Winners and Losers By Becky Jensen Part 1 Author's note: This story takes place after Getting the Hang of It published on this site. Tammy shivered and wrapped her arms more tightly around herself as she stared into the roaring fire that kept the darkness of the surrounding landscape at bay. Strong, warm arms encircled her shoulders and drew her close to a lean, warm body. "Oooh, I didn't know it could get this cold so late in the spring." Tammy snuggled deeper into the arms of her companion. "Sometimes there's still snow up here until July. We're pretty high up." "I've been this high before. But, it must've been later in the tourist season." She stretched her hands toward the campfire. "You are going to leave the fire going tonight, aren't you?" She wanted to have the security of the light and warmth it provided. Johnny smiled as he kept Tammy enveloped in his arms. He could smell the jasmine from her shampoo as he rested his head on top of hers. "Of course. We'll need some heat as the night wears on." The tent he normally used for camping was back at his ranch. They elected to use just sleeping bags on this trip, since Tammy and Johnny trekked about thirty miles into the wilderness on the four-day trip. Driving through Bakersfield, they made their way to Sequoia National Park. After talking to Ranger Don Bartiuk, Johnny and Tammy left the Land Rover at Cold Springs Campground, even though it wasn't open, yet. They hiked off-trail, using a map of the terrain. Kern River Canyon, their destination, was a steep-walled canyon. Granite outcroppings kept vegetation at a minimum on the nearly vertical walls. The river gurgled through rapids in several places. Tammy and Johnny searched for some time to find an area to cross to the east side of the river. The entire canyon was covered by the shadow of Mount Whitney much of the morning. Johnny looked longingly at the snow-covered peak. He would enjoy climbing it someday. But, he would need much more preparation and more time. So, he satisfied himself with this trip into the wilderness. Tammy and Johnny enjoyed the quiet of the untamed wilderness. Because of work schedules, they were both due back on duty in two days and would be hiking out tomorrow. The time alone continued to cement a relationship that saw them through some dangers, and celebrations. An aborted attempt at hang gliding nearly ended Johnny's life. Then, a warehouse blew up with Johnny in it. They celebrated the holidays with Johnny on the mend. During the first months of the New Year, Tammy and Johnny planned this trip. Sharing a love of camping and hiking, they enjoyed each other's company wherever they found themselves. While they weren't living together, they did spend as much time together as their schedules permitted. Johnny's every third day, twenty-four-hour shifts and Tammy's twelve-hour weekend shifts made planning an outing a bit dicey. After saving up his vacation days, Johnny was able to arrange for shift coverage and get six days off in a row. Tammy's schedule was easier, and she was ready, whenever Johnny could get the preparations made. The more time they spent together, the more time they wanted to spend together. Johnny privately thought he might have found the woman he could spend the rest of his life with. But, he had been burnt so many times before that he wanted to be sure. I sure do enjoy being with Tammy. Sometimes I can't think of anything else, Johnny thought as he listened to the crackle of the fire. She's funny and smart. She can be independent and still make me feel needed. Johnny gave an internal sigh. I think this may lead to something more permanent, if we continue seeing each other. Tammy stretched her legs out toward the dancing flames of the campfire. They were tired after the long hikes that she and Johnny took in the past few days. While she was used to spending twelve-hour shifts on her feet, tramping through the woods and up and down mountainsides was different. But, she wouldn't have missed it for the world. She felt safe and secure when she was with Johnny. He's sincere and a gentleman. He lets me have a say in decisions. I enjoy visiting his ranch, too. She felt him adjust his arms slightly, but he kept them firmly around her chilled shoulders. He thinks about me and my needs first. Maybe we'll get married. She could sense that Johnny held back on her sometimes. Tammy talked to Dixie McCall about Johnny's reticence in advancing their relationship. Dixie confided to Tammy that Johnny had several near misses with other women. So, Tammy assumed Johnny was taking his time to be sure that their relationship was going to work before plunging into uncharted waters. I'll wait for him, because, from what I've seen so far, he's worth it. Johnny picked his head off of hers. "We'd better turn in. We've got a lot of trail to cover tomorrow." He opened his arms, rubbing her upper arms, before releasing her entirely. "Unhh, don't remind me. My calves and feet are crying over the hiking we've already done." Tammy massaged her legs. "But, it'll be good to get back to hot and cold running water. I always enjoy getting back to indoors plumbing after a camping trip." "I gotta agree with ya, Tammy. Nothing feels as good as that first hot shower." Tammy laughed. "And, using a flush toilet!" "I can understand where that probably appeals more to you than me." Johnny stood and stretched. His muscles protested, too. Hiking the trails was just different activity than rescues and fire fighting. Spreading out the sleeping bags they left rolled up for the day, Tammy and Johnny cuddled into the downy warmth, using one bag for the bottom and covering with the other. They were taking advantage of shared body heat. And, it just plain felt good to have someone else to hold onto during the long, cold night. *~<~E!~>~* "So, you spent your time off wandering around in the woods?" Chet asked as he and Johnny sat at the kitchen table, waiting until it was time for roll call. "Yeah. It was a little cold at night, but that meant we had to hold each other closer to keep warm." Johnny's mouth split into a wide, crooked grin. "I can see the wisdom in that plan. I can't believe you're that smart, Gage." "I thought it was darn near brilliant." Johnny snagged another sip of coffee before Captain Stanley called them to the apparatus bay to get the shift started. As A shift lined up, the weary C shift wandered out the back door. "Glad to have ya back, John." "Thanks, Cap." "Stanley consulted his clipboard. "Gentlemen, we've got a new company setting up business in the industrial park. The good news is they're building a state of the art facility." "And, what's the bad news, Cap?" Chet asked. "The bad news is that they're going to be making different kinds of plastics." "Well, what's so bad about that?" Chet again queried his leader. "The new factory, Pacific Plastic Products, Incorporated will be turning out several tons of plastic wares per year. In order to make plastics they have to have a big supply of phosgene gas." Roy and Johnny groaned. They knew it was a dangerous chemical. But, they would need to get some particulars from Brackett. "What?" Chet asked. "It's a very toxic gas, Chet," Johnny informed his friend. "The military also uses it as a chemical weapon," Roy added. "Chemical weapon? How can a factory get away with using such a dangerous chemical!?" Chet's mouth gaped open as he tried to understand the implications of the new factory. "It's used all over the world to make plastic," Stanley explained. "There's phosgene in carbon tet fire extinguishers, too. It's used to make dyes. And, arc welders release it into the air. "We're going to have someone from the company review info about phosgene this afternoon at one. He'll wait, if we're out on a run. "Roy, could you and John check with Dr. Brackett on physical effects of phosgene, and let us know what you find out?" "Sure, Cap." Johnny and Roy glanced at each other, sharing worried looks, as Stanley continued with daily assignments and a few more announcements. *~<~E!~>~* The afternoon was quieter than normal for the men at Station 51. The representative from the new factory, Pacific Plastic Products knocked on the door to Captain Stanley's office at exactly one o'clock. Gerry Crail brought along brochures about the company and material safety data sheets on the major chemicals that would be used at the factory. Stanley led him into the rec room and called the fire fighters in to hear the information. "This is Mr. Crail from Pacific Plastic Products. He's gonna give us the run-down on what we can expect at their new plant." Stanley moved aside, indicating the slight, unassuming man dressed in a white button-down shirt tucked into dark brown corduroys     with a slight flare at the bottom. He moved forward and pushed his medium-length blond hair from his forehead, adjusting his dark-rimmed glasses. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. PPP, Incorporated is really excited about building a new factory in this area. We've been looking for just the right location for over a year. The plastics industry is growing rapidly. "At PPP we'll be making the resin and molding it into thermoplastic pieces as dictated by the needs of our customers. Current technology for making polycarbonate products requires phosgene and bisphenol A. To make the process less dangerous, we'll be producing the phosgene on the premises, eliminating the need to transport this dangerous chemical through your fine city." "And, we appreciate your efforts," Stanley interjected, thinking about the many tons of dangerous chemical that would not be shipped on the highways and streets of Carson. "Unfortunately, as you are probably aware, phosgene is a very hazardous chemical. We've taken extra precautions that include training our personnel in the use of personal protective equipment and emergency response to problems within the factory. I have information on the different chemicals we will be working with." He handed out the material safety data sheets. "Additionally, one of the waste products from our plastic production is a fairly strong hydrochloric acid. After treating it to increase the pH, we're going to ship it to another plant for further processing. We're also going to add food grade cornstarch to the plastic resin to assist in its degradation post-consumer use." Mister Crail glanced around the room. He could see the concern that framed all of their faces. "Are there any questions?" "What kind of plastic products will you be making?" Mike asked. "Mostly high impact plastic that is resistant to heat up to 300 degrees. We can adapt our production, depending on our customers' needs." "Why can't you use something less nasty than that phosgene stuff?" Chet asked with a deep frown. "Current technology simply hasn't offered any other chemical that'll work the same. There are some people in Germany and Japan who are trying to make some less hazardous substitutions, but their results aren't very promising thus far." "What kinds of protective equipment will your employees be working with?" "The people working directly with the phosgene and HCl will have full protective suits with scrubbing filters. We also have fire fighting protective gear for trained first responders within the plant. Our people are trained to send out an alarm at the first sign of fire and then try to contain it." "How much training do these first responders get?" Stanley asked. "They under go a two-week program that includes classroom and hands-on training, initially. They then get yearly refresher training." Crail looked expectantly at the fire fighters gathered in the hard, wooden chairs. No one raised a hand or offered more questions. He handed Captain Stanley a business card. "Here's my phone number. Please feel free to contact me for any questions. Thanks for letting me come and talk to you today." Crail shook hands with the captain and left. The guys watched the engineer from PPP leave the station and waited for Stanley to return to the rec room from escorting their visitor to the door. Chet was the first one to express his dismay at the information they just heard. "Man, it sounds like a fire at that place will be a losing proposition." "It'll be a challenge, Chet. Did Dr. Brackett have any information about phosgene?" Hank turned to Johnny and Roy. "Yeah. But, you're not gonna like it," Johnny replied. Roy filled in the information. "He said that it's mainly a respiratory irritant. That means we'll absolutely have to wear airmasks to enter the plant. Brackett said that it can irritate eyes, too. But, if we have our masks on, we'll have our eyes protected, too." "The lung effects can be disastrous," Johnny added. "The gas can cause pulmonary edema in very small amounts." Marco looked at his coworkers and could see that not everyone understood what Johnny was talking about. "Johnny, what's pulmonary edema?" "The lungs get inflamed and fluid blocks the exchange of oxygen. Basically, the person suffocates on their own fluids. It has a rapid onset and can quickly kill." "Let's just hope that we don't get a chance to use any of this information." "Thanks, Roy. You just sealed our fate," Chet scathingly informed the senior paramedic. "Oh, that's just bullshit, Chet." "Is not, Gage. Any time one of us mentions how slow or quiet the day has been, all hell breaks loose. It'll work the same with this plant. I'll bet we get called out there at least once a month, if not every week." Johnny started digging his wallet out. "Put your money where your mouth is, Kelly. I think you're wrong, and I'm willing to back it up with cash. How about it?" Johnny held out a ten-dollar bill. "Fine Gage, you got a bet." Chet glanced around the room. "Anyone else want in on it?" "No, man, I like to keep my cash in my pocket," Marco said. "I think I'll pass," Mike advised. "I don't have ten dollars to spare." Roy turned away from the arguing men and started working on supper. "Don't even ask," Stanley warned. "Guess it's just me and you, Kelly." Gage grabbed Chet's money and gave both of the bills to Roy. "Roy, will you hold our money?" "Sure, Johnny. Uh, by the way, how long is this bet for?" "What do you think, Chet?" "Well, we need to wait until after the factory's up and running.  And, then the bet has to do with a month. So, I guess a month after the plant's operational. How's that sound?" "Okay, Chet. It's a bet." Johnny and Chet shook hands on the bet. Johnny left his friend and went to help his partner with supper preparations. The tones bounced off the station walls. "Station 51, possible heart attack, fifty-nine sixty-one West Sierra Lane, cross street Walnut. Five, nine, six, one West Sierra Lane, cross street Walnut. Time out fourteen ten." "Station 51, ten four, KMG three six five." Stanley handed off a copy of the address to Roy before trotting to the engine. They were screaming out of the station within a few minutes. Turning right, they sped through the streets of Carson thankful that rush hour had not yet started. The trip to the call address was swift. Roy slammed the transmission into park as he reached for the keys and the door handle. Johnny burst out of his door before the engine stopped and started pulling equipment from the compartments. Roy was soon at his side grabbing more boxes. Captain Stanley, Chet, and Marco helped carry the many boxes of paramedic equipment that may be needed for a heart attack victim. Johnny set down the biophone and hammered on the door. "Fire department!" A few, long moments later, they heard the snicking sound of a dead bolt being withdrawn into the door. Then, a small click indicated another lock being opened. The door inched open, revealing a diminutive elderly lady with snow-white hair and thick glasses. "Ma'am, we're from the fire department. Did you call about someone having a heart attack?" Johnny asked as he bent to pick up the biophone. "Fire department? I asked for an ambulance." "Mrs….?" Johnny asked, waiting for the older woman to answer his query." "I'm Mrs. Paris, Mrs. John Paris." "Mrs. Paris, we can help whoever is ill until the ambulance gets here. We can start treatment right away." "I suppose, you might as well come in then." The five fire fighters followed the tiny woman, feeling like giants as they trailed after her. She led them through a formal sitting room just inside the front door to a tiny bedroom in the back. "This is my brother, Timothy Smithers. He's been complaining about his chest hurting for a couple of days. But, this afternoon his color started changing. He didn't want me to call, but I thought he needed to go to a hospital." Johnny nodded as she talked, but his main attention was on the person sitting propped up against the headboard. The man was nearly as tiny as his sister. A slight fringe of silver hair circled his head. His green eyes were sharp and peered at the visitors without the aid of glasses. "Mr. Smithers, my name's Johnny, and this is my partner, Roy. We're LA County paramedics. We're gonna take a look at you, contact a hospital, and start getting you some treatment before the ambulance gets here." Johnny pulled a blood pressure cuff from the med box. "Can you tell me about the chest pains?" "Well, I've been having some pain right in the middle of my chest and some trouble breathing for a couple days." "Have you had anything like this before?" "I had a heart attack three years ago. But, I haven't had any trouble since then." "Does the pain you're having now feel like the symptoms you had with the heart attack?" "No, it's a lot less painful. But, my breathing's worse." "Are you on any medications, Mr. Smithers?" Roy chimed in with the next question, as Johnny was busy collecting the vital signs. Marco and Chet hovered in the hall, waiting to see if they could be of any help. Stanley towered over Mrs. Paris, giving her reassuring smiles. "I'm taking a blood pressure pill. Jenny, could you get the bottle out of the medicine chest?" Mrs. Paris turned and squeezed through the doorway. Roy applied electrodes to Mr. Smithers' chest. He opened the biophone and connected the antenna, jotting down the vital signs as Johnny called them out. "How old are you, Mr. Smithers?" "I'm seventy-eight." "Marco, could you hand me the O2?" Johnny asked as he stood to receive the heavy tank. "Mr. Smithers, I'm going to give you some oxygen, while we're contacting the doctor." Mrs. Paris came back into the room with a small brown medicine bottle. "Here's Tim's medicine." She handed it to Johnny, who handed it to Roy. "Rampart, this is County 51. How do you read?" Dixie's voice came over the biophone headset and speaker. "County 51, we read you loud and clear." "Rampart, we have a male, age seventy-eight, with complaints of chest pain for two to three days. Vital signs are B.P. 102/58, pulse 108, respirations 22. Color ashen, skin clammy." Roy paused and looked at the medication bottle. "He's taking Inderal twenty milligrams twice a day. His EKG shows sinus tach with ST elevation. We have him on four liters of O2." "County 51, can you send us a strip?" Dr. Morton asked. "Ten-four, Rampart. This'll be lead II." The ambulance attendants banged through the doorway, while Roy was waiting for Rampart to read the rhythm strip. "County 51, continue O2, start an IV of D5W TKO, and give two milligrams of morphine IV push and repeat in ten minutes, if no relief. Recheck vital signs and transport ASAP." Roy repeated the orders and advised the doctor that the ambulance was on the scene. Johnny grabbed the IV equipment from the drug box. Roy finished writing the orders on a notebook and fished the morphine pre-filled syringe out of the drug box. He expelled the extra air and waited for Johnny to get the IV established. He handed off the syringe of morphine, reminding his partner that the syringe contained four milligrams in it. Johnny nodded and slowly injected half of the contents. "Mr. Smithers, we're giving you some pain medication for the chest pain. When Johnny's done, we're gonna transfer you to the stretcher and be on our way to Rampart." Roy motioned to the ambulance attendants, and everyone was in place when Johnny finished administering the morphine. The transfer to the ambulance was rapid with so many helping hands. Johnny hopped up beside Mr. Smithers. Roy deposited the drug box, heart monitor, and biophone before shutting the back doors. Not liking the continued ashen skin color on his victim, Johnny immediately began collecting a fresh set of vital signs, which did not improved. "Are you still