GETTING THE HANG OF IT By Becky Jensen Johnny yawned deeply and waited for the stoplight to favor the line of traffic he was sitting in. Every day that he reported for work the drive from his ranch north of LA to the fire station sucked at least an hour from his life. If he worked a regular job with a five-day work week and eight-hour shifts, that cost may have been too high. But, the ranch had been a long time coming. It allowed him to have livestock to care for--a horse and a steer. He could ride into the nearby forested mountains on horseback or in a vehicle for camping. And, quiet wrapped around his ranch like a blanket, giving him the solitude he craved. So, he put up with the long drive. Looking up, he noticed the traffic beginning its creep through the intersection. He was inching through the interstate exit closest to the fire station. Every morning he prayed that he would navigate the heavy highway traffic without a mishap. The gods were once again with him on this overcast October morning. The trip had been uneventful. His Land Rover gradually picked up speed as the cars moved through the signal. Great, it's finally my turn. He cranked the wheel and took the right turn that would lead him to the station. One more left turn and he could see the red, one-story, brick building that housed the engine and squad of Station 51. Man, I hope someone had the good sense to make some coffee this morning. He had been busy the day before repairing the electric fence around his largest pasture. He could hardly see to wind the wire around the insulators by the time he finished. The sun had disappeared behind the low mountain range to the west of his ranch. Clouds moving in from the west reflected the salmon and pink of sunset. He had quickly dumped the wire cutters, pliers, and remaining wire in a bucket and put the equipment away in the barn. After an additional hour, the evening chores were completed to his satisfaction. It was an exhausted ranch owner who nearly crawled across the night-cloaked yard between the barn and his house. The Land Rover turned into the drive beside the station and pulled into its usual parking space. As he shut off the engine, Johnny wondered if the vehicle knew its way to the station. Often, the long drive between home and work was a blur. Thinking back, Johnny thought he probably remembered every mile, maybe. With a heavy sigh, he levered his tired body from the bucket seat. He glanced at his watch and increased his speed across the asphalt to the rear door of the station. Captain Stanley released a breath he didn't know he had been holding, when he saw the dark-haired paramedic enter the apparatus bay. Good, Johnny made it back to work without an injury. He had seen the rest of his crew that morning and was hoping that he wouldn't have to ask anyone from C Shift to stay over. Roy also gave a sigh of relief as he lined up for roll call. The appearance of his injury-prone partner was always a cause for celebration. He looks exhausted, Roy thought as he looked closely at Johnny. Roy nodded and smiled. "How's it going, Johnny?" Roy asked as Johnny sidled up to take his place in the line up for roll call. "Great, Roy. How're you doin'?" "Can't complain." They returned their attention to Captain Stanley. Looking over his assembled crew, Hank Stanley once again counted his blessings. He had one of the best crews in the department, if he did say so himself. Roy and Johnny were highly respected in the department as firefighters and paramedics. He couldn't ask for a better engineer than Mike. And, Chet and Marco were hard working and experienced firefighters. Best of all, his crew were friends as well as coworkers. The cohesive group watched out for each other in matters pertaining to work and in their personal lives. After making eye contact with each man, Captain Stanley glanced back at the first departmental memo he had to announce to his men. "The Personnel Department has officially changed its name to Human Relations Department. No changes in personnel, hours, or services are expected. I'll post the memo later this morning." Stanley flipped to the next announcement. "Just a reminder, any requests for vacations in December and January need to be submitted by October fifteenth. Station duties for today are as follows: Stoker-you're cooking today, Lopez and DeSoto-hang hose, Kelly-latrine, Gage-rec room and dorm." Hank looked up from his list. "Let's get to it, gentlemen." A chorus of "aye, Cap" echoed through the apparatus bay. Hank returned to his office. The rest of the firefighters, except John and Roy, headed to the kitchen for a quick cup of coffee before starting their day. The paramedics did an equipment check and ran through the trauma, drug, and OB boxes to inspect supply levels. When they were assured that everything was ready for a run, John and Roy joined their crew mates. "Did ya leave us any coffee, Chet?" Johnny asked as he crossed to the stove. Anticipating a full pot, he lifted the light-weight, stainless steel container off the stove and nearly banged it on the overhead cabinets. Roy ducked as Johnny brought his arm and the coffee pot back down to the stovetop. "Why do I always have to make a new pot?" "Gage, you're exaggerating, again," Chet assured Johnny. "I don't think so." Johnny measured out coffee grounds and water. "Well, I think we all make at least one pot of coffee a day." Chet looked around for support. "Whatta ya think, Marco?" Mike and Marco glanced at each other. They shared a deep desire to stay out of the argument du jour between Chet and Johnny. With a subtle nod, they both pushed back their chairs and stood. "If we all make a pot of coffee, why is it empty now?" Marco asked just before he walked out of the kitchen. Mike left to double check the oil and gas levels on the engine before deciding the menu for the day. "Obviously, some of us, Chet, aren't actually making coffee everyday." Johnny leaned against the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. Thinking he might be the next person called upon for a comment about the inane argument, Roy quietly returned his cup to the sink and left the kitchen to help Marco hang hose. Chet and Johnny looked around the room. Without an audience, the two men didn't find the discussion nearly as entertaining, or necessary. "Well, we got a fresh pot for now." Johnny tried to sum up the situation. "Until you drink it all," Chet replied, unable to resist getting in the last jab before heading for the latrine. <<<*E!*>>> Johnny patted the pillow on the last bunk as he replaced bed linens. I wonder if Chet's done in the latrine, yet. Maybe I'll beat him to the kitchen for some…The response tones interrupted his thoughts. "Station 51: Auto accident with injuries. Northbound I-405, two miles north of the Avalon Boulevard exit. Northbound I-405, two miles north of the Avalon Boulevard exit. Time out 10:27." Sprinting for the apparatus bay, Johnny shoved the door open from the locker room and burst through the opening. Chet ran out of the kitchen. They saw each other converging on the narrow space between the engine and the squad. Johnny dodged to his right and added a burst of speed to beat Chet. Unfortunately, Chet had similar ideas. He dodged to his left believing Johnny would go around him to the squad. After all, Chet had to get into his turnout coat before climbing aboard; Johnny had only to open his door and slide in. The two men collided as each dodged in the way of the other. Chet's solid build and low center of gravity kept him on his feet. But, Johnny's tall, lean frame bounced off of Chet, and his feet slipped on the smooth cement floor. He dropped to the floor with an "ungh." "Johnny, are you okay?" Chet asked, when he had recovered his voice after his unexpected impact with Johnny. Johnny had landed on his left side after hitting the engine's bumper on the way down. He propped himself up on his left arm and grabbed his ribs with his right hand. "Man, Chet! Don't you watch where you're going?" Roy had heard Chet's shout. He saw Chet standing at the rear of the engine, when he looked in the passenger side mirror. Roy also saw someone's legs on the floor behind the engine; he left the keys in the ignition that he hadn't turned over, yet. He flew around the back of the squad past a startled Captain Stanley, who was still writing the response on the call slips. "I was watching where I was going." Chet reached down to help Johnny. Roy skidded to a stop behind Chet. "What happened?" Roy asked. "Chet ran, unh, into me," Johnny explained as he let Chet help him back on his feet. But, he kept a hand protectively over his left chest. Roy didn't like the splinting Johnny was doing with his free hand. "Did you crack a rib?" Looking up from brushing his pants off, Johnny saw Roy looking at him. Captain Stanley stood behind Roy, and they shared worried expressions. Johnny straightened his shoulders and let his right arm fall back to its side. "I'm fine, Roy." "Do I need to call in a Code I, or can we respond?" Stanley needed to let dispatch know if the squad was unable to answer the call. Johnny started walking to the squad. "I'm okay, Cap. Let's go, Roy!" He yanked the door open and slid onto the seat. Hank and Roy looked at each other, shrugged, and headed for their respective vehicles after Hank handed Roy a copy of the call slip. Chet trotted down the now empty space between the squad and engine. He glanced at Johnny as he pulled on his turnout coat. He thought he saw Johnny wince and grab his chest, but in an instant Johnny's face was more relaxed. Roy climbed back into the squad. He handed Johnny the call slip and glanced at his partner as he started the engine. With practiced motions, he slipped the transmission into drive, turned on the warning lights, and flipped on the siren. Johnny uttered a small gasp as the squad bounced off the driveway onto the road. Must've hit the bumper on the way down and messed up my ribs…again. Splitting his concentration between the traffic and his partner, Roy had to slam on the brakes to avoid a car in the intersection. He heard Mike hit the air brakes on the engine. Johnny was unable to stop the sharp grunt of pain when he had to brace against the dash. When the traffic was clear, Roy picked up speed. But, he continued to steal frequent looks at his partner. Johnny didn't seem to be in distress, but he was paler than normal. He appeared to have difficulty concentrating on giving Roy directions--distracted. Roy knew how to get to the accident scene. They had responded to several accidents on the 405. Time spent racing to a rescue meant more time was required to get victims to definitive care. Response time for this call had been lengthened by Chet and Johnny's collision. Roy didn't want to waste any further time evaluating his partner's condition. Johnny's an adult and responsible for his own well-being and performance. But, after the call was another matter. The squad entered the interstate at Avalon and screamed down the berm past the backed up traffic. Within a couple of minutes, Roy had reached the edge of the accident area. California Highway Patrol officers were trying to get gawking motorists to move past the mangled vehicles with only a modicum of success. Mike steered the engine past the squad to get the hoses and equipment as close to the scene as possible. Captain Stanley stepped down from the engine and strode quickly to where a CHP Sergeant was talking to one of the accident victims. "Whatcha got, Sergeant?" Sergeant O'Brien excused himself from the middle-aged man sitting on the edge of the road. He had a blood stained handkerchief pressed to his forehead. Stanley caught Roy's eye and motioned him over to take care of the victim. Hank shook his head as he surveyed the mess. "My men checked all of the vehicles. There's some gas on the pavement from a couple ruptured tanks. Three people're trapped: the tan station wagon on its side, the white Ford sandwiched between the red truck and white Chevy sedan, and the VW Beetle." O'Brien paused for a moment. "The rest of the victims are being gathered there." He pointed to a grassy spot under the only tree in the area. "Let me know if there's anything we can do." "Thanks, Sergeant." Stanley had dug his handie talkie out. "LA, Engine 51. We need a second engine and squad and at least three ambulances at our location." Now I need to get my men busy. Stanley trotted back to the engine where his men waited for instructions. Chet had pulled the reel line, and Mike had powered up the pumps and water pressure. Roy was already busy with his first victim. Johnny had pulled on his turnout coat, anticipating the need to extricate victims. Marco looked expectantly at his leader. "John, we have three cars with people trapped." Stanley relayed the details that Sergeant O'Brien had provided. "Marco, help John, pal. Chet, wash down the whole scene. I can smell gas, and O'Brien said saw gas leaking. I called for some assistance." Stanley turned from his men and strode back to Roy. "How's he doing?" "He's got a small laceration, but otherwise he's okay." Roy glanced up at Stanley after putting the finishing touches on a small gauze bandage. "The ChiPs are taking ambulatory victims over there. Why don't you check on 'em? I've got John working on extricating folks. And, I've got another squad and engine on the way." "Sure, Cap. Mr. Williams, let me help you over to the shade. It's getting kinda hot here in the sun; now that the clouds have moved off." Roy grabbed the drug and trauma boxes he had carried with him from the squad. Johnny dropped the bio phone off where Roy had started assessing the handful of people with minor injuries. He straightened up with a soft hiss and headed off with a pry bar to work on extrication. He found Marco looking over the light blue Beetle. Johnny could see the driver, a young blond woman, was slumped over sideways onto the passenger seat. Both doors were dented, which probably explained why they wouldn't open. "Give me a hand, Marco." Johnny shoved the tapered end of the pry bar into a crimp in the edge of the passenger door. Marco and John applied their combined weights to the other end. The metal shrieked as the door popped open. Taking shallow breaths to decrease the pain in his ribs, Johnny tensed to push the door further open. "Thanks, Marco. Could you get a backboard?" "Sure, Johnny. Be right back." Johnny nodded at his coworker before concentrating on his unconscious victim. Squatting gingerly beside the open door, he braced himself with his right arm and reached for her neck with his left hand. Good, she's got a pulse. He moved his hand to her upper abdomen and felt deep and even respirations. With a soft