Work Text:
The Breaking Point
…a critical moment of personal stress.
By GCS
Emergency is not mine…it belongs to Universal and Mark VII.
“Has he responded at all?” Dr. Kelly Brackett asked as soon as he burst into the exam room. He knew the answer as soon as he glanced at Nurse Dixie McCall, her lips pressed into a solid frown; she simply nodded as she continued taking vitals. “Where’s Roy?”
“Dr. Early has him in treatment three.” Dixie told him as she pumped up the blood pressure cuff. “He’s still unconscious.”
“Do we know what happened?” Kel asked as he checked for any abdominal tenderness.
“The transmission was for a flashover and ceiling collapse.” Dixie handed Kel the otoscope. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Brice suspected problems with the ears, since he wouldn’t respond to questions.”
He took the device and began looking in the ear closest to him. Then carefully leaned across and peered into the other ear. A faint whimper made him pull back and look down into squinted brown eyes. “Johnny, can you hear me?” The eyes slid closed. Kel leaned across and gently slid the otoscope into the other ear. “I think Brice was right. Dixie, get a specialist up here.”
Dixie smiled, “He should be here any minute.”
Kel smiled back at her. “Good Girl.” The staff at Rampart had long since learned to trust the instincts of their paramedics, and aggravating as he usually was, Brice was one of the best. “And X-Ray?” He asked just as Malcolm came rattling into the room with the portable unit. Kel winked at Dixie. “Full series and…”
“Stat…” Malcolm smiled at the ER Doc.
“Stat.” Kel repeated. “Thanks, Malcolm.”
“No problem, Doc. He’s one of ours.”
Dixie followed Kel from the room and handed him Johnny’s chart. After reviewing the vitals and jotting down a few notes of his own he handed the chart back to her. “I’m going to check on Roy. Let me know as soon as the X-rays are back.”
“Yes sir.” Dixie turned toward her desk as Kel disappeared into treatment three.
“How is he?” He asked Dr. Joe Early.
“Definite concussion, probable tib fracture…not sure the extent, maybe the fib too, but X-rays will tell for sure. Have you seen Malcolm yet?”
“He’s with Johnny now; should be over here next.” Kel flashed his pen light into Roy’s eyes.
“Okay, Carol can you get me a blood sample? Brice said they both took in some smoke.”
Carol re-inflated the BP cuff and swabbed Roy’s arm.
“Let’s do a full work up. Brice also said there were chemicals stored at the scene.”
“Yes sir.”
51-51-51
Earlier…
Smoke surged around the broken glass and metal bars reaching toward the clear blue sky.
Flames crackled and popped as they fiercely devoured the dried timbers that had held the glass in place.
Tendrils of orange, yellow and red stretched in a delicate dance upward in search of its next prey.
Heated ash floated down to the sidewalk below like sparkles from a fireworks display; some landing on the shoulders of the men who worked steadily to try to save the structure and the poor souls trapped inside.
“Make it fast.” Captain Stanley requested of his two paramedics. “There are at least two teens missing. They were having their own Labor Day party.”
Roy paused before sliding his face mask on and looked at his Captain. “Drugs?”
“Well they won’t admit it.” He waved his arm toward the huddled clump of bleary eyed teens. “But by the looks of their eyes I’m sure they’re all a little stoned.”
Roy nodded and put his mask in place. He looked to Johnny to be sure he was ready. A simple nod between the two men; they both turned and hurried to the building. The fire was fast and hot. They wouldn’t have much time to search. If those kids had tried to find their way out they could be anywhere now.
“Hank.” Vince greeted. “Man, I hate working holidays. Just gives kids more opportunities to break into businesses while they are closed for the day off.”
“Yeah, but the sad thing is they don’t think about what might be in there when they light up. This place is full of chemicals.” Hank looked toward the door his paramedics had disappeared into. “The rest of the party is over there.” He pointed Vince in the direction of the wide eyed teens.
“Thanks.” Vince held up his radio to call for assistance with the juveniles. “I hope you find the others.”
“Me too.” Hank shook his head in disgust. His men were inside a ticking bomb looking for two juvenile delinquents who didn’t even understand the meaning of Labor Day. It is supposed to be a day to celebrate the contributions workers made to their companies and how those companies added to the prosperity of the country, a day for laborers to spend with their families; a day for picnics and parades.
As they moved past Marco and Chet, Roy gripped Marco’s shoulder and pointed into the black haze. Marco who was on point nodded his understanding. If Johnny and Roy weren’t manning a hose there were victims to locate. He and Chet began moving deeper; clearing a path for the rescuers.
Flames danced up the walls and flicked out at the pallet stacks, reaching, spreading. The men knew they had little time. The deeper they moved into the building the more intense the heat became. Unless the two teens had found a secure place to hide away from the heat and smoke there was little hope of their survival, if they weren’t already dead, but the four men continued into the eerie red laced blackness.