having chest pain, Mr. Smithers?" Johnny shook his shoulders to get a response, but Timothy remained silent. Johnny returned his hand to Timothy's wrist. Shit, no pulse. Looking at the monitor, Johnny wasn't surprised to see ventricular tachycardia on the scope. "Pull over," he yelled to the driver. Scooping the paddles out of the drawer, he squeezed electronic conductive gel on the skin surfaces, punching a button to start the energy charge in the machinery. He rubbed the paddles together briskly and placed them on Mr. Smithers' right upper chest and left side. On the edge of his vision he saw the rear door open and Roy haul himself into the rig. "Clear!" Johnny yelled before discharging the paddles. Mr. Smithers' body convulsed as electricity zipped between the paddles. Roy and Johnny watched the discharge spike on the scope settle down into the rapid heart rate that they first saw on the scope. Roy resumed his communication duties, contacting Rampart on the biophone, while Johnny gathered vital signs again. Mr. Smithers stabilized. Nodding to Johnny, Roy left the ambulance. Johnny gave Mr. Smithers the sodium bicarbonate that Dr. Morton ordered. Realizing that his victim was very ill, Johnny kept a close eye on Mr. Smithers' vital signs on the way to Rampart. The trip seemed to be shorter than usual because of the repeated and close monitoring. Johnny looked up in surprise when the rear doors opened, again. He hadn't even felt the ambulance rock to a stop. But, he was ready to relinquish care of Mr. Smithers over to the emergency room staff. He anticipated Timothy would be quickly transferred to the Coronary Care Unit. Johnny updated the ER staff on Mr. Smithers' condition and left to find Roy. "How's he doing?" Roy asked, when Johnny sidled into the base station to get a cup of coffee. "Not any worse-but that's not saying much." Johnny took a tentative sip of coffee. They chatted with Dixie for a few minutes. Tammy was tied up in another treatment room, and Johnny didn't get a chance to talk to her. When they finished their coffee, Roy and Johnny headed back to the station. Roy needed to finish supper preparations. *~<~E!~>~* Roy put a pan of brownies that JoAnne made on the table for desert just as the klaxons blared through the station. "Station 51, station110, warehouse fire. Four-oh-one Industrial Parkway, cross street Merger Way. Four, zero, one Industrial Parkway, cross street Merger Way. Time out eighteen, fifty-nine." "Ten-four. Station 51, KMG 365." Stanley completed his routine and climbed up next to Mike. Johnny watched for people who either didn't hear or chose to ignore the lights and sirens and directed Roy to the address dispatch gave them. The sun was low in the sky, making driving difficult as they sped westerly into the sun's glare. The industrial park was closer to the ocean than the station. The vehicles from Station 51 arrived on scene first. The warehouse and surrounding area were deceptively quiet. A few smoke wisps curled from around the doors and at the edge of the roof. A few flames were visible flickering in the darkened windows. Stanley sent Marco and Chet to work pulling hoses and getting started on the red beast in the belly of the structure. Meanwhile, he talked to the security guard, who discovered the fire on his rounds of several buildings that he makes on an hourly basis in a car. "Is there anyone inside?" Roy and Johnny lingered near their captain as Stanley got some information from Mr. Steele. "I don't think so. I've rousted a few homeless people from the warehouse, but none in the last month. I think management finally got all of the doors and windows locked down." "But, you don't know for sure?" "Not for certain. But, I doubt it." Steele turned his attention to the warehouse. Mike pried the locks off of the large docking bay doors. The roar of the fire blanketed the area around the warehouse. Stanley rolled his eyes at the uncaring attitude of the security guard. "Gage, DeSoto, make a quick sweep and then help Marco and Chet." He turned his attention to Captain Stone, who had just arrived. Johnny and Roy heard him start to update the newly arrived captain as they headed over to the same door that Chet and Marco used to enter the building. The fire that caught the attention of the security guard was rolling across the floor of the warehouse, slowly but surely. The heat of the red flames seemed a palpable presence as the paramedics advanced farther into the building. They saw Chet and Marco spraying the cold water in large arcs to keep the flames from spreading further. Slipping sideways around the burning area, Johnny and Roy started looking for any victims that may be present. The warehouse was set up in simple rows of shelves that could be checked by looking down each row from the end. So, it wasn't long before Johnny and Roy swept through the parts of the building that wasn't on fire. Moving quickly, they headed back to where Chet and Marco were waging war on the fire. A distinctive groan could be heard above the roar of the fire. All four men looked up at the noise. The wall above the group was starting to bow. They started moving away. In the scramble, the wet, heavy hose slipped from Chet and Marco's hands. The power of the water rushing through the small hose whipped it back and forth. The nozzle found Johnny's leg. The force of the blow made his leg buckle, and he fell to the cement floor. The fire hose reached out and touched Chet on the back just above his waist. He cried out as the force sent him spinning to the floor, also. The remaining two members of the crew watched helplessly as the wall leaned farther and as the hose snaked over and around the two fallen men. Marco ran out of the warehouse and made a cutting motion across his throat when Mike looked at him. Running back into the warehouse, he was just in time to watch the wall collapse. Johnny and Chet were directly under the falling plaster and lumber. Roy was pummeled by debris but kept his feet. He dusted off his turnouts and looked around for his partner. All he saw was a large pile of rubble in a cloud of dust. He waved the dust away from his face. "Roy, you okay?" Marco asked as he reached Roy's side. "I'm fine. Let's get started digging out our partners." Roy grabbed an armload of wood and flung it across the floor starting a new pile. Fire fighters from Station 110 arrived with a new hose and started working on the fire that was devouring the rest of the warehouse. *~<~E!~>~* Johnny saw the hose whipping around beside Chet and Marco, when he looked back down from staring at the groaning wall beside the four fire fighters. He turned to get away from the dangerous equipment. A hard strike to his left calf let him know he hadn't moved fast enough. The force knocked him down and sent pain shooting up his leg. The noise from the wall got louder, and wood and plaster started raining down on the prone man. He heard someone off to his right yelp when the wall fell. One piece of debris bumped his helmet and was heavy enough to slam his face into the floor. Other pieces of rubble slammed into his back, arms, and legs. He could feel his body being pushed down toward the concrete floor as pieces of the wall continued to fall. *~<~E!~>~* Several frustrating minutes later Roy found some filthy turnout coat material beneath a large, flat piece of lumber. When he brushed the dirt aside, he found Chet's last name in reflective tape. Roy groaned as he realized his partner was still buried. "Marco, I found Chet. Help me pull him out." Roy and Marco moved a few more pieces of debris off of Chet and rolled him over. "Oh, man," Chet groaned. "My back's killing me." "What's wrong with your back, Chet?" Roy started unhooking Chet's turnouts. "Can you move your legs?" Chet's legs moved slightly. "Yyyeah, Roy. I can move 'em." Chet tried to reach his back and rub the painful area. "That hose slammed into my back before the wall came down." "Okay." Roy shifted to help Chet to his feet. "Let's get you outta here, Chet. Can you walk?" "Sure. Just gimme a hand." Chet used Roy's strength to get back up. He was slightly unsteady, but regained his equilibrium after a few moments. "Marco, can you help Chet outside? I want to keep looking for Johnny. He should be pretty close." Marco nodded and grabbed Chet's arm. "C'mon Chet, let's get some fresh air." *~<~E!~>~* Johnny could hear some muffled sounds, as he lay buried in the pile of debris. The noises were indistinct and could have been from shifting debris or from people calling to one another. His nose and mouth were clogged with dust. Debris pressed heavily on his arms, legs, and back. He couldn't reach with his hand to wipe his face off. The dust and pressure from the debris made breathing quite uncomfortable and difficult. *~<~E!~>~* Roy returned his attention to the pile of debris that used to be a wall. He continued to pull it apart piece by piece. He was nearly three-quarters through the pile before he finally found Johnny.  "Johnny!" Roy turned him over gently. "Johnny, are you okay?" Roy could see that Johnny's face was covered with dust and under the dirt his skin was dusky. Instantly, Roy pulled his friend up to a sitting position. "Johnny, talk to me." Johnny rolled his eyes open, getting cement dust in them. He blinked rapidly trying to clear them. He coughed to clear some of the dust from his trachea. The powder seemed to stick and resist expectoration. He felt like he was suffocating. "C'mon, Johnny. Gotta get you out of here to some oxygen." Roy stood and tried to pull Johnny to his feet. "Help me out, partner. C'mon, move your feet, Johnny." Roy dragged Johnny from the warehouse, as Johnny's feet tangled more than walked. Johnny continued to cough and wheeze as he tried to pull enough air into his lungs for the demands his body was making for oxygen. Marco, who was keeping an eye on Chet, looked up and saw Roy stumble from the building with Johnny. He sprinted to Roy's side and helped carry Johnny over to the street near the squad. They sat him down on the asphalt. "Marco, help him sit up. He'll get more air that way. I'll get the oxygen." Roy scooted over to the squad to get the oxygen tank. He cranked it wide open, attached a non rebreather mask and tubing to the tank and slapped it on Johnny's face. Holding it tightly against his friend's face, he watched to see if Johnny's color or level of consciousness improved. With the other hand he pulled the resuscitator mask and ambu bag closer. If the current mask didn't relieve Johnny's oxygen deprivation, he was prepared to take the next step and assist him with his breathing. *~<~E!