grunt he leaned a little further into the vehicle and lightly palpated her abdomen. So far, so good. No abdominal distension or rigidity. She must have just hit her head. Johnny pulled his hand back and pushed up from his squat after taking a bracing breath. He saw Marco approaching with the backboard. Leaning into the small car he moved the woman forward on the seat slightly, keeping her head and neck in the same relative position. A crimson stain smeared across the vinyl seat. Johnny wiped the blood off his hand, and he pushed the back of the seat forward to slide into the small rear seating area. "I'm gonna help get her hips and legs out," he said to Marco when he returned with the equipment. Leaning forward between the two front seats, Johnny grunted to reach her legs to check for injuries. He braced himself to slide the unconscious woman on to the backboard. Placing his left side against the seat, he gave his sore ribs the support they needed, so he could use his arms. "Okay, Marco. I'm ready. One, two, three, pull." With Marco's strong assistance, they were able to quickly slide her on the board. Johnny gasped as pain knifed through his side. He hung over the back seat trying to catch his breath. Marco looked at him quizically. "Johnny, are you all right?" "Just….gimme a ….a few seconds, ….Marco." Johnny pushed himself up and moved slowly to get out of the back seat of the Beetle. He braced his arms on his legs bent over at the waist. The pain was slowly receding. After a few moments he could breathe again. "Okay, Marco. Let's get her over to the shade." Johnny let Marco have the head, and heavier, end of the backboard. Luckily, the young woman was slender. A few minutes later, Marco and Johnny were setting her down next to the other injured people. Roy glanced up from splinting a little girl's wrist when he saw a stretcher settling on the ground beside him. He carefully tore the tape as he finished wrapping the sturdy cardboard in place. Tears streaked her little face. Roy smiled at her and nodded at her mother, who held the little girl. "That should hold her until she can get an x-ray to check that wrist. We'll get her on the next ambulance." "Thank you so much." The mother hugged her daughter. Roy turned from the pair and watched as Johnny straightened from setting the young woman on the ground. Johnny stretched his back slowly, twisting his lower back. Taking a deep breath, Johnny felt pain flash up the left side of his chest as muscles along the bruised ribs spasmed. The pain pulled his upper body forward, and he grabbed his left side to support the painful area. Springing to his feet, Roy was at Johnny's side. He could see Johnny was panting with short, rapid breaths. "Johnny, you need to sit down." Roy didn't get any response from Johnny. "Johnny! Sit down!" he shouted, holding onto Johnny's upper arms. Roy's words broke through the haze of pain Johnny was experiencing. The cramping and pain was lessening. Pulling his head up and straightening his shoulders, Johnny was able to take some deeper breaths. "I'm….I'm okay, Roy." "Well, it sure didn't look like it to me." Johnny decided it was time for the truth. His ribs were hampering his effectiveness in this rescue. "I musta bruised … my ribs when I fell back at the station." "I wondered." Roy led his partner over to the running board of the engine. "Sit down before you fall down." Roy motioned to Mike, "keep an eye on 'im. I need to go talk to the Cap." Roy quickly found his leader, who was directing the crew of the second engine and squad. Stanley turned around to go back to 51's engine and nearly ran into Roy. "Hey, Roy." "Cap. Johnny needs to get checked out at Rampart." Stanley looked around for his hapless paramedic. Spotting him on the engine's running board, Hank slowly shook his head. "What's wrong with him?" "He thinks he bruised some ribs when he fell. He shouldn't do any lifting in case they're fractured." "Send him in with the next load of victims. Can he monitor the victims, so you can stay on scene?" Roy looked back at his partner and gave his Captain's question some thought. "He should be able to handle anything that comes up. Most of the victims aren't seriously injured." "Okay, then. Send him in. By the time we get done mopping this up, you'll be able to pick him up at Rampart." "Thanks, Cap." Roy trotted back to Johnny. "Cap wants you to go on the next ambulance. Do you think you could monitor a few victims riding with you?" Johnny glanced over to the shaded grass where a few people still waited to be transported. Most of them had walked from their battered vehicles. The only person on a stretcher was the girl that he and Marco had freed. She had regained consciousness and was being treated by Brian Jacobs from Squad 15. "Yeah, I can handle it." Roy nodded and walked back to the cluster of victims. Johnny followed his partner's movements. He rubbed his sore chest. The warble of the ambulance siren could be heard over the engine and traffic noises. Once again bracing his ribs with his arms, Johnny slowly stood. He gave Mike a small wave and moved off to where the ambulance had stopped. Standing off to one side, Johnny watched as Jacobs and Malcolm, from the ambulance, loaded the young woman with the head injury into the rig. He smiled when their eyes met briefly before she disappeared into the back of the ambulance. Roy assisted the woman whose daughter had a possible fractured wrist into the vehicle. After he had backed out, Roy took Johnny's arm to help him up to the bench seat. Johnny yanked his arm back. "Geez, Roy, I'm okay." Turning away from Roy, Johnny grabbed the edge of the door with his left hand and pulled himself into the rig. Roy stood by to help, if he had to. He set a bio phone and drug box into the small space left on the floor and bench seat. The crowded conditions in the back of the ambulance forced the attendants to both sit up front. Roy and Malcolm closed the back doors. When the ambulance had left the scene, Roy went in search of his captain to find out where he was needed. Johnny sat back against the side of the ambulance and tried to relax his tense muscles. If I could just close my eyes …But, the little girl and the blond woman were under his care until they reached the hospital. He leaned forward to check the woman's pulse. He flashed her a smile and turned to the little girl. "How's your arm, kiddo?" The little girl hid her face in her mother's chest. Her mother smiled at her child. She looked up at Johnny. "She hasn't complained about her wrist since it's been splinted." "Great." Johnny looked out the small back windows. "We should be at Rampart shortly." Johnny lifted the edge of the gauze bandage on the blond's forehead. The laceration had stopped bleeding. Johnny patted her arm. He felt the ambulance stop and start backing into the ambulance bay. Moments later the doors popped open. Johnny waited for Malcolm to pull the gurney out. He helped the woman and her daughter out the door. A nurse led them away. Taking a deep breath, Johnny crawled out of the rig. He carefully lifted the bio phone and drub box out of the ambulance and stacked them just inside the door. Using his right arm and moving methodically with a lot of concentration, controlled movements, and breathing, Johnny was able to accomplish this small task. He made his way deeper into the emergency department. Dixie zipped out of one room and disappeared across the hall. Guess I'll go wait at the base station. Johnny knew the docs and nurses would eventually end up there. Spying a half-filled carafe of coffee in the corner of the base station, Johnny helped himself to a cup of the dark, hot liquid. Might as well get comfy. I could be waiting a while. He hitched a hip up on the stool behind the desk. Slowly and tenderly, he slid his battered body forward to lean an elbow on the desk as he found sitting up straight to be too much effort. Dixie walked quickly out of Treatment Room Four and headed for the base station. Her mind swirled with the multiple orders that Dr. Brackett had barked at her in the treatment room. She was almost past the desk where she normally sat and watched over the controlled chaos of ER when she saw a blue-clad figure bent over the desk. She immediately recognized the shaggy, dark hair as that of John Gage. She stopped at the desk, lab tubes in her hand forgotten. Something about the paramedic's dejected posture set off warning bells. "Johnny?" Dixie waited for her friend to answer. She reached forward and laid her hand lightly on his shoulder. He startled, pulling away from the nurse. The sharp movement reawakened the knife-like pain in his left chest. He expressed a long, low moan. Lifting his head, he saw Dixie's outstretched hand frozen in midair by his reaction to her touch. She put her hand and arm back at her side. Johnny swallowed and concentrated on slowing his breathing. When he had some semblance of control back, he began explaining his presence at the base station. "Hey, Dix." "Hi, Johnny. Are you all right?" "Not really. I fell at the station and hurt my chest. I think I bruised some ribs." Johnny paused to take a sip of coffee. "I couldn't help out at the MVA we were sent to. So, Roy sent me in." "Well, then let's get you in a room and get those ribs checked out." Dixie smiled at her friend and was very glad that the problem was relatively simple. "I need to get these tubes to lab and get some x-rays ordered for Kel. Let's see…Treatment Room Three should be open. You head that way, and I'll send someone in as soon as they're free." "Sure, Dix." Johnny carefully slid off of the stool and took his lukewarm cup of coffee with him. It might be a long wait. <<<*E!*>>> "Doctor Morton cleared you for duty?" Roy asked as he walked with Johnny to the squad. Johnny had been waiting beside the base station when Roy had finally arrived at the hospital. He waited patiently while Roy rounded up replacements for the supplies they had used at the accident. "Yeah, Morton taped my ribs. "He couldn't find any fractures on the x-rays." Johnny rubbed his side. "It feels a lot better with the support." Roy glanced at his partner as they climbed into the squad. "Well, try not to collide with Chet the next time we get a call." "I didn't try to collide with him this time. We both just ended up in the same space." Johnny watched as Roy pulled into the traffic that flowed in front of the hospital. "Hey, Roy, have you noticed the brunette nurse that works on the weekends." "You mean Tammy?" "Mmm-hmm. She was working an extra shift today. She helped Dr. Morton with his exam." "Was there something about her that caught your eye?" Roy asked, knowing full well that Tammy was a striking young lady. She was tall and lithe with high, fine cheekbones. Her personality was friendly, and she had an excellent sense of humor. "She's a looker. We didn't get much of a chance to talk. But, I'm gonna look her up this weekend when we're on duty." Johnny made a mental note to get to know her better on their next shift. <<<*E!*>>> The twenty-four hours on, forty-eight hours off duty rotation left Johnny with some free time that he and Tammy could take advantage of. After talking to her several times as he and Roy brought victims to the hospital Saturday, he was able to wrangle a date with her on Monday. Even though her weekend in the Emergency Department had been busy, Tammy had recovered sufficiently by Monday morning to have some fun with the paramedic. They had a relaxed day with a picnic at the beach, spending the day getting to know each other. They went to dinner and a movie in the evening. It was late when Johnny dropped her off at her apartment. But, he didn't regret the lost sleep. "So, how was your date with Tammy?" Roy asked when Johnny flew into the locker room. "It was great, Roy! We spent practically all day together." Johnny slid out of his jeans and western shirt as he talked. Moments later he had his uniform on and was pulling the extra accouterments out of his locker. Roy was newly amazed at how quickly his partner could change outfits. "So, you'll be seeing Tammy, again?" "Yep, I'm gonna call her tomorrow. Then, we'll decide where we're gonna go." "Gentlemen, time for roll call," Hank hollered from the apparatus bay. "C'mon, Roy. Let's go." Johnny slapped his locker closed and sprinted for the door. Roy followed, shaking his head at his friend. The shift started out busy and stayed that way. Johnny and Roy had three runs of their own before lunch and accompanied the engine to a small brush fire. The station was toned out to the structure fire just before lunch. A collective groan was heard as the firemen raced for their respective vehicles. They all knew they would be very hungry by the time they finished with the fire. <<<*E!*>>> The spectators milled like vultures around the perimeter of the parking lot and down the street in front of the warehouse. A tall, dark-haired man waited expectantly as the fire department vehicles' sirens could be heard, getting louder as the engine and squad made their way through the industrial park. Tony Parks was excited. His plan was going as he hoped it would. Just four days ago, he would have been one of the workers fleeing the fire from within the structure. But, he had been fired from his job over a minor infraction. I just wanted to rest for a few minutes. I would've gotten away with it, too, if Harris hadn't reported me to the super. He smiled when he saw Mr. Porter running around the parking lot, wringing his hands. Serves the bastard right for firing me. I'm a good employee, dammit. <<<*E!