About half way through the expanse they began to hear loud popping noises echoing through the darkness. Then somewhere in the distance they heard the evacuation horns and the HT in Chet’s pocket crackled to life with the call to abandon the search. He and Marco were closer to the exit than Johnny and Roy. Marco shut off the nozzle and the two men dropped the hose and began a hasty retreat hoping Johnny and Roy weren’t far behind. Chet even glanced over his shoulder to make sure his friends were behind them; turning back to the front only after he saw movement in the shadows. He and Marco had just emerged into the daylight when an explosion rocked the ground beneath their feet and suddenly it was as if they were running in the air, arms flailing and landing with a whoosh of air as it left their lungs. Momentarily stunned the two men struggled to right themselves. Other firefighters were quick to assist them to their feet. It was then they knew their friends hadn’t made it out.
“Chet, Marco, you guys okay?” Cap asked with one hand on each man’s shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah Cap, we’re good.” Chet answered softly.
“Dios.” Marco whispered as he looked back at the partially collapsed structure.
Screams could be heard from the group of teens being ushered into the back of a police department van. The fire units sprang back into action, battling back the newly heightened flames. Brice and Bellingham were suited up and ready to go in to find Gage and Desoto as soon as the all clear was given.
Instead of a parade of floats and marching bands a parade of red flashing lights and a melody of sirens pierced the air as another alarm answered the call.
Chet and Marco shook off their trip through the air, sucked down some water at their Captain’s ‘request’, and went back to fight the beast. Mike had pulled another hose, disconnected the one partially buried inside the building and had a new one waiting on his linemen. He looked at the two men and without so much as a word begged them to go find their friends. Marco gripped Mike’s shoulder. “We’ll find them.” Mike nodded and returned to his post. He knew the importance he played in this game, but sometimes he missed being on the hose, plowing through the rubble and pushing back the flames, especially when his friends were somewhere inside.
Captain Stanley continued trying to raise his men on the HT. It was times like this when even a Captain neared the breaking point, when he had no way of knowing if his men, his friends, were seriously hurt or even alive. He bit the inside of his lip. His hand shook as he depressed the button once again calling to his men. He slid his helmet back and wiped the sweat from his brow. Then he repositioned it. This was no time to lose control. His men were counting on him. Johnny and Roy were counting on him, but so was the rest of the crew. He glanced over to Mike and shook his head. For a second he almost laughed. Mike could ask a hundred questions without ever saying a word. Strange he thought, strange that he could find humor in this situation. Maybe he had finally reached his breaking point.
A sudden crackle and tinny voice came from the HT in his hand. There wasn’t time for him to consider a break down. Not now. Brice and Bellingham had found his men. They were injured, but they were alive. His helmet tilted back on his head as he once again wiped away the sweat. He turned and made eye contact with his engineer who must have heard the news as well. Mike was smiling. Hank turned back to the exit he knew Brice and Bellingham would come from any minute. Chet and Marco dropped their hose and ran to meet the paramedics; helping them with their friends. Each had a man draped over his shoulder. Hank moved over to the squad and began pulling the equipment he knew they would need. By the time the men reached him he had two yellow blankets laid out and the bio-phone on stand-by with Dr. Early waiting for vitals.
In no time they had his men treated and packaged. The back doors to the ambulance closed with a click and Hank slapped it twice, letting the driver know it was safe to pull out. Hank watched until the tail lights of the squad disappeared around the corner. He turned back to the scene and for the first time he really saw how lucky his men were to come out of there alive. It was a shame the two teens had not been found in time. Their job was that of recovery now. The momentary celebration after finding Johnny and Roy had faded to regrets of losing the two kids, but sadly that was part of the job…part of what could lead a man to the breaking point.
Mike held out a cup of water to his mentor and friend. “Thanks.” Hank was glad for the coolness as he first rinsed and then drank. “Any word on the victims?” He asked his second in command. Mike looked at his feet and nodded. “Well, let’s get back to work. We still have a fire to put out.”
It seemed like hours ago now that the four men sat in the lounge at Rampart sipping on stale coffee; waiting on news of their friends. Truthfully, it had only been about twenty minutes, but an air of defeat filled the space. Defeat in losing the structure, but mostly in finding the remains of two teens that would never see another parade or throw a Frisbee at a family picnic.
The only thing that could make their day better would be some good news about their shift mates. After waiting for what seemed half a lifetime the door opened and Doctors Brackett and Early came in smiling.
On the way back to the station the engine had to wait in traffic as the end of the Carson Labor Day Parade passed. The last marching band played a peppy tune. Cap looked over at Mike drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat. He glanced back at his linemen and noticed they were grinning and pointing at the shorts clad women twirling flags. He couldn’t help the smile that spread. Maybe working on Labor Day hadn’t been so bad after all.