~>~* Despite the confusion that surrounded Johnny, he could feel himself being dragged out of the warehouse and across the parking lot. He was glad to rest and was grateful to be sitting up, so he could breathe a little better. When the mask was smashed onto his face, he felt like he was smothering all over again. He tried unsuccessfully to push the plastic away with weakened arms. *~<~E!~>~* "Johnny, leave that oxygen mask in place. You're gonna be okay. But, you need to let me help you." Roy kept his voice low key. He pulled Johnny's hand away from the mask, again. "Marco, could you help me hold his arms down. He needs this oxygen." Roy struggled with Johnny to keep the mask securely on his face. After a few minutes, the oxygen helped get rid of the dusky hue on Johnny's face. As his skin color returned to normal so did his behavior. He stopped struggling and let Roy hold the mask on his face. "Feeling better?" Roy asked. "Yeah. I was suffocating." Johnny slumped back against Marco, who let go of his arms. "I'm tired." "We're going to lay you down, Johnny." Roy nodded to Marco. Marco moved back and let Johnny lie down. Securing the strap on the oxygen mask, Roy let go of the mask. Roy looked over to see how Chet was doing. He could see that besides some pain, Chet seemed to be doing all right. Turning back to his partner, Roy began collecting vital signs on Johnny. Johnny started to moan. The pain in his leg was starting to make itself known. "My leg's hurtin'. I think I got hit by the hose before that wall fell." Roy remembered his partner getting struck by the nozzle. He pulled out his bandage scissors to cut open Johnny's pant leg. "Whoa, wait a minute, Roy. It's not that bad. Let's wait until I get to the hospital. I don't want to ruin my pants for a big bruise." "I think I should take a look, Johnny. What if it's getting worse, and we don't notice?" "I'll be fine. I'll let you know if it starts hurting more or feeling different." Johnny's brown eyes pleaded with Roy. "I'd rather look at it. But, we'll try it your way." He opened the biophone. "Your vitals are pretty good. We might even get to Rampart without an IV." "That would be great." Johnny relaxed and waited for Roy to talk to Rampart. "Ten-four, Rampart. Continue O2 and transport. We've got a second Code I with complaints of back pain from a water hose injury. He'll be accompanying us to your location." "Ten-four, County 51. We'll be waiting." Dr. Morton was still on duty. "Let's get you and Chet to Rampart," Roy said to Johnny as he helped his friend to stand and get on the gurney that the ambulance attendants brought next to the squad. For once, Johnny didn't put up a protest. Roy helped Chet up into the rig. He found Captain Stanley to let him know that he was taking Johnny and Chet to Rampart. Stanley assured Roy that he would get the three of them picked up later. Roy jogged back to the ambulance. *~<~E!~>~* "Man, Roy, did you see that huge building under construction?" Chet asked. "Yeah." Roy was watching his partner closely for any further respiratory distress. "The sign said 'PPP, Inc.' It was really big. It'll take forever to get through it, if we have to fight a fire." Chet shook his head. "I don't think we need to worry about that just yet. It looked like there was a lot of construction to finish up." *~<~E!~>~* "Well, Gage, your lungs are clear. And, the spot on the back of your leg's gonna be sore for a while. But, I'm releasing you back to duty." Morton finished making notes on Johnny's chart. "Thanks, Doc." Johnny hopped off of the exam table to put his pants back on. He put his sore leg in first. He was ready to get back to the station and wash off some of the gritty cement dust that was making him itch. Tammy had already gone home for the day by the time he, Roy, and Chet arrived at the hospital. Johnny wanted to give her a call before she went to bed. Marco had dropped off the squad and had been picked up by Mike and Hank with the engine. Chet greeted Roy and Johnny when they exited the treatment room. "It's about time. I been waitin' for a half hour. How come it takes so long to get you cleared for duty, Johnny?" "It doesn't take any longer than anyone else, Chet. You just had to wait a few minutes. Let's get back to the station." They piled into the squad. *~<~E!~>~* Groaning as he rolled over in his roomy bed the next day, Johnny felt every place on his body that had been hit by the wall from the warehouse. He fully expected to see a mottled, black and blue body, when he stripped to enter the shower. But, surprisingly few marks could be seen. He thanked the spirits for his luck.  His various aches and pains diminished greatly after a long, hot shower. He pulled on a pair of Levis. After starting some coffee, he headed out to the barn to do his morning chores. The horses nickered at him from their small corral next to the barn. He grinned and stopped to rub both muzzles. When he and Tammy started spending most of their time off together, he decided to get a second horse. They often went riding on their days off. The mountains behind his ranch provided many trails and seldom-used dirt roads to ride on. The new horse was a bay with rangy legs and taller than the black and white paint that first graced the paddock. Ranger and Stormy got along well. Throwing them some hay, Johnny moved on to the steer's pen and scooped some grain and corn into the feed box. The temperate weather of Southern California allowed the steer to remain outside the barn, making the task of cleaning up manure a non-issue. He moved the steer to different pasture when necessary to allow degradation of the animal's waste. In times of severe weather Johnny had stalls within the barn for his horses. Fortunately, the late spring weather had been mild. He was able to leave them outside the majority of the time, making his morning chores light. So, after only a few moments, Johnny was back inside getting a fresh, hot cup of coffee. Glancing at his watch, he decided to call Roy and see if he could help his partner around the house. Maybe he'd just spend some time with the family that had become as important as his own family. The phone was answered at Roy's house after just a few rings. "DeSoto residence, Jennifer speaking," Johnny heard. "Hi, Jenny. It's Uncle Johnny." "Uncle Johnny! Can you come over and play?" "I'm thinking about it. Can I talk to your Daddy?" "Jus' a minute, Uncle Johnny." He heard the phone clunk on the desk and Jennifer shouting for her Dad. Geez, I hope he's awake, Johnny thought as he heard Jennifer yell again. The phone rattled, and Roy's voice came over the line. "Hi, Johnny. What can I do for you?" "Well, actually, I wondered what I could do for you today. Tammy's working, and I don't have any plans." "Well, come on over. Jo wants me to get started on the flower beds and garden. I'm sure we can find something for you to do." "Good deal, Roy. I'll be over in a little while. But, don't wait on me to get started," Johnny laughed.  Roy chuckled. "I don't think Jo will let me wait for you, partner. See ya later." "Bye." Johnny hung up the phone with a smile on his handsome face. He walked back into the kitchen to freshen his coffee and fix some breakfast. No use working on an empty stomach. About an hour later, he turned off the coffee pot and headed out the door. He took a few minutes to call Tammy and firm up some plans for spending time with her tomorrow. They decided to try a new trail and take the horses out for some exercise. Johnny was definitely looking forward to that. Traffic was light that Sunday morning. He made good time driving to Roy's, arriving in less than thirty minutes. As he opened his truck door, Jennifer came running out of the front door. Nudging the door shut with his slender hip, he caught her in a huge hug. Over her sweet-smelling blond hair, Johnny saw Roy follow her onto the front porch. He waited while Johnny set his daughter down and headed up to the house. "Hey, Johnny." "Roy. Did you get a head start?" "Naw. I didn't want to deprive you of any of the fun." "Well, let's get started." Johnny headed around the side of the house with Jenny trailing after him and Roy. "Are we gonna use the rototiller on the garden?" "Yeah, and I got some fertilizer and mulch for the flower beds that need to be worked in. Jo has a few new perennials she wants to plant." "Sounds like a full day." Rounding the back corner of the house, he saw Roy's wife already working with the roses that lined the back of the house. "Hey, Jo." "Hi Johnny. Thanks for helping with the yard work." "I was hoping for more than just a few words of thanks." JoAnne laughed. "Don't worry. I got a roast in the oven. You'll get your payment in a home-cooked meal." Johnny grinned until his face threatened to split in two. "Good deal!" He turned to Roy. "Let's get to it, Pally." "Why don't you run the tiller? I put new gas and oil in it and replaced the spark plug. There's a bag of fertilizer beside the garden. Just till it in." "Sure thing, Roy." Johnny left Jenny with her mom and retrieved the gas-powered tiller form the garage. He pulled the three-tined machine out using the back tires, tilting it to keep the tines from dragging. After setting it down next to the twenty-foot square plot of dirt at the back edge of the backyard, he pulled his pocketknife out and slit the end of the fertilizer bag open. He hefted it into the crook of his arm and spread the fertilizer over the light brown earth. He took the empty bag back to the garage. With the preliminary work out of the way, Johnny returned to the tiller. A few hearty pulls at the starter cord and a throaty roar filled the backyard as the tiller came to life. He engaged the tines and walked behind the crawling tiller as it moved across the garden. The smell of burning gas and oil competed with the rich, earthy smell of the disturbed dirt. Even though he watched the ground