*>>> "Next right and three more blocks, Roy." Johnny supplied directions from the shotgun seat. Roy pulled the squad off to the side when they reached the factory warehouse. The structure housed boxes of apparel and nonperishable items waiting for shipment to department stores. Smoke dribbled from under the edge of the roof. Orange-red tongues of flame lapped at the windows. Workers stumbled out of several semi-truck loading docks along the side of the structure. The paramedics pulled their turnouts, air masks, and tanks out of the squad's compartments. They trotted over to the engine. Captain Stanley was talking to the warehouse supervisor. "I need to know if there are any workers left in the warehouse." "I'm…I'm not sure." The balding, portly man was wringing his hands. "Why don't you count heads and let me know if anyone is missing?" "Sure…I'll…I'll do that." He scurried off to the multiple clumps of workers standing and watching the fire. "What a twit," Captain Stanley muttered under his breath. "Let's get an inch and a half in the warehouse. Johnny and Roy make a sweep. We gotta make sure all of the workers're out. I don't think Mr. Porter is gonna be much help." "Right, Cap." Roy acknowledged their leader's instructions. "Make it quick, boys!" Roy and Johnny waved at Stanley as they jogged to the burning building. Continuing their trot, the paramedics applied their masks and pulled the straps tight. They had about thirty minutes of air before they would have to leave their search. The smoke was dark gray and dense throughout the wide expanse of the warehouse. The other firefighters hadn't had time to ventilate the roof, yet. The heat was incredible. Walking with their backs bent to take advantage of the cooler, clearer air near the floor, Johnny and Roy stayed within visual distance of each other. I sure hope everyone made it out. It wouldn't take long to succumb to the heat or smoke in here. Johnny considered the possible scenarios as he continued looking around boxes and pallets of merchandise. For that matter, it won't take long for Roy and I to get overheated, either. He tried to speed up the search process. Roy hadn't found any workers in the areas he was searching. He glanced over and was relieved to still see his partner through the thick smoke. Moving forward quickly, he repeated his motions as he tried to find any wayward employees. Over the increasingly loud roar of the fire, he could hear glass breaking. I hope that's from firemen's axes and not the heat of the fire. Roy ducked as a crate of combustible wares exploded at the rear of the warehouse. Roy loosened a strap on his mask and lifted it away from his face. "We gotta hurry, Johnny!" Johnny waved at his partner and nodded with exaggerated motions. The smoke was moving as it sought an escape from the building. The added air from the open windows fanned the flames, which leaped up and outward. The dark orange glow brightened with the fresh oxygen supply. Suddenly, the fire was directly in front of the two firefighters. "Whoa!" Johnny cried out and fell back on to the concrete floor. His helmet protected his head, but he felt intense pain as his back landed on his oxygen apparatus and his coccyx slammed the cement. Damn, why can't they make soft concrete? He rolled to his side and took a couple of seconds to gather his wits and his breath. Pushing himself off the floor, he looked around for his partner. Roy laid about fifteen feet from him. Worry shot through Johnny's conscious as he realized Roy wasn't moving, hadn't even started to pick himself up off the floor. Ignoring his own aches and pains, Johnny rushed the few feet separating them. Roy was lying with his back toward Johnny. Scurrying around to the front of his friend, Johnny's heart was stuck in his throat as the ultimate fear he held in his psyche seemed about to occur. Roy's eyes were closed. A swatch of blood covered his forehead above the air mask, which was pushed slightly to one side. A wooden pallet lay just to the side of Roy's head. Johnny put his hand down on Roy's chest and waited for the rise and fall of his partner's chest. Yes, he's breathing. Now, let's see how the pulse feels. A steady thumping greeted his fingers as they reached down the inside of Roy's turnout collar. Way to go, Roy. Johnny said, "Let's get you outta here." He could feel the heat increasing rapidly at his back as he bent over his partner's body. Taking a precious few seconds to be certain his partner didn't have any major injuries in his extremities, Johnny whisked his hands down Roy's arms and legs. Not finding anything to indicate a fracture, Johnny pulled Roy into a sitting position. He steadied Roy's head with one hand. Squatting in front of Roy, Johnny hauled his partner over his shoulder in a classic fireman's carry. Geez, Roy, JoAnne's been feeding you too well. "Ungh," Johnny grunted under Roy's weight as he hurried out of the darkened warehouse toward the lighter area near the building's door. The smoke was considerably lighter near the entrance. Then, he saw the hoses that led out to the pumpers. He hadn't seen any other firefighters; they must have been working the fire deeper in the warehouse. <<<*E!*>>> "Let's move back a little here, folks. It's just a fire. Nothing much to see. Back up a little. Thanks." The policeman moved on down the line, moving spectators back to keep the area clear around the fire fighting equipment. Tony Parks frowned as the dark-blue uniformed officer pushed him back a couple of feet. He needed to see what happened with his handy work. The fire he had set was working its magic. The brilliant orange and red flames danced from several windows and black smoke rolled out of the top of the building. Wow, it's amazing how big the fire got with a few well-placed gasoline-soaked rags. <<<*E!*>>> Captain Stanley was watching the entrance for any activity that might require his attention. He saw a firefighter carrying another over his shoulder. Moving quickly to close the distance across the asphalt parking lot, Stanley noticed that it was Gage and DeSoto. At least Gage's upright this time. "Need any help, John?" Johnny shook his head and motioned toward the squad. Stanley understood that the paramedic needed his equipment from the other side of the vehicle. He trotted around the squad to get the trauma box, bio phone, and drug box. Johnny reached the area beside the squad and bent over to let Roy roll off his shoulder. Johnny's back protested the stretching and bending, but he ignored it to the best of his ability in order to concentrate on Roy. Hank sat down the boxes he carried and helped ease Roy to the ground. Snatching his air mask off, Johnny looked over the equipment ready for him. "I'll need the O2, Cap." Johnny didn't even look up as he knelt next to Roy. He removed Roy's airmask and helmet. When the oxygen tank was set down next to Roy's head, he paused in removing Roy's equipment and put an oxygen mask on his face. Johnny pulled one of Roy's arms out of the SCBA harness and rolled him over the metal cannister to get his other arm out. Stanley pulled the gear out of the way, and Johnny eased Roy back to the ground. "LA, we have a Code I. Please respond an ambulance to this location." Johnny heard Hank's request for an ambulance as he pulled a gauze bandage out of the trauma box and laid it on the gash he found on Roy's temple. "Could you hold that, Cap?" "Sure, John." Opening the drug box, Johnny removed the blood pressure cuff and started collecting vitals on Roy. He found relatively normal vital signs. With a penlight, he checked pupil accommodation and found them equally round and reactive. So far, Pally, it's looking good. Now, could you wake up for me? "He's doing pretty good, Cap. I just wish he would wake up." Johnny gave his leader an update before lifting the handset on the bio phone. "Rampart, this is Rescue 51." "Go ahead, 51," Dr. Early's voice came out of the receiver. "Rampart, we have a 31-year-old male, firefighter, who's unconscious after striking his head on a pallet. He has a three-inch laceration on his right temple that's bleeding slightly. He's unconscious; pupils are equal and reactive to light. Vital signs are BP 130/85, pulse 110, and respiratory rate 18. No other signs of trauma are apparent." Johnny let up on the transmit button on the handset. "Fifty-one, start an IV of D5W TKO, recheck vitals en route, and transport as soon as possible." Johnny repeated the instructions. He set up a bag of IV fluid and added the tubing. With an alcohol swab and angiocath, he speared a vein on the inside of Roy's arm. Taping the IV in place, Johnny adjusted the fluid flow and hung the bag on the oxygen tank holder. Moving quickly but smoothly, Johnny leaned over the trauma box and retrieved a fresh bandage for Roy's wound with another scream from his recently traumatized back. He took over for Captain Stanley and redressed Roy's laceration. As Johnny taped the bottom corner of the gauze, Roy started moving his head and groaning under his breath. "Roy? Roy are you with me?" "Unh. Where'm I?" Roy tried to lift his hand to his aching head. "You're at the warehouse fire. You fell and hit your head on a pallet." Johnny restrained Roy's arm. "Easy, Roy. You've got an IV in your arm." Roy opened his eyes. "IV. What for?" "You were unconscious for several minutes. I called Rampart, and they gave me orders for an IV. You know how it works." Johnny looked more closely at his partner. Roy nodded his agreement. What I wouldn't give for an aspirin-a really big aspirin. "I suppose I'll be in an ambulance soon, too." "Yep. In fact, here it is." Johnny twisted on his heels, suppressing a groan, and watched the ambulance pull up next to the squad. He pushed up to a standing position, walked over to the back doors, and opened the vehicle. He was just beginning to pull out the gurney when the attendants reached the rear of the rig. They assisted the paramedic in setting the gurney next to Roy. The four men quickly had Roy loaded on the stretcher and back in the ambulance. "I'll have Marco pick you up at the hospital, John," Stanley informed his junior paramedic. After sliding the bio phone and drug box into the rig, Johnny climbed in and settled on the bench seat beside his best friend. He pressed his sore back against the smooth metal of the ambulance. The terror of Roy's injuries was giving way to a bone-deep fatigue and aching back muscles that accompanied Johnny's realization that Roy would most likely be just fine. Johnny predicted an over night stay at Rampart for his partner. That means I have to finish the shift with a replacement. I sure hope it's not Brice. <<<*E!*>>> Watching the ambulance leave with the injured fireman, Tony felt a shiver of delight. The hustle and excitement of the firefighters and ambulance, even the police officers, gave him surges of adrenaline. He felt alive, and all of his senses were primed. <<<*E!*>>> Johnny checked his watch and collected a fresh set of vitals for the hospital. The ride to Rampart General wouldn't take long. Roy's vital signs were slightly better than the first ones Johnny took. "I'm gonna check your eyes, again, partner." Johnny ran the penlight past Roy's eyes as quickly as he could. He knew from experience how painful that tiny light was when his head was aching from a trauma. Roy winced and kept his eyes shut after Johnny was finished. The pounding beat in his head was worse. I'll be glad to get through the exams and get something for this dang headache. Roy cracked his eyes open slightly and watched his partner check under the bandage on right temple. He grinned at the professional, stern look that masked Johnny's normally animated visage. "I'm fine, Johnny." Roy tried to reassure his partner. "If you were fine, we wouldn't be riding to Rampart in this tin box." "I guess you could be right about that, Junior." Roy was glad to see a small grin on Johnny's face. He relaxed and closed his eyes against the light that seemed to stab the back of his eyeballs. The ambulance backed up to the emergency room doors. Johnny climbed out and waited for the attendants to help him with the stretcher. Carrying the equipment he brought from the scene, Johnny walked beside Roy's stretcher. He set the boxes down inside the exam room they were directed to by Dixie. Rubbing his low back and coccyx, Johnny tried to relieve the muscle pain that had settled there from landing on his SCBA tank in the warehouse. Doctor Early followed the stretcher into the room. He smiled at Johnny as he approached the exam table. Roy had pulled an arm up and was gently rubbing his forehead. "How's your head feeling, Roy?" "It's pounding like a bass drum, Dr. Early." "Any nausea, blurring or double vision, or disorientation?" "None that I know of." "Uh, Doc, he was unconscious for at least ten minutes," Johnny added. Joe Early looked up at Johnny to acknowledge his participation. "Well, this laceration needs a few stitches, but, first, I want to get a set of x-rays to be sure your skull isn't cracked."  Roy nodded his assent. "I'll be back in a few minutes." Joe left the two paramedics to attend to other patients. "Johnny, could you call JoAnne? I know she's gonna be worried, if you call. But, she'd really think I was mortally wounded, if Cap notified her." "Sure, Roy. I'll be back in a few minutes." Johnny left to call his friend's wife. He understood completely what Roy was concerned about. Anytime a firefighter's wife received a call during her husband's shift, she expected the worst. Johnny was amazed that any firefighter could find a wife willing to send her lover off to his potential death each shift. I guess I'll just have to wait and see if I can find a woman willing to make that kind of sacrifice. At times, Johnny wondered if he would remain a bachelor his entire life. Then, he thought about Tammy and the connection they had made earlier in the week. Maybe there is hope for me. He whistled under his breath as he went to use the phone at the nurses' station. <<<*E!*>>> The warehouse was a complete loss. Water poured from the loading dock doors. The walls of charred wooden beams and warped steel canted crazily.  The structure looked like a strong wind would take it all down to a pile of well-cooked debris. Tony Parks gazed at the mess. Without the fire and firefighters, the scene was depressing. Remembering the excitement that the fire had generated, Tony knew he needed to recapture the rush, and soon. <<<*E!*>>> The rest of the shift passed quickly. Hank was able to get Dwyer to cover for Roy, much to Johnny's delight. The engine crew responded to a house fire and a rubbish fire as the shift unfolded. Johnny and Dwyer had a man with chest pain, who had been mowing his lawn, and a woman in labor, in addition to the two fires that they responded to with the engine. The morning dawned clear and bright. Johnny was glad to see the weather improvement. He hoped to call Tammy later and arrange for some time together. With weather like this they could go just about anywhere, the beach, hiking, horseback riding. Johnny grinned thinking about the possibilities. Even the mild back discomfort that nagged him didn't put a damper on his good mood. He turned into the large parking lot behind Rampart General, hoping to pick up his partner and save his wife a trip to the hospital. With a glance at his watch Johnny quick stepped his way through the lobby and rode the elevator to the third floor. He waved at several nurses he had become acquainted with in various ways-recuperating and dating. A knock on the door to Roy's temporary quarters elicited a gruff "C'min." "Hey, Roy. How ya feeling?" Johnny folded his lean frame into the unyielding plastic chair beside the bed. "I'm ready to get outta here." "Do you have a release?" "Yeah, Brackett dropped in already and gave me my home instructions. I'm waiting for the nurses to clear the paperwork." "Didja call JoAnne, yet?" Johnny asked glancing at his watch again. Roy shook his head. "No. I know she's getting the kids ready for school, and then she'll be by."  "Why don't ya call her? I'll stick around and take ya home." "Are you sure, Junior? I know you had some big plans on your day off with Tammy." "But, we aren't meeting until around noon. I can get ya home." "Hey, thanks, Johnny. JoAnne'll be glad." "That's what I'm counting on. It'll probably get me invited for a home cooked meal sometime soon." Johnny flashed Roy one of his brilliant grins. Roy made his phone call, the nurses finished the paperwork, and the paramedics were soon on their way out the front door. Johnny ran Roy by the station to pick up his clothes and his car. Another glance at his wristwatch and Johnny sped for home. He had a couple hours to get home, do chores, change his clothes, and drive back into LA to meet with Tammy. <<<*E!*>>> Leaning over to pick a minuscule piece of lint from the front of his good pair of jeans, he noticed his boots had picked up a light sheen of dust. He rubbed the boots on the back of his legs. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves and retucked his plaid western shirt into the waist of his jeans. Finally, ready to face the apartment's occupant, Johnny rapped his knuckles on the hollow wooden door. In mere moments, he heard the dead bolt slide open and chain lock being rattled. The door swung open to reveal Tammy in a pair of short jeans shorts and a white midriff top that left her beautiful, tanned abdomen for all to adore. And, Johnny took advantage of it. "Wow, Tammy. You look great!" "So do you, Johnny." "Let's get some lunch. I'm starved." Tammy laughed. "Now why doesn't that surprise me?" Johnny grinned and pulled his shades out of his pocket, while Tammy grabbed her purse and started locking up the apartment. Taking her arm, Johnny steered her out of the apartment hallway to his Land Rover. "I thought we'd grab some Italian food over at Ambrose's." "Great. What're we going to do this afternoon?" "I don't know. What sounds like fun to you?" "Well, I've done a little hang gliding. There's enough wind coming off the ocean, and I thought we might try it." "Hang gliding, huh?" Johnny pulled into the lot next to the restaurant. He glanced over at his date. "Let's talk about it over lunch." <<<*E!*>>> Despite Johnny's misgivings, he and Tammy finished lunch and headed north on the Pacific Coast Highway to a small hang glider outfit. The billboard directing travelers to the business proclaimed "Bertram's Hang Gliding Outfitters: Lessons, Equipment, and Service." Tammy hadn't done any hang gliding in over a year, and Johnny had only rescued hang gliders. They decided to get a couple lessons from someone with experience. Johnny didn't plan on being on the receiving end of a rescue involving hang gliders. As he put the Rover into park and shut down the engine, Johnny could see several people in various stages of preflight harnessing, flying, and post-flight recovery. He and Tammy exchanged nervous smiles. "I'm about as ready as I'm gonna be." Johnny opened his door and met Tammy at the front of the Rover. They walked to the small metal building that harbored the main store. The interior was dark and stuffy despite open vents on the roof and windows braced open along the top of the walls. "What can I do for you folks?" A middle-aged man behind the counter along the right side of the room called out to the new customers. He was a little over six feet tall with bleached blond hair. Corded muscles stretched the polo shirt across his broad chest and arms. The shirt repeated the information on the billboard out front. "We, ah, were wondering about some lessons," Tammy offered as she and Johnny made their way through the boxes and shelves of merchandise to the counter. Several colorful hang gliders were suspended along the rafters in the center of the building. "What level of lessons do you need?" Tammy glanced at Johnny before continuing. "Probably beginner. I've done very little gliding, and my friend hasn't done any." "Looks like you came to the right place." The man stuck his hand over the counter to shake Tammy and Johnny's hands. "Bert's the name. Let's set you up with our starter lessons with Mike." Bert looked at a schedule with dates and times on it. "He has some openings later this afternoon, at two o'clock." Johnny looked at his watch; it was 12:40. "Sounds great. We'll be back at two." "Feel free to hang out and look around. Let me know if I can help ya." Bert smiled at the handsome couple before turning his attention to the inventory list he was working on before they came in. Johnny and Tammy wandered through the small building, eventually heading out the front door. They decided to take a few minutes to watch the hang gliding lessons and then take a little walk on the beach until it was time for their lessons. The steady breeze off the Pacific Ocean ruffled Johnny's dark locks and blew Tammy's long, wavy, ash blond hair around her face. She pulled a rubber band out of her pocket and finger combed her hair back into a ponytail. She walked closer to the water's edge, while he stayed further up on the beach to keep his boots out of the foaming surf. A comfortable feeling of belonging and sharing surrounded the couple. They exchanged more information about each other, their families, their work, their desires. They walked and talked until it was time to head back to Bertram's. Johnny kept his concerns about the dangers of hang gliding to himself. He had rescued some very severely injured people who had been hang gliding. I'll see how Mike handles the training, and then decide if I'm gonna actually fly. While Tammy waited outside, Johnny paid for their lessons. For fifteen dollars apiece, they would get ninety minutes of instructions and the use of protective equipment. He handed Tammy a helmet and goggles. Walking up the small rise behind Bertram's, they saw four hang gliders, wings extended, sitting in a multicolored row like a haphazard rainbow. Sun glinted off the metal frames where the leaning gliders exposed the metal struts to the light. Tammy and Johnny completed a group of eight people for the two o'clock lesson. "If everyone would gather around, we can get started." Mike was waving his arms to direct people next to the first glider on the hill. "As most of you know, my name's Mike. I've been hang gliding for about five years. Does anyone here have any experience with gliders?" Tammy raised her hand shyly. Mike nodded at her with a questioning look. "I flew a couple times a few years ago." No one else offered any information. "Great, I'm going to teach you the essentials to get into flight and back down again today. We're going to take off from this slight rise and drift down twenty to thirty yards and land again." Mike went on to explain what each piece of the hang glider was called and what it was used for, the basics of thermal and ridge lifts, how to steer and change speeds, and how to take off and land. He then explained the harness while buckling himself into one. Hefting a glider, he stepped into the middle of the craft, took a few trotting steps, and launched into a low glide from the hill down to the open field behind the store building. That looked fairly straight forward, Johnny thought as he paid close attention to the instructor. But, he had been through enough new equipment training to know that the experts often made a difficult task look deceptively easy. The harness looked like many he had worn for rescues. It was the mechanics of take off, flight, and touch down that worried him. Tammy was wide-eyed and eager to try out the glider. Johnny helped her get the harness adjusted to her slender frame as Mike circulated among the four pairs of students. When the first four people to use the hang gliders were harnessed, Mike assisted them each in turn to pick up the sixty-pound crafts. He ran along side each student shouting encouragement and instructions as the pilots trotted down the small hill and managed to glide several yards toward the store. Johnny ran beside Tammy as she took her turn at flying. He marveled as her feet left the ground, and she floated with a beautiful smile creasing her face. She pushed forward on the control bar reducing airflow over the wings and brought the glider back to earth. Taking a few running steps, Tammy brought the glider to a stop and settled it to the ground. Her eyes sparkled, and her laugh was infectious. Johnny grinned and chuckled at her delight. He helped unbuckle her from the glider and the harness. Together they carried the glider back up the small hill. Johnny slowly readjusted the harness straps to fit his slightly bigger frame and climbed into it. Mike appeared at his side a few moments later and double-checked the rigging. He helped Johnny attach the harness to the glider frame. Taking a deep breath, Johnny hefted the glider to his shoulders. He flashed a tentative grin at Tammy and started down the hill. Between the wind off the ocean and the quick trot he had used, Johnny was quickly airborne. He moved his hands from the sides to the control bar at the bottom of the triangle. Exhilarated, he pulled the control bar back to get a few more feet of lift. Nearing the end of the practice field, he paid attention to the shouted instructions from Mike. He pushed the control bar forward slightly and felt the glider loose speed and the nose lift. At Mike's direction, Johnny shoved the bar all the way forward to stall the glider and land. His forward speed was a little fast, and he had over estimated his height off the ground. When his feet finally touched the dirt, he stumbled and plowed forward into the gravel and sand near the end of the parking lot behind the store. His thin shirtsleeves ripped away, exposing his elbows and forearms to the abrasive dirt. Fortunately, his jeans were made of tougher material and withstood the scraping along the ground as the glider continued for a few yards before coming to rest nose down. Why me? Ouch, that smarts. Johnny inspected what he could see of his arms to see how much damage was done. The road rash-like scrapes stung but didn't have any embedded gravel that he could see and very little bleeding. Guess I'll live. He pushed himself up out of the dirt and found Mike beside him. "Are you okay, Buddy?" Mike asked as he started unhooking Johnny from the glider frame. "Just skinned my arms a little. I'm fine." Johnny crawled out from under the glider. "Oh, Johnny! Are you okay?" Tammy was trotting down to where Johnny was removing his harness. "I'm fine, Tammy." He concentrated on getting out of the harness. "You're bleeding," Tammy observed as she stood beside him. "I just skinned my arms. I'll be fine." "Bert's gotta first aid kit in the store," Mike offered. "I'll take the glider back up. Why don't you take a few minutes to clean up and get some bandages on your arms?" "I'll come with you," Tammy added as Johnny turned for the building. "I'm thinking that having a nurse along when I'm hang gliding is a good thing." Johnny grinned at Tammy. She hooked her arm around his waist and fell in step with him. Johnny winced as Tammy took full advantage of her role as nurse. She scrubbed his elbows with a soapy piece of gauze. He sighed with relief when she finished and had him rinse. He talked her into leaving the abrasions open to the air. He didn't want to have to pull gauze back off the wounds later. As they exited the glider store the breeze off the ocean stung as it hit the open, scraped flesh below his rolled up shirtsleeves. Tammy and Johnny had about twenty minutes left on their lessons. So, they climbed back up on the slight ridge and had another short flight apiece. Johnny managed to land standing up the second time. Maybe I'm getting the hang of this after all, he thought with a chuckle to himself for the unintended pun. <<<*E!*>>> "I'm telling ya, Roy, Tammy and I had a great time the past two days." Johnny leaned against the sink waiting while his partner finished dressing for their shift. "What did ya do that was so great?" "You probably won't believe this, but we had hang gliding lesson." Johnny watched for Roy's reaction to his announcement. Roy looked over at his friend to see if he was being serious. "Hang gliding?" He noticed the scabbed over abrasions on Johnny's arms and elbows. "Is that where you skinned your arms?" Johnny glanced at his arms. "Yeah. I missed my first landing and hit the ground. But, we took lessons both days. I was really digging it late yesterday afternoon. We're gonna try it again pretty soon." Johnny followed Roy into the apparatus bay. "Why don't you come along? I think you'd like it." Roy slowly shook his head. "I don't know about that, Johnny. JoAnne's got lots of chores for me to finish before I can plan on any leisure time. She's bound and determined to repaint the entire inside of our home before Thanksgiving." "That's becoming an annual ritual, isn't it, Roy?" Chet barged into the conversation as the paramedics walked into the kitchen area. "What's Gage trying to get you to do, now?" Johnny rolled his eyes at the stocky Irishman. "I was talking to Roy, Chet." "And, now you're talking to me. Ain't that great?" Johnny took a small sip of the hot coffee in his cup. He knew that Chet could banter with him for twenty-four hours straight. So, for the better part of valor, Johnny decided to drop his conversation with Roy until they had some time alone. Marco jumped into the silence. "Hey, did you guys hear that the warehouse fire last shift was ruled an arson?" "Do they have a suspect?" Roy asked as he sat down at the table. "I don't think so. But, they found burn patterns that were suspicious." "I wish I could understand why people think setting things on fire is a thrill." Johnny shook his head. <<<*E!*>>> The turnout coat brushed over the abraded skin on Johnny's arm, making him wince as he pulled it on in preparation for searching the blazing structure. The sun was out in full force, making the temperature rise above normal for October in Southern California. The station had been called out to a residential fire just after lunch. He shrugged into the SCBA gear and walked after his partner. <<<*E!*>>> Shivers traveled up and down his spine. Parks watched the firefighters suit up to attack their enemy. Knowing that people were trapped inside made the adrenaline rush even better. Tony could barely contain himself and tried to look like other bystanders. He had watched the people in this neighborhood for a week before choosing this house. He glanced at his watch and saw that he would have to leave soon. His new job was about five miles away. Tony knew he needed to make an effort to keep his new boss happy. The necessities of life required money on a regular basis. And, money came from employment. It was difficult to turn away from the fire scene before the firemen came out with the two kids and their mother, but Parks did it anyway. <<<*E!