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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
Completed:
2010-08-30
Words:
18,590
Chapters:
10/10
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22
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Between A Rock and A Hard Place

Summary:

There was just no escaping it. John Gage knew he was going to be badly hurt. All the paramedic had to decide now was 'how'.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: The E! characters don't belong to me. They have been borrowed strictly for fun and not for fortune.

"Between A Rock and A Hard Place"
By Ross

Chapter One

At precisely 15:22, a call came into LA County's Fire Station 51.

Hikers up in San Dimas Canyon had reported seeing a car go over a cliff.

Both Engine 51 and Squad 51 were dispatched to the scene.
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It took the rescuers fifteen minutes to rendezvous with the Sheriff Department deputy, who was to guide them to the site of the accident.
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Another twenty minutes of white-knuckled driving, and the firemen finally reached the spot where the vehicle had—reportedly—left the ridiculously narrow, twisting, dirt roadway and plunged over a precipice. 
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Ropes were secured to the tow hooks on Big Red's front bumper and leather lifebelts were donned.

The lifelines were manned and paramedic, John Gage, began rappelling down the treacherously steep cliff, following the same course the falling car had taken.

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In no time at all, the first rescuer reached the wreck. 

The falling vehicle had finally come to rest in the thick underbrush, two hundred and some feet below the roadway.

The rust-colored automobile was badly banged up, but amazingly, still upright.

A middle-aged man was standing just outside of it, holding onto his open car door, apparently, for support.

Gage didn't know what he found more surprising, the fact that the accident victim was able to stand...or that the man had been able to open his crumpled car door.  "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I...don'tthinkso," the man slurred.

The paramedic slid to a stop beside the dazed-looking guy, detached himself from his lifeline, and poked his helmeted head into the vehicle.  The overwhelming smell of ‘booze' just about took his breath away.  "Was anyone else in the car with you?" he anxiously inquired.

"I...don'tthinkso," the inebriated fellow repeated.  "Why-y?  Was there-there supposedtobe?"

Gage disguised his disgust and slipped the long, leather shoulder strap of his handy-talky over his helmeted head.  He removed his gloves, raised the hand-held radio to his tightly pursed lips and thumbed its call button.  "Engine 51, this is HT 51.  We have one victim: a middle-aged man.  Victim believes he is uninjured.  Cap, you can hold off on the equipment.  I, uh, think we better make this a ‘grab and go'.  Aside from being primo rattler terrain, when the car came down, it must a' destabilized this entire hillside, because we got a lot a' little landslides goin' on down here.  If some of the bigger boulders break free and start rollin', it could get real ‘interesting' in a hurry..."

"HT 51, Engine 51.  10-4," his Captain acknowledged.  "We're sending down ‘just' the Stokes.  Will you be needing any assistance in getting the victim loaded?"

The victim was already 'loaded'.

Gage fought back a grin. "Negative, Cap," the paramedic soberly replied. "The victim is...‘somewhat' mobile.  Roy can just stay put.  I'll do an IPS on him while I'm waiting for the Stokes.  Roy can check the guy's vitals again, when he gets topside.  Oh...and it may interest the Sheriff's deputy to know that the inside of the car smells like a distillery..."

"I'll be sure to pass that particular bit of information along.  Engine 51 out."

The man gazed at his surroundings, looking more than a little mystified.  "Where am I...an-anyways?  Is this V-V-Van Nuys?"

The paramedic backed off a bit from his victim's whiskey breath and stared at the guy in disbelief.  "You're standing at the bottom of a two-hundred-foot cliff, in San Dimas Canyon.  My name is John Gage.  Can you tell me who you are?"

"Pete-Pete Turner," the man proudly replied.  "San Dimas Canyon? How the hell did I get he-ere?"

The fireman was certain it was with the help of a Mister ‘Jack Daniels'.  "Mr. Turner, I'm a fireman/paramedic with Los Angeles County, and I'm just going to check you out here.  Okay?"  His victim didn't protest, so he sat the groggy guy down on the front seat of his car and began his initial patient survey.
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The paramedic completed his initial physical assessment of their accident victim.

If the drunken driver did have any injuries, he sure couldn't find them.

John heard the sound of rocks rattling against rocks and glanced up.

The descending Stokes was causing more loose gravel and stones to come cascading down the side of the exposed precipice.

The fireman crossed over to where the Stokes' dropped line had landed, latched onto it and then used it to guide the stretcher down to their victim's precise position. 

"All right, now, Mr. Turner, the fire department is going to give you a free ride—topside."  Gage pulled his patient back up onto his unsteady feet.  "If I can just get you to lie down in this basket, here, for me...I'll get you all strapped in, so you won't fall out, and you'll be right back up on the road again, before you know it."

The booze-befuddled fellow glanced around for a few moments and then let out a ridiculously loud belch.  "What...what roa-oad?"

Once more, the fireman did a masterful job of concealing his disdain.  "You'll see," the paramedic simply predicted.

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Gage got the ‘victim' safely stowed away in the Stokes and then slid his radio's strap from his shoulder.  "HT 51 to Engine 51.  Patient is ready to transport..."

"Engine 51 to HT 51.  We copy that..." his Captain promptly came back.

The rescuer slung the radio's strap back over his shoulder, re-donned his leather gloves and grabbed the stretcher's guideline. 

The bottom of the Stokes' began scraping its way up the steep hillside, causing more loose rocks and gravel to come cascading down upon its anchorman.

John wrapped the stretcher's guideline around his waist and leaned his full weight back into the rope.  His action had the desired result.

The Stokes raised up off the ground just enough to slow the production of all those little loose rock avalanches.
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It took an interminably long time for the Stokes to reach the top of the 200-foot cliff.

The rescuer released the stretcher's guideline and was just about to reattach himself to his own lifeline, when he heard an all too familiar ‘rattle'.   The paramedic promptly froze.  Without moving his head, or any other muscle, in the slightest, the fireman forced himself to chance a sideways glance in the direction of the extremely ominous sound.

There, on the gravelly ground between the open car door and his left pant leg, was the largest California rattler Gage had ever seen.  The ‘all riled up' reptile had apparently slithered out from under the wrecked vehicle and was now all coiled up-and all too ready to strike!

‘Oh shit!' 

Why did stupid people have to go around ‘pissing off' poisonous snakes—and why did he have be the one on the ‘receiving end' of their wrath? 

‘Maybe...if I just stay really really still...it will just ‘slither away'?' he silently hoped.

TBC