directly in front of the machine, he still kicked up a few stones that were buried. The tiller protested with heavy clunking noises as the rocks were worked up in the soil. He was grateful for his work boots after a few passes of the tiller cultivated the soil into a soft dirt layer that he sunk into up to his ankles. It was great for growing plants, but Johnny would just as soon leave all of the dirt behind. Reaching the end of the garden on one pass, he looked up to see what other activity was occurring in the small back yard. Roy shoved the blade of the shovel into the dirt beside the hole he just dug for a new rose bush. JoAnne held the new plant, keeping the soil and mulch around the fragile roots. He reached to help her set the rose in the hole. JoAnne kept it upright, while Roy pulled handfuls of dirt and manure in around the roots, filling the hole he had just made. Suddenly he pulled his hand back with a muttered oath. He looked at his forearm and found a deep, jagged scratch that ended with a thorn buried in the fleshy part of his lower arm. Dirt and manure peppered the area and mixed with blood seeping from the wound. Roy shook his arm as the pain from the scratch and buried thorn became more pronounced. "Oh, Roy. That looks painful." Jo let go of the rose bush and got a closer look at Roy's arm. "I'll get Johnny to help you get it cleaned up and pull that thorn out. I didn't realize it had such big thorns." "Thank, hon. I'm gonna go start cleaning it up in the kitchen." Roy pulled off the gloves that protected his hands from the thorns as he headed for the back door to the kitchen. JoAnne walked over to where Johnny was shutting down the tiller, after seeing Roy head for the house, when there was obviously more work to do. "What happened?" "Roy's got a thorn from the new rose bush buried in his arm and a deep scratch. I told him I'd get you to help him get it cleaned up." JoAnne patted Johnny on the shoulder. "Thanks, Jo. I'll get him patched up and back to work in no time." JoAnne laughed. "Take your time. We're just about done. I'm gonna get the potatoes boiling for dinner." They walked back into the house together. Roy ran his arm under the running water, letting dirt and blood wash down the sink. He winced as the water found several sensitive spots within the gash. Johnny appeared at his side with the first aid kit that JoAnne brought out of the laundry room. "Looks kinda sore," Johnny observed as he unscrewed the top of the hydrogen peroxide. He shut off the water and waited while Roy dabbed his arm dry. Johnny soaked a couple of cotton balls with peroxide and worked his way down the long scratch. Roy hissed under his breath at the slight stinging that accompanied the cleaning action of the peroxide. Johnny threw away the cotton balls and picked up the tweezers. "This might sting a little, too, Roy." They exchanged knowing glances and then looked back at the wound. "Here we go." Johnny got a firm grip on the base of the thorn that was buried so deeply it was barely visible. He pulled straight up at a steady rate. Once he freed it from Roy's arm, he inspected it to be sure the entire thorn was removed. It looked like the sharp tip was intact. When the thorn was removed, the puncture wound that held the thorn began bleeding. Roy encouraged a good flow of blood from the deeper portion of the wound to wash out more of the dirt contaminating the area. He turned the faucet back on to let it irrigate the wound. After a few moments, Roy dried his arm, again, and Johnny poured hydrogen peroxide directly into the puncture wound. The disinfectant bubbled up out of the hole in a light red, frothy mix. Johnny continued to irrigate the wound until the peroxide ran back out as clear as it went in. "That sure was a big thorn for such a small plant." Johnny wondered aloud as he smeared antibiotic ointment along the scratch and put a gauze pad over the puncture wound. He wound gauze around Roy's arm. "I didn't even see it. I was just brushing the dirt back in the hole." "Your tetanus is good, isn't it, Roy?" Roy thought for a moment. He and Johnny were injured so often that they lost track of when the injury required a tetanus booster. "I think so. Didn't we both get one last May when we were cleaning up after the fire at the lumbar yard? A paint can exploded and sprayed us with shrapnel." "I think you're right. You should be okay." Johnny finished taping the gauze. "Looks like you're gonna be supervising the rest of the day." Roy grinned wickedly. "That was my plan all along." Johnny just shook his head as he replaced the items in the first aid kit. "Well, at least it's you and not me this time. I'm gonna finish tilling the garden. I've only got a few more passes to go. I should be done in about twenty minutes or so." "I'll put away the rest of the equipment. That was the last bush we needed to plant. The rest are annuals that Jo wants to arrange." "Take it easy with that arm, Roy. It won't take much to get it bleeding again." "I'll be careful." Roy preceded Johnny out the back door. They separated to finish their respective yard work. The tiller sounded louder the second time he fired it up. Johnny thought maybe the small muffler was getting loose. He made a mental note to check it out when he took the machine back to the garage. The tines dug into the rich soil, reminding Johnny of his youth and hours spent working in the garden at his parents' house. The sun was nearing the top of the sky. Johnny wiped sweat from his forehead as he shut down the tiller. He dragged it backward to the garage. Flipping on the light, he lifted the tiller onto the workbench and inspected the muffler. He did find a loose screw that let the muffler swing away from the exhaust. He tightened the connection and returned the tiller to the floor, strong-arming it back into the corner. After replacing the tools, he wiped his hands off on a shop rag. Time for lunch. *~<~E!~>~* Johnny returned home about six. The sun already disappeared behind the hills west of his house. But, he had plenty of light to check on his animals. Returning to the house, he sank down in his recliner. His leg ached where the hose smacked it, while his shoulders felt a little sore from wrestling with the tiller. He was just relaxed enough to drift off to sleep when the phone rang. Glancing at his watch, he had a pretty good idea who was calling him. He answered and heard Tammy's voice on the line. They made plans for a day of horseback riding. *~<~E!~>~* Johnny brushed the hair back off his face. The wind was whipping his hair and clothing as it whistled through the barnyard. Ranger and Stormy were antsy from the rustling and shaking of trees and bushes that the wind often sent into spasms. Johnny tried to get them calmed down with a low, soothing voice. He spent a little extra time brushing them. But, the two horses continued to jump at the slightest quiver of a branch or a leaf skittering across the ground. Despite the jittery horses, Johnny was anxious to get out on the trail. He knew that Tammy was a fair horse rider and could handle Ranger. Leaving the horses cross-tied in the barn, he headed back to the house to get a lunch packed. They would be out on the trail all day. He was packing the soft-sided cooler when Tammy knocked and entered the front door.   "Hi Johnny. Boy is that wind blowing! It almost knocked my car off the freeway." She walked into Johnny's open arms and gave him a kiss. Her hair was pulled back in a bun, keeping it from getting tangled in the windy conditions. "Hi, yourself. Yeah, the wind could be a problem. The horses are pretty jumpy." Johnny let go of Tammy and finished packing the cooler. "Lunch is just about ready to go. Did ya bring the drinks?" Tammy held up a pair of saddlebags. "Got 'em. Let's get started." "Good deal. Let's go." Johnny ushered Tammy out the door. They headed for the barn. It didn't take long to get the horses saddled with the cooler tied on the back of Johnny's saddle and the saddlebags across Ranger's back. After following Stormy around in a little dance, Johnny swung his leg over the animal's back. He settled into the worn saddle. Tammy held Ranger's reins tightly and climbed on with only a few mincing steps on the horse's part. They turned the horses down the driveway and headed out along the little-used road in front of Johnny's ranch. The horses shied away from waving branches. Ranger and Stormy's ears twirled around listening for the slightest sound, looking like mini radar dishes. Small rustles of leaves in the underbrush sent them stumbling to the opposite side of the road. Riding the horses took much of Tammy and Johnny's concentration, and the howling wind prevented much in the way of conversation. A few miles of forward and lateral motions and they found the trail that led up into the low mountains north of Johnny's ranch. Johnny urged Stormy into a ground-eating trot. If they didn't move a little faster, they wouldn't reach the lake that he wanted to reach until long after noon. Tammy clucked at Ranger and tapped his side with her heels, keeping up with Johnny and Stormy. The horses seemed to settle down somewhat as they moved into the mountains where there were fewer trees and the bushes were shorter. Or, they were used to the windy conditions, like sensitivity training. Johnny glanced back and saw that Tammy was moving along behind him without any trouble. As he was turning back around he felt Stormy tense. Suddenly, the horse was rapidly moving laterally instead of forward. One minute the horse was solidly under his butt, and the next Stormy was two to three feet to the left of his previous position, leaving Johnny hanging briefly in midair. Gravity took over at that point and pulled Johnny to the rocky trail. He landed on his bottom and low back with a loud grunt of pain. The shock of suddenly landing on the ground when he had just been astride his horse kept Johnny speechless. Pain flowed from the point of impact, spreading through his pelvis and down his legs. His hands stung from slapping the ground; stone from the trail biting into his palms. Tammy watched in horror, as Johnny seemed to fall from his horse in slow motion. "Johnny!." She was surprised when he landed without a cry of pain. Pulling Ranger