*>>> The neighbors had reported that there were generally a mother and her two children at the house during the day. Chet and Marco were pulling the inch and a half to the front door to get to work on the fire. They were hoping to get the fire knocked down, so that the paramedics could search the house more safely. Johnny and Roy ducked by the water stream and danced around the flames into the back part of the house. Smoke filled the rooms and hallways, making the search as difficult as usual. Johnny glanced up the stairs and back at Roy. He crossed the dining room and tapped Roy on the shoulder, indicating he was headed upstairs to search. Roy nodded and headed off to the kitchen. The fire seemed to be dying down. Stanley had made his way to the back door and opened it for more ventilation. Taking the stairs two at a time, Johnny was at the top of the stairs in no time. He moved quickly to check out the rooms on the second floor. As he moved toward the front of the house, the heat and smoke intensified. Stepping into the master bedroom that covered the front of the house, he was next to the bed when he felt the floor bow under his slight weight. Taking care with each step, he moved quickly, but carefully, to the wall and a door to the master bath. The door was shut. He pushed against it and tried to turn the knob. It was stuck tight. He kicked the door near the door knob. He moved back a few feet and rammed it with his shoulder. He bounced off on his first try. That's a sturdy bathroom door. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. This time the wood splintered, and he fell through onto something soft and lumpy. Picking himself up, he moved off of a heavyset woman. She had a towel over her face. He pulled the towel off and could see that she was breathing okay. Looking around, he peered into the bathtub and found two children, also covered with wet towels.  Johnny wondered why she hadn't just walked out of the house with her two kids before the smoke got too thick. Mentally shrugging at the woman's actions, he picked up the toddlers, one in each arm, and headed back to the stairway. Again, the bedroom floor felt mushy under his careful tread. Reaching the main floor, Johnny rushed out of the house with the children. Roy turned to see his partner scrambling across the living room toward the front door. He followed Johnny out of the house and grabbed the little girl. Johnny used his now empty right arm to whip his mask off. "Roy, there's a woman upstairs in the master bathroom near the front of the house. She's gonna need a couple of people to carry her out safely. I'm going back in." After setting the little boy he carried on the grass near the squad, Johnny turned to find his captain and get some help to carry the woman out. He sprinted to the back of the squad and grabbed a stokes stretcher. Spying Captain Stanley near the front door of the still smoking structure, Johnny trotted up to his leader. "Cap, I need some help bringing out a woman from the second floor. The floor was getting mushy when I walked across with the two kids. We need to hurry." "Sure, John. Chet, help John. I'll back up Marco on the hose." Chet and Johnny rushed into the house and sprinted up the stairs. They were both breathing heavily by the time they reached the master bedroom. "Be careful, Chet. The floor's not very solid. Let's walk by the walls." They edged around the room, but they could still feel the floor sagging. "She's in the bathroom." When they reached the small room, they wasted no time getting the woman loaded. Chet and Johnny headed back out of the bathroom with Chet leading the way. They retraced their steps, hoping to get out of the room before the floor fell into the first level. Just a few more feet, Johnny thought as he tried to will the floor to remain intact. Then, Johnny put his foot down and felt the floor continue to give under his tread. Oh shit, here we go. He let go of the stokes as he dropped through the floor. The bottom of his turnout coat caught on the flooring under the green shag carpet that covered the bedroom floor. The straps on his breathing gear rode up under his arms. The oxygen canister and bunched up turnout gear wedged him in the hole. He could feel the heat from the fire below on his legs. A shiver ran up his body as an ice-cold spray drenched his lower extremities. The temperature difference took his already short breath away for a moment. The pressure of his SCBA equipment made breathing difficult. Johnny panted as he watched Chet scurry out of the room and grabbed at what ever he could to keep from falling through. I hope they hurry. Johnny wasn't looking forward to dropping the fifteen to twenty feet to the living room floor. Flooring and ceiling material scraped along his sides as he slid down by inches. Chet heard the cracking as the floor gave way and moved forward to get away from the new hole. When Johnny dropped his end of the stokes, Chet felt like his arms were going to be pulled from their sockets. He dragged the litter toward the hallway. When he reached a more stable area, he set the stretcher down and checked on the victim to be sure she was still breathing. Her respirations were a little fast, but rhythmic. Looking back into the master bedroom, he saw Johnny trying to hold on to the edge of the floor. He was stuck with his SCBA preventing him from dropping through to the first floor, for now. Chet knew that Marco and Captain Stanley were probably still working below them in the living room, searching for more hot spots. Stretching lengthwise on the floor to distribute his weight, Chet tried to reach Johnny and pull him out. But, the floor started giving and Johnny slipped a few more inches through the hole. Chet backed up quickly. He heard a scraping sound and saw the heavy dresser in the corner of the room slide a few inches down the sloping floor. Chet pulled his mask off and yelled at Johnny. "I need to get some rope. Be right back!" Johnny waved and grabbed at the floor to keep from slipping further. Chet scooted back into the hallway and picked up one end of the stokes. He dragged the stretcher to the top of the stairs. Trotting as quickly as his gear would allow, Chet returned to the living room. "Cap, Johnny's stuck." Chet waved his arms in the direction of Johnny's legs extending down from the ceiling. "We need some rope and manpower. We gotta hurry, man. The dresser is headed his way. The victim's in a stokes at the top of the stairs." "You got it, Chet." Stanley tapped Marco on the shoulder to let him know he was stepping away. When he got outside, he noticed that both of the children were sitting up and looked fine. "Roy, Johnny fell part way through the second floor. Can Mike keep an eye on the kids? We're gonna need you inside. I wanta make sure Johnny's not injured before we start hauling around on 'im." "Sure Cap. These two are doing just fine. Rampart just wants to get a look at 'em." Roy turned their care over to Mike and the ambulance attendants, who had just arrived. He grabbed the trauma box and more rope and sprinted after Hank. Stopping just inside the front door, he was dismayed to see his partner's legs hanging out of the ceiling. Marco was spraying Johnny's legs and what was left of the fire in large sweeping circles. The smoke had cleared somewhat. Roy tried to get a good look at Johnny's legs to see if he had any injuries. But, the water had washed away any blood that may have been present. He turned and headed up the stairs. Stopping beside the victim in the stokes, Roy did a preliminary survey of her breathing and heart rate. She'll be okay for a few more minutes, but we need to get her outside. Continuing down the hall, he came to a halt behind Stanley in the doorway. Hank stepped aside to give Roy access to the room. Roy looked over at Johnny and saw that his partner's eyes were squeezed shut. He wondered if Johnny would be able to get a rope around himself if they threw an end to him. Johnny had continued to slip slowly through the hole. A few more inches and the SCBA and turnout gear would no longer keep him wedged in the hole. Looking around the room, Roy also saw that the dresser was moving out away from the wall and headed for the dip in the floor that was currently occupied by his partner. "Johnny!" Roy yelled across the room. He was rewarded with Johnny looking at him through the airmask that was still positioned on his face. He could see that Johnny was concentrating on not wiggling and hanging on to the floor. "We're going to throw you a rope. Can you put it on under your arms?" Johnny's muffled response was barely audible, "I'll try." He closed his eyes again in concentration. The pressure on his chest kept increasing, keeping him short of breath. Roy tied a slipknot in the rope and gathered enough rope in loops to reach his partner. "Here it comes, Johnny!" He threw the rope, letting the end loop land directly in front of Johnny. "Put the rope around you!" Roy watched intently as Johnny let go of his tenuous hold with one arm and tried to get the rope over his head and under his arm. With his heart in his throat, Roy reached toward Johnny, as the fragile grip his partner had on the floor was lost. "Aahh," Johnny cried as he slipped through the hole. The rope was caught on one arm and followed him down the hole. Roy watched in horror as the dresser toppled over and slid toward the same hole Johnny had just disappeared through. The large, wooden ddresser stopped just before it reached the gap in the floor. White-hot pain lanced through Johnny's leg as he landed in a heap on the living room floor on his left leg and side. His helmet bounced off his head and his head bounced off the floor, sending him into blessed, painless unconsciousness. Roy scrambled to his feet, grabbed the trauma kit, and rushed back down the stairs. Stanley and Chet stopped to pick up the stokes and its victim and followed Roy downstairs. They continued on across the living room, skirting the two paramedics and headed out to the lawn by the squad. Chet retrieved the backboard and sped back into the house. Hank stayed with the victim and put some oxygen on her. She started coming around almost immediately. He hauled the handie talkie out of his pocket and reported the Code I, requesting another ambulance. "Mike keep an eye on her; I'm going to get Roy out here to treat her." Stanley trotted back into the building. I know Roy's not going to like it, but he's needed outside. The rest of us can get Johnny out to him. He reached the clutch of men around Johnny and tapped Roy on the shoulder. "Roy, I need you outside to check out the victim. We'll get Johnny on the board and bring him to ya." Hank glanced up at the hole in the ceiling. He could just see the edge of the dresser. "C'mon, guys. Let's get him outta here before that dresser drops through the ceiling." Roy gave his leader a pained look but obeyed him none-the-less. With a last glance at Johnny's unconscious form, he headed outside to treat his three smoke inhalation victims. The rest of the group squatted next to Johnny and prepared to maneuver him onto the spinal board. Chet carefully fitted a cervical collar around Johnny's neck. Marco dropped the hose for a few moments to help get his crew mate situated. They carefully removed his SCBA gear. Placing the board behind Johnny's back, Hank, Chet, and Marco rolled him onto it on a count of three. Johnny's arm flopped out beside him. With a grimace, Chet straightened the left leg that Johnny had landed on. Johnny moaned, and his body stiffened in response. "Sorry, Johnny. We're gonna carry you outside." Chet kept up a running commentary to let Johnny know what was happening, in case he was any where near conscious. In a few moments they set him down next to the lady in the stokes. While Roy ministered to the smoke inhalation victims, Mike fitted Johnny with an oxygen mask. He started collecting vital signs as Chet and Marco returned to the house to finish putting out the fire and overhauling the structure. Roy was just finishing talking to Rampart. Doctor Brackett wanted to see the woman and her two kids, but he didn't order any treatments besides the oxygen that had already been initiated. Setting the handset on the bio phone back on the case, Roy gestured to the ambulance attendants to load the first three victims. He turned quickly to start treating Johnny, who was still unconscious. Mike gave him the vital signs he had obtained. When Roy ran his hands down Johnny's body, he found a fair amount of swelling on his left ankle. His hands also elicited a low moan when he felt Johnny's left ribs. "I'll need a splint, Cap'n," Roy glanced up at Hank and reached for the bio phone. He contacted the hospital and brought Kelly Brackett up to date on Johnny's condition. Brackett ordered an IV, a leg splint, and monitor breathing. Roy acknowledged the orders. He wished he could give his friend something for the pain that he was going to cause with the splint, but with a head injury, there was no analgesic forthcoming. And, with the loss of consciousness, Johnny had to be treated as a head injury. He strung up the IV bag and tubing. After getting the IV inserted and running, Roy applied the splint. When he was wrapping the last of the elastic tape around the boards, Johnny began moving his arms. Stanley squatted beside his junior paramedic and held his IV arm still. Oh my God. My head's killing me. And, oh man, my leg! Johnny moaned, and he opened his eyes. The sunlight pierced his vision and made the headache that pounded in his brain more severe. He quickly closed his eyes to reduce the pain. "Johnny? Can you open your eyes?" Roy hovered near Johnny's head. Even though he'd just as soon slip back in to the blackness, Johnny knew that Roy would be beside himself with worry. So, Johnny pried his eyes open against the glare of the afternoon sun. "Roy? My… my leg….hurz." Roy smiled at his friend. "Yeah, looks like you sprained or fractured your ankle. How's your breathing?" Gee, Johnny thought, now that he mentioned it, I do feel short of breath. "It's … kinda… hard to…. breathe." "You've got some O2 on. The ambulance is here. We'll be leaving in a few minutes." Johnny gave a slight nod of understanding and closed his eyes. When Roy tried to arouse him to let him know they were going to move him, Johnny was unconscious, again. Probably