, that nobody held any hope that his partner would live through this ordeal. Glancing sideways at Mike, Roy asked Johnny, "Did Mike tell you the real reason he's here?" Stoker's face pinkened, and he looked quickly away. "No, what's going on?" Johnny asked, suddenly concerned. The engineer hesitated for a moment, putting a scare into the dark-haired paramedic. "Mike, is something wrong? Is there something going on that I need to know?" Gage demanded. "Well, Johnny, now that you mention it...I just wanted to make sure you're okay, and then...well...I've made a decision." John looked up at his crewmate, a deep, serious expression etched on his face. "What, Mike?" "Well, I've decided that I'm quitting the department," the usually quiet man finished abruptly. Stunned, Johnny stared at Mike. "You...you can't quit! You can't be serious? Why would you want to leave?" Both paramedics saw the obvious sadness on the handsome Stoker's face. "I'm just...I'm just not a very good engineer. I really blew it out there on the hill last week. I nearly killed you, Johnny, and look what I did to Roy." "C'mon, Mike. Nobody is blaming you! You...you can't leave. If you do, then I'll leave too!" Gage responded defiantly, with a nod of his head. His attempt to cross his broken, casted right arm did not work, so he wrapped his left arm around his chest. "And I'll leave too," Roy spoke up. "And then we can all go to Wisconsin and work in your dad's autoshop." "What? You're not even planning on staying in L.A.?" Gage questioned, disbelief written on his face. "Johnny, you just don't know how responsible I feel that I hit you guys. And you nearly died!  I can't continue doing this job, I just can't," Stoker informed the paramedic. "So you're going to quit over one accident, Mike? Don't you realize all the good you've done over the years, and all the good you'll continue to do?" Johnny questioned. Roy listened politely, but he had said the same things to Mike himself and was met with stone-cold refusal and disagreement. He thought Johnny was wasting his breath. "Look, nothing you can say is going to change my mind. I don't want to carry that  type of responsibility anymore. What if it happens again, and this time I kill, say, an innocent child?" "C'mon, Stoker, man, that isn't going to happen. Look at all the times you've driven the rig, speeding through intersections, hurrying to get to a fire, and lots of times before the fire got out of control? You're a great engineer. Don't you know how many lives you've saved? Mine included!" Gage replied. He noticed the surprised looks on both Roy and Mike's faces. Apparently, they had forgotten. "What are you talking about, Johnny?" the engineer asked. He had forgotten. "Don't you remember that time a few years ago, we were up at Bear Canyon and I got bit by the rattlesnake?" Johnny asked and smiled as the look of recollection finally dawned on both men's faces. "Yeah, of course you do! You knew Roy had already left with the victims in the chopper and that there was no other medical aid or transportation available. You helped get me up on the engine, and you drove me to Rampart! You saved my life back then, Mike, and I have always been grateful to you." "Well, that, was...ah...that was...different," Stoker exclaimed, reeling with embarrassed modesty and struggling for words. "No way, man, admit it, we needed you then, I needed you then and I still need you! Look, man, what happened was an accident, and if you can't accept that, you can't accept that you're a great engineer and an asset to Station 51, well, then I'm going to have to leave too, because, well...I...I  think I'm a lousy paramedic," Gage retorted. He tried to look serious, but he could see Stoker was breaking, he was getting through to him. Roy was shocked, Johnny had done it again. He watched Mike look up quickly towards Johnny. "No way in hell I'm gonna let you leave because you're one of the best..." Stoker began, and realized Roy and John were both smiling - he'd been had. He couldn't help but return the smile, and suddenly it dawned on him that he had been acting uncharacteristically foolish. He reached over and tousled Gage's already messy hair. "Okay, okay, I get what you're saying. And I'm going to stay at 51's," Mike stated happily, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "You promise?" Gage asked. "Yes, I promise." "You absolutely, positively, certainly sure you're staying?" Johnny queried again, his voice now nearly gone. "Yeah, I said I was, why?" Stoker asked the inquisitive, dark-haired medic. "Well, I got to thinking, Mike, and I really don't want to move to Wisconsin!" Johnny replied, his smile lighting up the room. In a few weeks, they would all be back together, working at Station 51. To Mike Stoker, that was a very precious thought. The End By: Mary Cull return to main page