over, Tammy kept her animal from running over Johnny. She climbed down and tied Ranger to a small pine tree. "Hang on, Johnny. I'm gonna tie up the horses." Stormy was trained to ground tie and was standing still with a slight quiver in his tense muscles. He snorted and shifted slightly as Tammy approached. Talking quietly, Tammy slowly reached out and snagged Stormy's reins. She led him over to the same stubby tree that she tied Ranger to. She hurried back to Johnny's side. "Johnny, talk to me. Are you okay?" She could see that he was awake, but he still hadn't made a sound except for a soft grunt when he first hit the ground. Johnny blinked slowly as the severe pain in his backside subsided slightly. He realized that Tammy was talking to him and touching his neck and back. "I'm okay, Tammy." Johnny took a ragged breath and rubbed the parts of his bottom he could get to as he sat on the hard, rocky trail. "What happened, Johnny?" Tammy sat down next to him. Johnny looked around for his horse. He frowned at Stormy, who was calmly trying to reach what tiny wisps of grass he could from the reach of his reins. "He just shied out from under me." "Can you get up?" Tammy was concerned about Johnny's lower extremity movement. Johnny slowly bent his knees. "I'm pretty sure I can." With a huge groan he pushed himself up off the ground. He was sort of upright. He couldn't quite get his back completely unbent. "Man, I wonder if I cracked my tailbone?" He massaged the sore spot. Tammy rubbed his bent back. "Can you get back on Stormy?" Tammy asked as they walked in slow circles. "I don't know. But, I'll try." Tammy held Stormy's reins tightly and kept a hand on his withers. Johnny clutched the saddle horn. He grimaced as he tried to get his foot high enough to reach the stirrup. "I, uh, I can't get my foot up high enough to reach the stirrup." Johnny held on to the saddle horn as he caught his breath. He maintained the bent posture to ease the pain in his low back. "Man, I can't believe I did that!" Frustration lent a hard edge to Johnny's voice. "You didn't do it on purpose, Johnny." Tammy tried to lend some emotional support. "Your back shouldn't be sore for more than a few days." "I don't know," Johnny said with a grimace. "How're we gonna get you home?" Tammy looked around at the desolate mountainside. She followed Johnny over to a convenient boulder beside the trail. He sat down gingerly, leaning on one hip to stay off his tailbone. "Why don't we walk back to the road? I can take the horses back to the barn and come back and get you with the car or the Rover." Even though Johnny didn't relish the thought of walking back down the mile and a half of trail that they traveled, he knew he couldn't get back on Stormy. "Sounds like a good plan, Tammy." Johnny stood up and started slowly down the trail. Tammy untied Ranger and led the two horses behind Johnny. It took about thirty minutes to make it back to the road. "Sit down here, Johnny." Tammy helped Johnny sit down on a small rise next to the road. "I'll be back in a flash." "Be careful, Tammy. The horses are still nervous." "I'll take my time. But, it shouldn't take me long." It seemed like a small eternity to Johnny as he waited for Tammy's return. The pain receded to a dull, but extensive, aching radiating in waves from his low back. He dreamt of the Tylenol in his medicine cabinet, a heating pad, and a long, hot shower. He heard a car coming down the road, but it wasn't one he recognized. It flew past him, showering him with dirt and dust. He coughed and waved the dust away from his face. The coughing didn't help his back. The growl of another engine reached his ears. The sun gleamed off the hood of his white Land Rover as Tammy slowed to a stop beside Johnny. He stood and made his way to the passenger door. She got out to help him in the truck. He opened the door before she got to his side. He sat down and swung his legs into the Rover with her help. In a few moments Tammy was pulling the truck up to Johnny's front door. Getting out of the Rover was easier. Tammy snaked her arm around Johnny's waist to help him up the front steps. Depositing him on the sofa, she retrieved some Tylenol and a heating pad for him. Once she he was settled, Tammy headed outside to unsaddled the horses and return them to the paddock. *~<~E!~>~* Roy shut his locker door and glanced at his watch. Where is that partner of mine? He said he was pretty sore yesterday, but that he would be here today. Shaking his head, Roy wandered across the engine bay to the kitchen. He poured his first cup of coffee for the day. He flexed his right arm and winced after setting the coffee pot back on the stove. The scratch left behind by the rose thorn was red and puffy. The edges were coming together nicely, and there wasn't much drainage from the wound. But, the muscles under the cut protested movement. Roy wrapped it in gauze that morning before leaving for work. "How's your arm doing?" Roy jumped slightly and turned to see his partner standing right behind him. "I didn't hear you come in." Clenching and unclenching his fist, Roy turned his arm for Johnny to inspect. "Feels pretty good. The muscles are still sore. It's red but healing." "You should have Brackett check it out sometime today," Johnny offered his advice. He moved from behind Roy and snagged a cup of coffee. He moved deliberately, demonstrating his pain to anyone watching. "Looks like you're still having some pain there, Junior." Roy smiled as Johnny frowned at his words. "Ahh, my back's a lot better than it was." Johnny grinned over the top of his coffee cup. "Tammy was great. She kept me fed, so I didn't have to cook. And, she made sure I had hot showers twice a day with a back rub afterwards." "Sounds like she's a good nurse." Johnny swallowed a mouthful of coffee. "She sure is." He walked slowly to the table and pulled out a chair. Gingerly, he sat down; a slight groan escaped his lips. "You should see Brackett at Rampart, too. You sure you can work today?" Roy asked as he followed his partner to the table. Chet chose that moment to enter the kitchen. "What's wrong with Mr. Klutz this time?" Johnny rolled his eyes. "Nothing, Chet." Captain Stanley stuck his head in the door. "Roll call, gentlemen." He retreated to the bay. Chet watched as Johnny eased himself up out of his chair. "Nothing, huh Gage? Looks like you lost the wrestling match. Tammy too much for ya?" "Shut up, Chet!" Johnny and Roy said in unison. "Okay, okay." Chet threw up his arms in surrender. He followed the paramedics out to the ambulance bay. *~<~E!~>~* Two weary paramedics piled out of the squad. They had been on the go all day with no time for lunch. The current call was a "child down" call-one of the types of calls that the two firefighters hated. They grabbed the equipment and walked briskly up to the front door. Before Johnny could ring the doorbell, the door opened and a nervous, young woman waved them inside. "Come in. Davy's been sick for several days," she started to explain as she led them to a back bedroom. "This morning he was drowsy, but I could get him awake and talking to me. But, when I checked on him a few minutes ago, he wouldn't wake up." She was crying by the time she finished her story. Johnny set his box on the floor of the bedroom that held a twin bed with a race car-shaped headboard and frame. Davy's mother sat next to him and combed damp blond hair off his forehead. Tears streamed down her face and dripped onto her shirt. Roy put the biophone down on the other side of the bed. The men shared glances, when Johnny handed Roy the blood pressure cuff. The muscle annoying soreness in the morning was becoming more intense in the afternoon. Roy flexed his fist after he the cuff was around Davy's arm. Proceeding with the assessment, he pumped up the cuff to get a reading with his arm protesting the entire time. When he was done, he shook his hand and arm to get rid of some of the pain. Johnny glanced briefly at his partner before returning his attention back to the little boy. He noticed Roy protecting his arm throughout the day. They hadn't had a chance to check in at Rampart about either of their injuries. I won't make us available until someone can check him out. "What symptoms has Davy had, Mrs…?" Johnny asked as he wrote down the vital signs that Roy read off to him. "Martin. Mrs. Ronald Martin. He had a sore throat and a fever of 102, but aspirin brought it down." "Has he been able to eat or drink?" "Not much. He had a Popsicle last night. But, he threw it up later." "So, he's been vomiting, too?" "Yes, didn't I mention that?" "No, Ma'am, you didn't." "He's just been so sick." She mopped Davy's forehead with a damp cloth. "Yes, Ma'am. We're going to call the hospital and start making him better." Roy opened the biophone while Johnny questioned Mrs. Martin. "Rampart, this is County 51. How do you read?" "We read you loud and clear, County 51." Dixie's voice came over the radio. "Rampart, we have a five-year-old boy who's been ill for a few days with a sore throat and fever of 102. His mother has been treating him with ASA. He's currently unresponsive. Uh, Rampart, he's also been vomiting." Roy let go of the transmit button. "County 51 start an IV of D5W and transport immediately." The voice from the radio changed to Dr. Morton. "Ten-four, D5W and transport. County 51 clear." Roy dropped the headset into the biophone cradle. "Mrs. Martin, the ambulance should be here in a few minutes. We're going to start an IV on Davy and take him into Rampart General." "I'll need to call my husband, too." "Can you call while we're waiting for the ambulance and show them in when they get here?" "Oh, yes, certainly." She leaned over and gave Davy a kiss on his forehead. "Take good care of him." She wiped more tears out of her eyes as she left the room. Johnny strung up the intravenous solution. He handed the bag to Roy and pulled an IV catheter out of the drug box. As dehydrated as the fever and vomiting left Davy, Johnny hoped he could find a vein. The muscles in his back protested as he knelt and bent over the still form on the bed. He tied the tourniquet on the boy's upper arm and glanced over at Roy, who was again flexing his arm and hand. "Is your arm bothering you more?" Johnny asked before he turned his attention back to Davy's arm to search for a vein. He found a decent one in the inside of his elbow. Tapping the skin to raise the vein further, he followed up with another skin cleansing with alcohol. He speared the vein and taped the catheter in place. After attaching the IV solution, Johnny taped the tubing to Davy's arm and added an arm board. "It's not any worse than this morning. I just thought that using it today would take some of the soreness out." Roy closed the biophone box. "How's your back?" "Not too bad. Just hurts when I move." Johnny grinned. The ambulance attendants banged into the room. Johnny stepped over the gurney to get out of the way. Roy held the IV bag while the attendants lifted Davy on to the cot. He handed it to Johnny, who tucked it under Davy's shoulder. Mrs. Martin appeared outside the bedroom door. She had a light jacket and a purse in her arms. "My husband's going to meet me at the hospital." "You can ride in the front of the ambulance, Mrs. Martin." Johnny put his hand on her elbow to steer her down the hall and out of the way. He held open the front door for the entire troop. She followed the stretcher to the rig. When the gurney was in the bay, Ben, who was driving the ambulance, helped Mrs. Martin to the front seat. Johnny climbed into the ambulance and gently sat on the bench across from the gurney. Roy slid the drug box and biophone beside Johnny's legs. "I'll see ya at the hospital, Johnny." He banged on the back door and turned back to the squad. *~<~E!