for the better, anyway. Roy knew that moving would be painful for the injured man. They lifted him into the ambulance. Stanley told Roy he would have someone pick him up at the hospital. Roy quickly glanced at his Captain and returned his attention to Johnny. He knew that Johnny was going to be in a lot of pain, when he became conscious. Roy just hoped they would have the head injury ruled out by then and give him something for pain. He kept a close eye on his partner during the ride to Rampart. Johnny would moan occasionally, but he never regained consciousness. Roy trotted next to the stretcher as they wheeled into the Emergency Department. Following Dixie's instructions, Roy helped transfer Johnny to an exam table. Doctor Brackett stepped up to the side of the table and started his exam as Dixie started cutting off Johnny's uniform. "Pupils sluggish but reactive…superficial lacerations to bilateral chest…fractured left ribs probable…probable left ankle fracture. I take it he landed on his left side, Roy?" "Yeah, Doc. He fell about fifteen feet and landed on his left side." "Did he regain consciousness on the way in?" "No, he just moaned a couple times. He woke up just before we loaded him, but just for a second." "Okay, Dix. Let's get a trauma panel for labs. And, I want skull, complete spine, chest, and left leg x-rays, stat." Doctor Brackett guided Roy out of the room as Dixie prepared to obtain a blood sample and order the x-rays. "I think he's gonna be okay, Roy. I don't think he has much more than a concussion, and the ribs and leg will heal. He's just going to have to be our guest for a few days….again." Roy grinned at Dr. Brackett's prediction. "He does have a habit of staying at this overpriced hotel, doesn't he?" "Yep. I'll let you know how he's doing, when I get the labs and x-rays back." Glancing down the hall, Roy saw that Chet had arrived to take him back to the station. "Okay, Doc. See ya later." "Bye, Roy." Doctor Brackett ducked into the next room. "How's he doing, Roy?" Chet asked anxiously, when Roy reached the end of the hall. "Brackett says he's gonna be okay." "That's good. Do ya think he'll be able to have visitors tomorrow?" "I don't know, Chet. Let's call in the morning and check with Dr. Brackett." Chet agreed and climbed into the shotgun seat of the squad. "This is gonna interrupt his hang gliding." "Hang gliding?" Chet was amazed. "What's a accident-prone guy like Gage doing with hang gliders?" "Evidently, he and Tammy were flying them on his days off this week." "Geez, isn't our job dangerous enough?" "I know, Chet. I couldn't believe it either. He talked like he really enjoyed it." "Well, these injuries should put him out of commission for a while." <<<*E!*>>> "Mr. Gage….John…John!" Pulling his eyes open a crack to see who was calling his name so persistently, Johnny was greeted with a gnawing ache in his left ankle and a persistent pain in his left side. On his second try, he managed to get his tongue unstuck from the dry membranes inside his mouth to lick his dry, cracked lips. Keeping his eyes closed, he started making tiny wiggles with his arms and legs. The movements of his left ankle were quickly aborted, when pain shot up his leg. His left leg felt heavy and was propped up on pillows. Finally opening his eyes, he looked around the familiar confines of a semi-private patient room at Rampart. The window showed Johnny that night had fallen outside the hospital. He turned his head slowly back to center to keep the room from spinning out of control and making him more nauseated than the headache already had. His careful movements earlier had demonstrated no acute pain in his arms. So, he brought his right arm slowly to his forehead to try and massage away some of the pain that hammered in his head. The young nursing assistant was Oriental and spoke only broken English. Bringing his right arm down away from his forehead, she smiled at the dark-haired man and took his vital signs. A few minutes later she was headed back out the door. Catching the tubing snaking from his wrist in his vision, he followed it across his chest and up to a bottle hanging from a metal hook from the ceiling. He watched the drip for a few minutes and noticed it was set at a slow rate. Probably don't want to add too much extra fluid in case I have a head injury. Even stuck in bed with job-related injuries, his paramedic training came to the forefront of his awareness. The darkness outside the window prompted him to take advantage of the empty room and get some more shut-eye. Maybe this darn headache will be gone the next time I wake up. Johnny cautiously draped his left arm over his eyes, taking care to keep from pulling on his tender left ribs. He was just getting ready to drift off to sleep when the door to his hospital room swung open, letting a flash of light from the hallway spill across the bed. Moving his arm, he could see a large, dark, hulking shape looming in the doorway.  "Johnny?" "Roy?" "Yeah. We had a run, and I snuck up here while I'm waiting for Dwyer to get back with the squad." Roy moved closer to the bed and let the door swing shut. He could see where he was going by a small light inset in the wall near the door. "How ya feelin'?" "Not too bad. My ribs're tender, my ankle hurts, and my head's still killing me. But, Brackett said I could go home tomorrow, barring any complications, of course." "I'll call before we get off shift and see if you're released." "Hey. Thanks, Roy. Could ya bring me my civvies from the station?" "Sure, Johnny. No problem." "Maybe then we could get some breakfast." "Sounds like a good plan. I'll see ya tomorrow. Get some sleep, Junior." "Like the nurses are gonna let that happen." Roy nodded his agreement. With a possible concussion, Johnny would have frequent neurological checks ordered by Brackett. They both had been through the drill too many times not to know it by heart. Roy ducked out of the room and headed back to ER to find Dwyer. He was always grateful when Dwyer took one of Johnny's shifts and kept him from working with Brice. <<<*E!*>>> Parks pulled his car up to the curb in front of the burned out hulk. His eight-hour shift had seemed like sixteen. Thinking about the fire that raged a few miles away, he absentmindedly went about his new job. Luckily, restocking supermarket shelves didn't require a lot of brain power. The building was just as he imagined it would be. The acrid smell of smoke hung in the air. The two-story house was just a pile of blackened rubble. It was a total loss. Tony walked around the charred material, trying to etch in his mind the total disaster that he had wrought. He started planning his next fire. <<<*E!*>>> The east-facing hospital window was glowing with morning sunshine. Johnny turned gently onto his left side to get away from the bright light that was not helping his headache. Although not as severe as last night, the pain still throbbed through his cranium with a steady beat. When his door was flung open, he groaned at yet another neurological check, which the nurses performed diligently throughout the long night. I know I would've gotten better sleep at home. "Morning, Johnny," Brackett offered as he opened the patient chart he brought into the room with him. "Hmm…How're you feeling?" He looked up from the ringed folder. "Not too bad, Doc. I'm ready to go home." Johnny tried to look wide-eyed and bushy-tailed, as well as pain-free. He gritted his teeth and bit back a moan as Dr. Brackett ran his hands along Johnny's tender ribs. Except for a tiny gasp, he even kept his pain to himself as Brackett palpated his left ankle. Kel looked at his injured friend with sympathy. But, he finished his exam, regardless. "Well, John, it looks like you dodged the bullet, again. Your ankle has a bad sprain, but it isn't fractured. Unfortunately, the pain from sprains often lasts longer than a break." Johnny nodded his understanding. "But, I can still go home today, this morning, right?" Brackett chuckled. "Sure, John. I'm going to have PT fit you with a walking boot for your ankle. You need to wear it whenever you're weight-bearing for at least two weeks. When they're done, you can be released." A bright smile filled Johnny's face at Dr. Brackett's announcement. "Hey, thanks, Doc." "Your welcome, Johnny. Take it easy the next few days. I'm going to order an anti-inflammatory for you. Take it at least every six hours for the next forty-eight hours. After that you can take it prn. Any questions?" "I gotta be off work for two weeks, huh?" Johnny frowned. "Yep, and thank your lucky stars I'm letting you back on duty that fast." Kel continued to write notes on Johnny's chart. "Okay, Doc. No argument from me." "See ya, Johnny." "Bye, Dr. Brackett." Johnny watched the busy doctor whisk out the door to see the rest of his patients. He curled back up in bed to wait for the inevitable nursing rounds and disgusting breakfast tray. Roy'll be here soon. Then, I can get out of here and get some real rest at home. <<<*E!*>>> Now this is more like it! Johnny grinned as Roy drove up the driveway to Johnny's ranch house. He flung the door open and got out of the truck standing on his right leg until he could get his cane out to balance with. The cool morning had a slight breeze that brought the scent of pine and the ever-so-slight odor of manure from the barnyard. Johnny took a deep breath, stopping when his ribs started hurting. Ah, fresh air. "Need any help, Junior?" Roy had reached Johnny's side of the car and carried his friend's belongings. "Nope, I got it, Roy." He gingerly made his way up the porch steps and let himself into the house. "You need some help with the animals?" "Naw, they'll be okay for a while. I'll just take it easy and do a little at a time. It's not like I'll be going back to work any time soon. Brackett says I have to wear the boot for two weeks." Johnny sat on the couch and watched Roy set his stuff on the coffee table. "If I can't help you in any way, I'm gonna head on home." "Are you sure you don't want to stay out here a while. It sounds like JoAnne has lots of work for you at home." "Yeah, but the sooner I get started, the sooner I get done. Call if you need anything." Roy looked longingly at the comfortable position Johnny had assumed on the couch. Then, he gave a small wave and headed out the door. Johnny heard the truck start up and rumble down the drive. Checking his watch, Johnny saw that it was already after ten. He picked up the phone from the end table and dialed Tammy's number. "Hi, Tammy. We, uh, won't be able to go hang gliding today…No, I'm feeling pretty good, but I sprained my ankle at work yesterday…How? Well, I, uh, fell through a floor at a structure fire. But, I'm okay…Yes, Dr. Brackett released me…Just a mild concussion, bruised ribs, and a sprained ankle…I gotta wear a walking boot for two weeks…Yeah, maybe we could go out for dinner or a movie later in the week…Okay, I'll call ya in a couple days. Bye, Tammy." Johnny hung up the phone. He pushed up from the couch and got a cold glass of milk. Shaking a pill from the prescription bottle, he tossed back a pain pill and finished off the milk. I think I'll try a nap before I feed and water the animals. <<<*E!*>>> Despite being off work, the two weeks passed quickly for Johnny. He managed to get caught up on some work around the ranch in the second week, taking his time with the light projects. But, nothing compared with returning to work. He even wore his uniform to work the Friday after Brackett released him. He whistled loudly, but without an identifiable tune, as he sauntered into the day room to snag his first cup of station coffee. "Hey, Junior. Sounds like you had a good time off." Roy observed his partner enter the kitchen area. "My ankle hasn't bothered me too bad these past few days. So, I got a few things done that had been waiting for some extra time." Johnny grinned. "Tammy and I had a chance to spend some time together, too." "Glad to have ya back." Roy went back to reading the morning paper until they had to get lined up for roll call. "Wow, look who's here everyone. I think his name is Gage. He's not here very often, so I have trouble remembering his name." Chet teased Johnny. "Good try, Chet. But, even you can't spoil my good mood." Johnny tried to ignore the grinning Irishman. "Why would I want to spoil your good mood, Johnny?" "I don't know, Chet. But, I've often asked myself that same question." Johnny glanced at Roy, who was grinning. Stanley stepped into the doorway, "Roll call, gentlemen." He disappeared back into the apparatus bay. The three men gathered around the table scrambled after their captain. None of them wanted to be singled out for latrine duty, if at all possible. Hank looked at his men and delivered the bad news as succinctly as he could. "We have a new arsonist. You probably all ready heard that the warehouse fire from last week was the work of an arsonist. Well, the Chief called last shift. The house fire where Johnny was hurt has been ruled as arson, also. It's unfortunate that the perpetrator doesn't seem to mind that other people get hurt. In fact the arson squad thinks he may be getting his kicks from putting people in danger-firefighters and civilians. "So, keep you eyes peeled for any unusual burn patterns. The police have been alerted. They're going to be watching the crowds that gather for any unusual people, too." The crew of Station 51 looked at each other. None of them could understand how people got their jollies from setting fires. The presence of the arsonist would make the district more dangerous until he or she was caught. <<<*E!*>>> "I'll meet you at Rampart," Johnny called to Roy as he closed the ambulance doors and gave them a couple of slaps. Roy just gave a little nod; he was busy monitoring the respirations of the smoke inhalation victim they had pulled from a factory fire. Johnny wiped a grimy hand across his forehead, pushing his smoke-scented hair off his face. The factory had been fully involved when they had arrived. A security guard was overcome with smoke as he tried to make sure everyone was out. It took Roy and Johnny at least twenty minutes to find him in the large warehouse. He wasn't breathing when they found him. Hauling him outside as quickly as possible, they started rescue breathing. Further assessment revealed his heart rhythm was irregular. Shortly after they attached him to the heart monitor he had gone into ventricular fibrillation. Working in concert, the two paramedics required twenty minutes to get him stable enough for transport. Johnny looked at his watch and realized it was nearly seven. They had been at the fire for over an hour already. And, the call came before they had time to fix supper. As if it could tell time, Johnny's stomach gave a loud rumble. Man, I hope we get time to eat before we get toned out, again. The runs had come nearly back-to-back that entire day. Sometimes, they would manage to get back to the station and get the next call. Usually, they were sent to another situation before they even got all the way back to the fire station. As he took his time putting away extra equipment, Johnny smiled thinking about how well he and Tammy got along last week. He was hoping they could start doing more outdoor activities when she was off next week. It was going to be a long weekend with Tammy working at the hospital both days. <<<*E!*>>> Hank strode into the day room. His eyes rested on the two paramedics sitting beside each other at the table. They both looked bone weary. While the engine crew was able to get close to six hours of sleep, the squad had been called out three times with only a few hours of sleep. I hate asking one of them to stay. But, one of the B Shift medics called in sick. Captain Houkreider had called headquarters, but no one was available. "Roy, Johnny. B Shift needs a replacement paramedic. I know you guys just came off a rough shift, but headquarters can't round anyone up-probably because it's a weekend. Would either of you be able to pull a second shift?" Roy and Johnny glanced at each other. Johnny managed to speak first. "I'll stay, Cap." "Johnny, you're just as tired as I am." Roy argued. "Yeah, but Tammy's working today and tomorrow, anyway. I might as well work. I can always use the money." Johnny flashed a tired grin. "Guess I better get out of my bunkers and into a fresh uniform. Have a good weekend, Roy." Johnny pushed himself to his feet and shuffled off to the locker room. Roy was secretly thankful that Johnny agreed to work another shift. Even if JoAnne had some chores for him today, he could at least get a full night's rest tonight. He followed Johnny into the locker room. "Maybe you'll have a slow day, Johnny," Roy offered as he reached for his locker handle. "Either way, it's only twenty-four hours. I can do that." "And, Tammy's working the weekend, right?" Roy smiled at his partner. Johnny finished buttoning his shirt. He grinned. "Yeah, and I'll get to see her on runs. I'll probably see lots more of Tammy by working an extra shift. That can't be all bad." "I can see your logic, Junior." Roy finished changing into civilian clothes. "Have a good shift. See ya Monday." "Okay, Roy. Don't let JoAnne work you too hard." "I won't." Roy waved at the rest of the crew on his way out of the station. <<<*E!*>>> Johnny let Bob Cochran, the B shift paramedic, drive the squad. He figured it would be safer for everyone involved. Tracing the route from the station to the address the dispatcher gave them for the structure fire, Johnny directed Bob. They could see black smoke spiraling skyward. It looked like the fire had a good head start on them. Bob pulled up to the curb beyond the fire hydrant, leaving room for the engine to pull in behind them. Captain Houkreider dispatched the crew to various responsibilities. He also called for additional engines. Johnny examined the four-story apartment house as he shrugged into his gear. The smoke was pouring out of the upper two floors. Evidently, the fire had been burning for a while before anyone called the Fire Department or an accelerant had been added to the mix. Once his SCBA gear was in place, Johnny followed Bob into the structure to look for anyone still inside the building. <<<*E!*>>> Standing across the street, Tony Parks tried to act as nonchalant as the rest of the spectators. He bounced on his toes as excitement flooded his system. All of the people gathered were here because of him. I made all of this equipment and these people appear. He giggled, until people started looking at him. Struggling to compose himself, Tony moved down the street to get a better view of the action. A ladder truck had arrived and was extending its ladder to pour some water on the roof of the blazing structure. Tony watched with anticipation as the white ladder slowly extended. It swung in a long arc to a position beside the roof. Water jetted from the nozzle as the firefighter riding the ladder directed the stream toward the flames leaping several feet off the roof. Tony decided he had used enough kerosene to help get the fire off to a good start. I guess ol' man Roberts'll have to find a new apartment building to be a superintendent in. That'll teach him for firing me. Tony had been fired after missing too many workdays. I guess I got the last laugh.  <<<*E!*>>> Heat washed over Bob and Johnny as they made their way up the stairwell to the third floor. The fourth floor was fully involved, leaving the paramedics to search the third floor for any survivors. Flames were beginning to show through dense smoke on the third floor, too. They separated at the top of the stairs to each take a side of the long hallway that sported apartment doors every twenty feet. Working quickly and efficiently, Johnny moved in and out of apartments without finding anyone. Many of the apartments appeared to be vacant. When they reached the end of the hall, Bob and Johnny took the far stairwell down to the second floor to repeat their search. Although the air was a bit cooler on the second floor, it was still nearly a hundred degrees. A light smoky haze hung in the still air. Johnny and Bob removed their masks and shut down their oxygen tanks. "I'll take the left side, Bob." Johnny paused a moment to wipe the sweat from his forehead before retightening the straps on his helmet. He banged on the first apartment door. "Fire department. Anyone home?" Not hearing a response, Johnny kicked the door near the knob. It gave slightly. So, he gave it another kick. The door gave way and Johnny trotted through the apartment. Repeating his actions several times as he made his way down the long hallway, Johnny was bordering on exhaustion by the time he met Bob at the stairwell near the front of the building. He was grateful that everyone seemed to have gotten out of the building. The handie talkie in his pocket squawked. Johnny lifted the device to his mouth, "Unit calling HT 51, can you repeat your last transmission?" "HT 51, have you completed your search of the second floor?" Houkreider's voice crackled over the radio. "Ten-four, Engine 51. We're at the south stairwell. No victims were found on the second or third floor." "Squad 16 got through the first floor. They have a couple smoke inhalation victims. Gage and Cochran, head back up to the third floor and relieve the guys on the hoses." "Ten-four, HT 51 out." Johnny collapsed the antenna and returned the radio to his pocket. "Let's go." He led the way into the stairwell that was clogged with hoses. Water ran down the walls and made the linoleum-covered steps slippery. Despite a careful eye on the treacherous stairs, Johnny slipped. He banged his forearm on the steps. "You okay, John?" Bob asked as he pulled Johnny back onto his feet. "Yeah." Johnny rubbed his arms. "Let's get on up there." Johnny plowed ahead even though his feet felt like lead weights at the end of his legs. He hadn't had much time to relax today. Johnny smiled despite his fatigue. But, he had had several opportunities to talk to Tammy as he and Bob had delivered various victims to Rampart's Emergency Room. The two paramedics dodged hoses stiff with water on their way up the stairs. A few feet down the third floor hallway, they found the men handling the hoses. Mike Watkins and Andre Jackson from Station 16 had one inch and a half. The other two men were from B Shift at Station 51, Dave Williams and Jim Parker. Johnny headed for Dave and Jim, who were furthest down the hall, while Bob stopped behind Mike and Andre. In classic maneuvers, the two paramedics took up the rear position on the hoses and allowed the men handling the nozzles to step away for a break. Rather than trudge down and back up the stairwell, Mike and Dave wandered into an apartment that was cooler than the hallway or stairwell. The windows had been propped open to assist with ventilation. With the water deluge from the ladder and the hoses packed up to the third and fourth floors, much of the fire was under control. However, the steamy heat of the hallway belied the control of flames and fire. Johnny shifted his grip on the hose to bring one hand up to mop sweat from his forehead. He was next up for the nozzle position. The fire had been pushed into one apartment on the third floor. They had heard from the walkie talkie that the fire on the fourth floor was out. The crew was working on mop up. The hose behind of Johnny moved as Jim returned to the inch and a half to take up a position in back of Johnny. Johnny tapped Dave's shoulder and took over the nozzle when Dave stepped away. Even though they had been dumping water on the fire in the apartment for several minutes, it continued to burn. Johnny suspected this fire was the result of arson and a flammable liquid was responsible for the resistant flames. Even though the fire was nearly out, heat continued to pour out of the smoking walls and ceilings. Finally, the flames gave up their fight. With a last good soaking, Johnny shut down the nozzle. He pulled the handie talkie from his pocket. "Engine 51, HT 51, the fire is out on the third floor." "HT 51, leave the hoses for any flare-ups. Come on out for a few minutes and take a break." Houkreider's message was a welcome announcement for Johnny. He shouted at the rest of the firefighters on the third floor. "C'mon guys, let's take a break. Cap says to leave the hoses for clean up." Johnny walked down the hall to get Dave and Mike from the far end of the hall. "Dave, Mike, Cap says to take a break," Johnny shouted down the corridor as he walked. Water dribbled down the walls and dripped from the ceiling from the hoses used on the roof and fourth floor. Johnny could see that the ceiling tiles were hanging cock-eyed in places. He switched to the other side of the hall where the ceiling looked firmer. Loosening the chin strap on his helmet, he tipped his helmet back on his head to let some air cool off his forehead. Ducking into the apartment where Dave and Mike were taking a break from the hose, he repeated the captain's announcement. "Great. Let's get out of here before Houkreider changes his mind!" Dave said as he beat the other two to the door and headed down the hall. Mike followed on Dave's heels. He was looking forward to some fresher and cooler air. Johnny followed his fellow firefighters down the hall. Maybe there are some slightly injured firefighters that I can treat and keep out of this hot, smoky building. No sooner had the thought bounced through Johnny's head than several ceiling tiles between him and the other two firefighters came crashing down on the hallway. "Whoa!" Johnny exclaimed as he ducked back out of the mess. "You guys okay?" Mike and Dave both said they were fine. Johnny waved at them and started back down the hall, stepping over the new mess. The other two men turned and continued on their way, also. Suddenly, the walls beneath the collapsed ceiling fell toward each other, pushing Johnny to the floor and trapping him under a four-foot mound of rubble. When they heard the walls come down, Mike and Dave turned to check on Johnny. They saw Johnny disappear in a cavalcade of cement blocks and plaster board. And, he had the walkie talkie for the group. Dave turned and ran for the stairs to get help. Mike rushed down the hall and started tearing apart the pile of debris, trying to find Johnny. C'mon, Gage. Where are you? Chunks of plaster board and cement blocks flew from the pile as Mike muttered under his breath. Then, Mike saw some dirty beige turnouts. "All right, Gage. C'mon, buddy." He shifted another hunk of plaster and found Johnny's helmet. But, his head wasn't in it or under it. Mike kept digging through the rubble, following the beige colored material that covered Johnny's body. Finally, Mike uncovered shaggy dark hair that was dusty with plaster debris. Some blood matted the hair at the back of Johnny's head. Oh, damn. Mike wasn't a paramedic, but he knew that head injuries were problematic. He left Johnny where he was and continued clearing away debris, so the paramedics could get to him. Feet pounded up the stairs and down the hallway behind him. Mike straightened and turned toward the sound. He found Johnny's current partner, Bob, trotting down the hall. "What happened, Mike?" he shouted as he got close to the pile of rubble. "The walls fell in on Gage. I got him uncovered, but he's got some blood on his head, here." Mike pointed to the injury he had found. Bob set the stokes down beside the debris. He moved closer and ran his hands down Johnny's extremities. A little blood oozed from the back of his head. "Was he wearing his helmet?" "No, I found the helmet before I found him." Mike stood by to help load Johnny in the stokes. Bob finished his preliminary survey. He hadn't found any serious injuries. "Let's get him in the stokes." Bob hadn't taken time to grab a cervical collar, when he heard that Johnny was trapped and probably injured. "We'll need to be really careful with his neck until I can get a collar on 'im." Mike and Bob had Johnny in the stokes a few minutes later. They grunted as they lifted the unconscious man and carried him down the slick stairs, taking their time to keep from slipping. Several long moments later they stepped out of the building and carried Johnny over to the squad. "Could you get the bio phone and trauma box, Mike?" Bob asked as they put Johnny down on the ground. "Sure, Bob." Mike headed around the squad, while Bob grabbed the oxygen tank. He put a venturi mask over Johnny's nose and mouth. Laying a hand on John's abdomen, Bob counted respirations. He switched to the radial pulse and counted, again. Bob reached into the trauma box that Mike had set beside him and pulled the blood pressure cuff out. Oh, man. My head's killing me! Johnny heard a moan and wondered who else was hurting. Then, he felt the vibration of sound in his own throat. Damn, I guess I'm the one moaning, again. Even though Johnny would have rather kept his eyes shut, he pulled his heavy eyelids open. The twilight of evening probably didn't seem very bright to the people gathered around him, but to Johnny, the light stabbed straight through to the back of his cranium. "Hey, Johnny. How ya feelin'?" Bob asked as he pulled his stethoscope from his ears and saw that Johnny's eyes were part way open. When Johnny didn't answer, Bob leaned closer and tried to get Johnny's attention. "C'mon, Gage. Talk to me." "Wha…what…happened?" Johnny