~>~* Roy gently slid the transmission into park, so he wouldn't jar his sore arm. Maybe I should have the Docs look at this arm. It's not getting any less sore. He walked into the emergency department to find his partner, which turned out to be fairly simple. Johnny was standing with one hip propped against the nurse's station talking with Dix. He had a cup of coffee that he was slurping to keep from burning his tongue. Every slurp sent shivers through Roy's body. His throat constricted, and he found it difficult to swallow despite the flow of saliva in his mouth. Roy rubbed his throat and moved his hand around back to massage his tight neck. "Oh, hey Roy," Johnny said, setting his cup down. "How's Davy doing?" "He's still unconscious. Dr. Morton said something about a new syndrome they've been seeing in kids with viral infections. When kids get aspirin and they have viral infections, sometimes they get brain swelling and liver problems. After Dr. Morton said that, I noticed the kid was looking a little yellow under the lights. Doc says the syndrome has a high fatality rate. Poor kid." "Yeah, I think I remember hearing something about that from JoAnne after she took Jenny to the pediatrician." Roy glanced at his watch. It was nearly time for supper. "Let's get going. Mike's cooking tonight. I'm getting hungry." "Sure thing, Roy." Johnny noticed Roy's gauze dressing. "Oh, Roy. Don't you want someone to look at your arm?" "What did you do to your arm, Roy?" Dixie asked. "I got a scratch on it from a rose bush that Jo and I were planting. It's kinda deep, and Johnny had to pull a thorn out of one end of it." Dixie tapped her pencil on the counter. "Let's see. Dr. Early should be available in a few minutes, if you want to wait, Roy." Roy looked at his watch, again. "I don't know. It's getting late, and the scratch seems to be healing. It's just sore." Roy looked over at Johnny. "Let's get going. I'll see if someone's available the next time we're in. We've been here at least five times today already. I suppose we'll be back, again, before the shift's over." "You're probably right, Roy. Let's go." Johnny put his cup in the sink and picked up the drug box. "Grab the biophone, will ya?" "Sure, Johnny." Roy made a concerted effort to reach with his left arm. When they got next to the squad, Johnny pulled the compartment door open. They both reached in at the same time to replace their respective equipment. Johnny pulled back after he touched Roy's arm. "Man, you're hot tonight, Roy." "Really? I don't feel hot. In fact, I feel a little chilly." Roy moved on around the squad. *~<~E!~>~* For some reason the squad's calls dropped to nothing after supper. Roy still felt stiff and cold. He sat miserably on the couch trying to watch the inane situation comedy that Chet chose on television. But, he just couldn't follow the story. Finally, he gave up and went to bed to a chorus of "G'night, Roy." He set up his bunkers and crawled into bed. Tucking the blankets as tightly as he could, Roy was soon asleep. He didn't even awaken when the rest of the crew joined him. *~<~E!~>~* Like the fire horses used early in the century, the men of Station 51 came wide awake and jumped out of their bunks when the lights blared on and the Klaxon screamed through the still station at three o'clock in the morning. Johnny and Roy groaned as they pulled on bunkers and stumbled for the door. Johnny's back was stiff from working the day before. Roy's neck, back, and right arm were nearly in spasm. He tried to swallow and found it difficult to deal with his own saliva. Finally, he was able to get the saliva bolus headed down his esophagus. Musta slept with my mouth open and dried out my throat. Flexing his right arm, he noticed the muscles were even stiffer than earlier. Must've slept wrong, he thought. Using his left arm as much as possible, Roy had the squad ready to go by the time Hank handed a copy of the address through the driver's window. Johnny adjusted his position in the seat and took the address. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and hauled the bound county map out of its compartment. He was too busy with his piloting duties to notice Roy's discomforts. The dispatcher was sending them to a "man down" call out in the county near Bear Mountain. Johnny gave Roy directions as they left the city limits. From the area he found on the map to correspond with the address, Johnny figured there was probably a hiker who got lost and fell down from a ridge. "Should be the next right, Roy." Johnny kept his eyes peeled for the small county road that would take them closest to the area. He glanced over at Roy when he didn't hear any comments. Johnny saw that Roy was concentrating on finding the road, too. Missing it would take time away from attending to the victim. Johnny shifted his attention back to the brush at the side of the road. He saw the one lane dirt road that they were looking for. "There it is, Roy. Jeez, it looks more like a hiking trail than a road. I hope there's not much traffic." Roy deftly turned the squad into the narrow road. Brush scraped against the side of the truck at times. He looked into the side mirror. The engine was moving a lot of brush out of its path. The road led to a small open area where a small Honda civic station wagon sat at the edge of the clearing. A young woman stood next to it, and turned her head away as the headlights swept over her. The engine and squad were barely able to squeeze into the small area. Captain Stanley's long stride brought him next to the young woman in just a few steps. She was twisting some tissue in her hands. Her face was streaked with dried tears. He introduced himself and the paramedics, who were hovering nearby to see what the situation required. "My… my boyfriend, Jake, was…ah, he was trying to climb up out of the canyon." "Why are you out here so late?" "We were going to spend the night, but I wanted to go home. It's too scary out here. He sent me back using the trail and a flashlight. But, Jake wanted to try climbing in the dark. He said he had enough light from the moon." She gestured toward the sky. Hank looked up automatically. He saw a star-filled sky with a half-moon hovering near the horizon. "What happened?" "He was doing pretty good. But, then I heard a rock fall. And, Jake cried out." Her face crumpled. She started crying. "Then I heard a awful thumping noise and like something rolled back down into the canyon. I think he fell. I couldn't find him with the flashlight. The light didn't reach that far. I was too scared to go back down the trail." Stanley looked back at his crew. "Get out the ropes. Marco and Chet, help anchor Roy and John." The firefighters worked like a well-oiled machine. In just a few minutes, Roy and Johnny were harnessed into the ropes and ready to descend the side of the canyon. Using the engine's front mounted racks to run the ropes through, Chet and Marco adopted wide stances and braced themselves to belay their crew mates. Johnny adjusted his helmet one last time. Grabbing the rope above and below the carabiner on his ladder belt, he stepped to the edge of the canyon. He could barely see the rocks he was about to clamber over. Roy also paused beside Johnny before heading over the edge. He flexed his right arm one last time before getting a grip on the rope. He notified his friends that he was going on belay and stepped over the edge. Roy clenched the rope with his right hand below his body. He could barely feel the rope in his hand. His stiff neck kept him from twisting his head to see his hand. Roy felt himself dropping more quickly than he intended. He tried to stop his plunge by gripping the rope tighter. But, his hand wouldn't cooperate. In the darkness he couldn't see where to place his feet, and he quickly lost his balance. He tried to slow his descent with his left hand on the rope stretching above him to the men near the engine. He was moderately successful. However, he was seriously off center at that point. He tripped on a large boulder and fell sideways, losing his grip on the rope. Johnny's descent was controlled and steady. The scrape of his boots against the rocks filled his ears. As he swung his head back and forth, trying to locate suitable places to put his feet, he noticed that Roy descended much more quickly than he had. That's weird. Roy's usually the cautious one. Roy bounced off the wall and continued his uncontrolled drop to the bottom of the canyon. He rolled over a small bush and came to a stop about sixty yards below the rim. His extremities felt like wood. Saliva drooled from his mouth as he found himself increasingly unable to handle secretions. Luckily he landed on his side, so the spit could drain out of his mouth and not obstruct his airway. Clinging to the edge of consciousness, Roy struggled to keep his chest muscles and diaphragm working to move air in and out of his lungs. Johnny heard a noise that sounded remarkably similar to what the girl described when her boyfriend fell down the canyon wall. He tried to find Roy. Where did he go? When he was unsuccessful, Johnny braced himself on a couple of rocks and cried "off belay" to the guys handling the ropes. He pulled the flashlight from his pocket and swept it over the rock face. Working his way down the wall with the light, he found some torn up vegetation and areas where the soil and rocks were disturbed. He followed the trail down the canyon with the light. Just at the edge of the flashlight's reach, light reflected off the tape on Roy's turnout coat. What the hell happened to him? Johnny couldn't understand why Roy was lying at the bottom of the canyon. They rappelled in harsher conditions without any problems. Without wasting a minute more thinking about it, Johnny began working his way down to Roy's still form. When he made it down to his partner, he pulled the handie talkie out of his pocket to let the Captain know he needed a stretcher and help with Roy. While talking to his captain, Johnny placed two fingers beside Roy's radial pulse and got an initial estimate of his heart rate. Moving his hand to Roy's chest, Johnny was surprised to feel very shallow, slow breathing. "Roy… Roy can you hear me?" Johnny was shouting at his friend as he put the walkie talkie back in his coat. "C'mon, Roy, talk to me." Roy could only grunt in answer. Why can't I talk to him? It's as though my body is paralyzed. Did I hurt my neck when I fell? Johnny used his flashlight to survey Roy's body. He couldn't find any major injuries. He did notice that Roy was drooling heavily. When he tried to get Roy into a more comfortable position, Johnny found that Roy's muscles were rigid. Despite not understanding what was causing Roy's distress, Johnny knew that he would soon have to assist Roy in breathing. Glancing up the canyon wall, Johnny noticed that the sky was getting slightly lighter as the sun crept closer to the horizon. He knew that he had done all he could for his partner until the guys on top got equipment down to him. He swept his flashlight over the area around them and further down the gently sloping canyon wall. He found Jake. The man was laying face down about twenty yards to the left of Roy.   Even though he wanted nothing more than to stay at Roy's side, Johnny moved over to where Jake lay. He nudged Jake's shoulder and called his name. Jake picked up his head and turned to see who woke him up. "Hey, Man. How're you doing? Are you hurt?" Jake sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Naw." He drew his legs up to get on his feet. "Wait a minute, Man. Why didn't you get back up on top? Didn't you think your girlfriend would be worried?" "Oh, yeah. I guess I forgot. I, uh, slipped and I guess I was too tired to, uh, climb back up, again." He gestured angrily up the canyon. "She's the one that wanted to leave in the middle of the night." "Okay. Let me help you up." Johnny helped Jake to his feet. "Some of the guys'll be down here in a few minutes and help you get back on top." Johnny turned and made his way back to Roy. "What happened to him?" Jake asked. "I'm not sure. He fell part of the way, but I can't find any injuries." "He don't look too good," Jake observed as he peered at Roy's face. Johnny took a closer look, using the flashlight. Jake was right. Roy's face was getting blue. He flipped Roy further onto his back and tried to bring his head back to open his airway more. The saliva still dripped out of Roy's mouth, but he was breathing a little easier. Johnny had to hold Roy's head back, or the rigid muscles would pull it back to center. Johnny glanced up as the clang of the stokes stretcher and skittering rocks announced the arrival of Chet and Marco. He turned his attention back to his friend. The symptoms reminded him of something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Chet and Marco deposited the stokes next to Roy. Without hesitation, the three firefighters lifted Roy's stiffened body into the stretcher and belted him in. Johnny pulled out the walkie talkie and let Captain Stanley know that the stretcher was ready to be pulled up the canyon. Not wanting to wait for the men to pull him up, too, Johnny started climbing the rocks and pulling himself up with the rope. He left Chet and Marco to help Jake to the top. When Johnny cleared the top of the canyon wall, he was relieved to see Captain Stanley administering oxygen to Roy. The paramedic equipment was sitting nearby, also. Taking a few minutes to assess Roy's breathing and heart rate, Johnny noticed that Roy's heart was beating irregularly, too. Johnny quickly readied an esophageal airway, and while cringing at the force needed to insert the rigid tube, he pushed it into Roy's throat. Attaching the oxygen, Johnny nodded to Captain Stanley to begin breathing for Roy. Johnny took off the ladder belt and opened Roy's turnout coat. He yanked scissors from his belt and slit the T-shirt open. Swiftly, he applied heart monitor leads to the Roy's chest. He pulled the blood pressure cuff from the box. Roy tried to turn away from Johnny's use of the esophageal airway. The large tube scraped through his mouth and down his throat. What's going on? Why can't I move? Even his eyes resisted his efforts to move them. When he heard the heart monitor bleeping irregularly, Roy knew he was indeed seriously ill. The realization didn't ease his mind or help his situation as his heart rate increased in rate and irregularity. In a few moments Johnny had a full set of vital signs for the doctor at the base station. He grabbed the biophone and opened a channel to Rampart. His voice shook with the adrenaline rushing through his body as he waited for an answer from the hospital to treat Roy. When Dr. Brackett's voice boomed back over the biophone, Johnny felt some of the tightness leave his chest. He knew that Roy would be in good hands. Brackett ordered an IV and some diazepam to relieve the muscle spasms. He added a lidocaine drip when the monitor showed more premature ventricular contractions. Johnny had the IV attached when Roy's legs and arms started twitching. It wasn't exactly a seizure, but the muscles were definitely in spasm. Johnny quickly administered the muscle relaxer. After a few moments the muscle twitching decreased perceptibly. Johnny sighed in relief as Roy's arms and legs relaxed. He placed a hand on Roy's abdomen to check his respiratory effort after telling Captain Stanley to stop giving Roy breaths for a moment. He didn't feel any respiratory movement. But, Roy's abdomen was stiff as a board. Johnny nodded at Hank to continue artificial respirations. The symptoms Roy was having triggered a vague memory for Johnny of another run with a similar profile. Johnny didn't noticed the ambulance's arrival until the attendants were standing beside him. He closed the drug box and radio, trotting over to the ambulance to get them aboard. Loading Roy didn't take long, since he was already in the stokes basket. Johnny helped guide the gurney to its clamps. Knowing they were at least thirty minutes from Rampart, Johnny tried to remain patient during the long ride. He felt helpless watching his partner and friend lying motionless on the gurney receiving life-giving breaths from his own hands. Lost in his reverie Johnny barely felt the ambulance turn the corner at the garage beside Rampart. He tucked the IV bag under Roy's shoulder as the ambulance backed up to the door. Doctor Brackett was standing at the back of the rig when the doors opened. Johnny shot him a worried glance before returning his attention to breathing for Roy as the stretcher was pulled out. "How's he doing, Johnny?" "About the same, Doc. No more twitching. But, he's not breathing on his own at all." Brackett led them into Treatment Room Two. "And, you don't think he was hurt coming down the canyon?" "I, uh, don't think so. I didn't see him fall, but he didn't have any injuries I could find." "Okay." Brackett was beginning his examination. "Carol, run a trauma panel with ABGs, head, neck, and spine x-rays, and a twelve-lead EKG. Also, get respiratory down here with a vent and get him hooked up." Kelly was working his way down Roy's torso and arms. He found the gauze dressing on Roy's right arm. "What happened here, Johnny?" "Oh, yeah, he was working in the flower beds and a rose bush got him." "Rose bush?" "He was planting a new bush for JoAnne. One of the thorns scratched quite a ways down his arm. The thorn was buried at the top of the wound. I pulled it out for him." "And, how long ago was that?" Brackett unwound the gauze dressing. He found an angry looking laceration with some yellow drainage on the dressing. "It was Sunday." Johnny leaned over to get a look at the wound. "Wow, that looks pretty ugly. He was complaining of his arm hurting earlier. He was going to have someone check it out the next time he came in. But, this is the first we've been back since late yesterday afternoon." "Did Roy get a tetanus booster after this happened?" "Tetanus? No, we've both had boosters in the past year. I cleaned it out with hydrogen peroxide and dressed it." "Was he working with fertilizer or manure?" Johnny thought back to Sunday. "Manure. I'm pretty sure it was bagged manure." "I think he's got a tetanus infection. Carol, give him one million units of penicillin IV stat and every four hours." "Is he gonna be okay, Doc?" Johnny asked as he watched Carol prepare the antibiotic. "Well, his case is pretty far advanced and rapidly progressing. But, with appropriate supportive care and some antibiotics, he should be okay. We'll keep him sedated until the muscle spasms decrease." "What can I tell JoAnne?" Bracket pursed his lips. "Tell her he'll be okay. And, I'll talk to her when she gets here. We should start seeing some improvement as the penicillin begins circulating." "Okay, Doc. I'll give her a call." Johnny leaned over his friend. His color was improved. But, Johnny would rather see him responding normally. "I'll be right back, Roy." the story continues .