reached a hand up to the back of his head where the pain seemed to be centered. He felt something sticky and had a fairly good idea what it was and looking at his hand merely confirmed it-blood. "The walls collapsed on ya. Wait a minute. Just lay back down, Johnny." "Why? I'm 'k." "If you're okay, why were you unconscious for the past ten minutes or so?" Bob pushed Johnny back to the ground. "Just relax for a few minutes, while I get a hold of Rampart." Johnny frowned at that information. He was certain the orders that Bob received would at the least call for transport to the hospital. I'll probably get an IV, too. Johnny sighed. He pulled the oxygen mask from his face. Bob was writing down the doctor's orders and saw Johnny take off the oxygen mask from the corner of his eye. "Ten-four, Rampart, IV with D5W, continue O2, and transport." After returning the handset to the orange box, he reached over and returned the oxygen mask to Johnny's face. "Let's leave that there, Gage." With a frown, Johnny let Bob put the mask back in place. Johnny looked over and saw Bob take a bag of IV fluid and starter set from the trauma box. He closed his eyes and listened to the rustle as Bob readied the supplies. "Rampart ordered an IV, Johnny." "I know." Johnny kept his eyes closed. Bob smiled. "You're gonna feel a stick." Bob tried to make the catheter insertion as easy as possible. "All set, Johnny. The ambulance is here. We should be leaving for Rampart soon." Rampart, Johnny thought as he smiled. Tammy's working. I guess this trip won't be a total loss. Then, Johnny frowned. He realized he would probably have to stay overnight-with repeated neurological checks and vital signs. He sighed. Oh well, at least I won't get toned out three or four times tonight. "We're gonna put you on the stretcher," Bob said as he grabbed Johnny's ankles. Johnny kicked his booted feet. "Wait, Bob. I can get myself on the gurney." Johnny sat up before anyone could keep him flat. "Watch out for your IV, Johnny." Bob decided it would be better just to go along with Johnny for now. He hadn't found any severe injuries, and the IV was just a precaution. He held out his arm for Johnny to pull himself up with. In a few moments, Johnny was lying on the ambulance stretcher. Malcolm belted Johnny to the cart and helped load him into the rig. Bob climbed in beside his partner. Houkreider showed up behind the ambulance. "I'll send someone over with the squad as soon as I can." "Sure thing, Cap." Bob watched as his captain closed the doors. He heard the two thumps to indicate everything was ready for the ambulance to leave. "I know you're not too thrilled to be taking a trip to Rampart, but I'm glad I won't have to help with mop up." Johnny moved his mask aside. "Be careful what you wish for, Bob." He took a breath of oxygen from the mask. "Just before the ceiling came down, I was hoping that there might be some 'slightly injured' firefighters that I could treat instead of returning to help with clean up." Bob reached across and plopped the mask back on Johnny's face. "I know, Gage. I'm just looking forward to a little break. Let's get a fresh set of vitals for Dr. Morton." "Bob, please tell me you didn't say, 'Dr. Morton'." "Sorry, Johnny. Morton answered the call." Bob busied himself with the blood pressure cuff. "Great!" <<<*E!*>>> Johnny rubbed his arm where the IV had been. He was spending the night, but Morton was nice enough to discontinue the IV fluids. Turning to his side, Johnny tried to find a comfortable spot on the lumpy mattress. He hadn't seen Tammy last evening. She had left for home before the ambulance delivered him to ER. He didn't get up to his room until nearly eleven. So, he hadn't tried to call her at home. He knew she had another twelve-hour shift on Sunday. It was too late to call Roy, too. So, he tried to get some of the sleep he had been craving. <<<*E!*>>> Well, that was a spectacularly un-restful night. The nurses had been exceedingly diligent in performing the neuro checks-every hour. Lying awake shortly after five, Johnny was anxiously waiting for Dr. Morton to make rounds; even though he knew that rounds wouldn't occur for at least a couple hours. Finally, the clock read seven o'clock. Johnny called ER and asked for Tammy. He filled her in on his admission. "I'll slip up to see you as soon as I can, Johnny. How're you feeling this morning?" "I'm tired, but I feel okay. I'll see you later." "Okay, Johnny." She hung up the phone. Dixie was looking at her quizzically. "Johnny was caught in a building collapse and got a concussion last night. He's upstairs." "Why don't you take a minute to go see him now, Tammy? We're bound to be busy later." "Thanks, Dix." Tammy scurried off to the elevator. She hoped they would be able to spend some time together this week. She kind of liked the dark-haired paramedic with the crooked grin. <<<*E!*>>> "Roy, thanks a lot for hauling me home." Johnny pulled his bag onto his lap as Roy brought the car to a stop in front of Johnny's house. "Your welcome. Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Roy watched as Johnny pried his body out of the car. "If I can get some uninterrupted sleep, I'll be just fine." "I know Dr. Morton released you, but there's always a chance that you have some hidden injuries." Johnny shook his head at his perpetually worried friend. "Roy, I'm fine. I just got a little scalp laceration. All of my neuro checks have been normal." "I know. But, you do have a nasty habit of having injuries that're worse than they look." Johnny shut the car door and bent over to lean on the window. "I'm fine. I don't know what else to tell ya. Go home, have a good day off. I'll see ya tomorrow at work." Johnny stood up and turned to go into his house. "I'll pick you up in the morning, since your Land Rover's still at the station." Roy saw Johnny nod his understanding before putting his car in gear and heading back down the driveway. <<<*E!*>>> Johnny sat down at the phone in the bunk room. The station chores were done. He hadn't had a chance to call Tammy on Sunday. He was hoping they could spend some time together on his days off Tuesday and Wednesday. He got back up and went into the locker room for some aspirin. His head had been aching since he left the hospital. It got worse when he was up moving around. Aspirin on board, Johnny returned to the desk where the lamp and phone sat. He dialed Tammy's home phone number. "Hi….I'm feelin' pretty good, pretty good…Oh, it's nothing….Really Tammy, I'm fine… I noticed you had a busy weekend at Rampart…Yeah, I guess my weekend was pretty busy, too…Yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to go camping or something tomorrow and Wednesday?…Sure, I'll give you a call tomorrow, and we can decide then…Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow…Bye." "Tryin' to get some poor girl to spend some time with ya, Gage?" Chet put in his two cents worth. "Shut up, Chet. You don't know what you're talking about, as usual." Johnny got up and tried to walk away from the irritating man. Chet followed his pigeon through the apparatus bay and into the kitchen. He waited while Johnny poured a cup of coffee. "Whatcha got planned for the poor girl?" Moving next to Johnny, Chet got a cup of coffee, too. "What difference does it make to you, Chet? You're not going with us." Johnny moved again to put some distance between them. He pulled out a chair at the table and sat next to Roy, pulling a section of paper closer. Not ready for the game to end, Chet also sat at the table. "I just wanted to know where not to go on my two days off." "Very funny, Chet. Don't worry. If I even catch a glimpse of your ugly face, I'll turn and walk the other way." Johnny snapped the paper to turn it inside out and flattened it to make a new fold. Chet could see that he wasn't going to get Johnny to take the bait. So, he turned to the television to see if he could find something decent to watch on a weekday. Johnny breathed a sigh of relief that he was no longer Chet's object of attention. Roy, who was working on lunch, turned and glanced at his partner. He noticed that Johnny had been a little quiet today, compared to his usual exuberance. Roy also thought that Johnny looked a little pale. As Roy watched, Johnny rubbed his forehead and massaged the back of his neck. Roy put a salad on the table. He stopped beside his partner for a moment. "Are you okay, Johnny? You look a little pale today." Johnny rolled his eyes and looked up at his friend. "I'm fine. I just have a headache. Probably from Chet's attempts at conversation." Johnny looked over at his nemesis, but Chet was absorbed in the television show he was watching. Roy shrugged his shoulders and returned to the stove. He hoped to finish the sloppy joes and get lunch before getting sent on a run. It was not to be. Klaxons screamed through the station. <<<*E!*>>> Wrinkling his nose as the fumes from the lighter fluid reached the level of his head, Tony emptied the liter-sized can in the janitor's closet. He dug the Zippo lighter out of his pocket. He looked at the USMC logo on the lighter. It had belonged to his Dad, who had spent most of Tony's youth overseas in the last of the Korean War and the beginning of Vietnam. Vernon Parks had been stateside for only a few months when a drunk driver had taken his life in a fiery crash. Tony was on his way home from high school and saw the accident. He had tried to get his Dad out of the vehicle, but bystanders had pulled him back and held on to him. There was nothing he could do but stand and watch his father's body turn into a crisp hulk. Since that unfortunate day, fire had held a strange fascination for Tony. He had burned many different materials to get an idea of how different things burned. Experimenting with various accelerants, he had fine-tuned his interest into a vast knowledge base of how to set and promote a variety of fires.  This information was coming in handy as he encountered so many people who angered him. People who cut him off in traffic, fired him for small, inconsequential things like sleeping on the job or missing too many work days. Shaking his head to dispel his anger, Tony concentrated on the job at hand. A few more well-placed soakings of lighter fluid and he'd be ready to get the party started. <<<*E!*>>> "Station 51, Station 116, Engine 110, Battalion 3, structure fire, Williams Apartment Complex, eleven twenty-one Michigan Avenue. Structure fire, Williams Apartment Complex, one-one-two-one Michigan Avenue, cross street State. Time out eleven fifty-three." Hank swung around the corner into the apparatus bay from his office. "Station 51, ten-four, KMG three six five." He paused to copy the address. Continuing on his way to the engine, he handed off a copy of the call to Roy, who promptly passed it to Johnny. "Left or right?" Roy asked of his navigator. He wasn't familiar with the streets the dispatcher had mentioned. The address was near the edge of their territory. He thought the streets were somewhere behind the station, but Roy didn't know if the quickest route would be to the left or right out of the station. When he didn't get a response, Roy looked over at his partner. Johnny had his eyes closed and was rubbing his temples. "Johnny! I need some direction, here!" Johnny opened his eyes and looked at Roy. Realizing that he was neglecting his duties, Johnny looked down at the call slip he had laid on the seat. "Sorry, Roy. Just a minute."  He grabbed the street map book from the glove box and thumbed through it to the appropriate page. "Right, Roy. Turn right." Johnny frowned as he tried to concentrate past the pounding pain in his skull. Using a finger, he traced their route to the address. "Okay, I got it now. Get on the 405. Traffic should be fairly light on a Monday at lunch time." Johnny looked up to see they were nearing the egress for the freeway. "Get off at the Freeman exit." Watching the scenery speed past, he waited to give the next directions until the squad and engine reached the intended exit. He took advantage of the moment to massage his temples and neck, again. Damn, I wish this headache would go away. I'm taking more aspirin as soon as we get back to the station. Suddenly, Johnny realized they were rapidly approaching the exit. "Turn right off the exit and State will be the second left. And,… Michigan will be the first right." After turning on to Freeman, Roy glanced at Johnny. He must have a pretty severe headache. I hope it's not related to the concussion he received Saturday. Roy promised himself to keep an extra close eye on his fellow paramedic. Roy looked both ways before he turned on to State. "How many intersections until… what was it Minnesota?" Johnny glanced back at the call slip with confusion. Minnesota? He found the address. "It's Michigan, Roy." "Minnesota, Michigan. I don't really care. I just need to know how many intersections?" The lines on the map blurred for a moment. When the lines separated back into streets, Johnny was able to answer his partner. "Two, Roy. Two streets and take a right." By the time Johnny answered Roy, he could see the header spreading across the sky. "Look over there, Johnny. It looks like a bad one." Roy pointed out the black smoke rising into the brilliant blue sky, obscuring other structures in the area. The radio came to life as Station 116 arrived at the building and their captain called for a second alarm, describing a large structure that was well-involved. Oh, man, Roy's right. This is gonna take a while. We'll be lucky if no one dies. Johnny tossed the call slip back into the seat. He tightened the strap on his helmet, making his head pound a little more. "I wonder if we're looking at another arson fire?"  "Could be, Johnny." While fire fascinated Roy, making him a good firefighter, Roy simply couldn't wrap his mind around the thrill of making a fire to watch something burn. The whole concept was too foreign. Following the smoke more than Johnny's directions, Roy turned onto Michigan Avenue and spotted Engine 116 pulled in at the front of a block-long, two-story structure. The building was divided into individual apartments that jutted at staggered levels from the street to give occupants more privacy. Obviously, the style and landscaping indicated an upscale establishment. A crowd had gathered to watch the firefighters and fire. Several people were clutching onto friends and families as they watched smoke spiral and flames devour their homes and belongings. Police cars added to the general cacophony as they screamed into the area to help control traffic and pedestrians. <<<*E!*>>> The adrenaline rush didn't seem quite as fast and furious as he had experienced at the previous