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Stoker offered another possibility. "He might have his hands full doing other
things, Chet. Like caring
for victims. I know that would be the first thing he'd
try for regardless of what was going on with
himself personally."
Marco thought on a tangent. "Where's Roy? All of this has got to be going
down hard with him."
Cap replied, stroking a softly whining Henry on the bed beside him. "Shhh,
pal.
It's okay. We're just talking." he looked up with an answer. "Battalion said
he's at CHiPs
Headquarters in a Triage tent, getting some shut eye."
"What's he doing there?" asked Marco.
"They needed a Head of Triage. Seems that folks are showing up at the highway
patrol office in droves,
looking for medical help." Cap replied.
"That place isn't very big." Chet said.
"I know.
Hence the tent." Hank nodded. "A rescue squad's been posted there for
the duration."
"Who?"
Stoker asked, curious.
"Us. Brice and Bellingham." Hank answered.
"They were here?" Chet
asked, surprised.
"Yeah, for five hours. You were out like a light, Chet." said Marco told him.
"They came, slept, and went."
"Sorry for not noticing." Kelly said defensively.
"Hey, none
of that. We're all getting irritated here, not just me." Cap warned.
"And that's something that's
going to stop."
Woof! said Henry.
"Just keep trying there, Kelly. We've got three hours
to kill before we can go
back on duty." Hank ordered.
"Yes, sir." replied Kelly.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dixie looked at Liz Stanton, Kate Brown, Stanley Dubois and all the other
Mayfair EMTs gathered
in front of her at Incident Command at the edge of
the field. "Our duties have changed, at least,
for a while. We've caught up
with search and rescue teams with regards to transporting out any live
victims they find. Now we're being assigned doing the opposite, for those
times in between calls."
"Body recovery?" asked the curly haired Stanley Dubois.
"Yes. Not of those here in the morgue.
Those are safely out of public eyes.
The ones we're being ordered to handle are the ones in active
rescue sites.
It seems natural decay is interfering with search dogs' accuracy in spotting
any
trapped victims. So we're going to fix that problem." McCall shared.
"We'll be taking all fatalities
to Dodger Stadium for processing by the forensics
and medical examiner offices teams."
"Ughh."
muttered Kate Brown, Liz Stanton's EMT partner.
Liz just patted her shoulder in encouragement.
"Won't be as bad as that. USAR's
already put them into body bags."
Dixie didn't hear the exchange
from where she was in front of her employees.
"Mayfairs Eight through Twelve, report to CHiP Central
in East Torrence. There's
a new Triage site being established there. Mostly minor trauma victims and
some major medicals on civilian evacuees leaving the freeway system for help.
Your job is to help
treat and take those victims to available hospitals and medical
centers. A fire department Battalion
Chief will give you your destinations via radio.
Listen for him using your callsigns once you report
in. There will be a pair of
paramedics there to prioritize."
Stan raised his hand.
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Dixie nodded.
Dubois asked his question. "What about an M.D.? Will there be one on site?"
"There can be if the need arises. He or she can fly in by helicopter. Until then,
utilize the CHiP
force in the building to assist you. Ponch and Jon are based there
and so that's another pair of EMT's
on hand." Dixie smiled. "Okay, people. Let's
move out. Read the assignment board here behind me for
where your ambulance
is to report. Don't worry about documentation. Concentrate on keeping yourselves
physically protected from contamination and infection exposure by using strict
body substance isolation
protocols and procedures. Is that understood?" Dixie
asked loudly.
Murmurs of assent returned
and slowly, the EMT teams found their relevant information
on Dixie's assignment board. They departed
one by one in their ambulances for the
streets.
Kate Brown and Liz Stanton were the last ones
to read the board. Dixie joined them.
"Find it okay?" she asked.
"Yeah." said Liz. "How are
you doing, Dixie?"
McCall's in charge demeanor suddenly fell away. "As well as to be expected.
Not
knowing's been a heavy load."
"What's she talking about, Liz?" Kate asked. "I'm missing
something here."
Liz just sighed. "Remember that paramedic named Johnny Gage who faked a head
knock on a mock for you last week?"
"Oh yes, Mr. Funny. I remember him. Why?" Miss Brown asked,
smiling conversationally.
Dixie eyed up Kate, reluctant to share the news. "He's been reported
as missing at
the bridge site. His ambulance was found washed up on the beach next to Mel
Turner's
body. Both he and an EMT, Rosalie Arnold, are presumed trapped under
one of the collapsed caissons
out in the bay."
"I'm so sorry." burbled Kate. "Anything we can do to help find them?"
"Pray."
replied Dixie dully. "Three days is an awfully long time to be caught alone under
all of that."
**************************************************
From: patti k (pattik1@hotmail.com)
Sent: Tue
12/21/10 6:42 AM
Subject: Progress..
The first thing he heard were voices near his head and
the electronic noise and beeps
of life support machines surrounding him. Vince wanted to open his
eyes, but couldn't
yet. He lay, finally lung comfortable, his breathing supported by a large specialized
mask
strapped to his face, held with clips. Howard found he hadn't the strength to move
a single
fevered muscle, even though he was wide awake inside.
"Sharon, how's Mr. Howard doing?" asked
a male voice with authority.
"He's stable, doctor. There's been no further degradation of his
respiratory efforts.
His pressure's back on track. It's sitting at 88/46. Capillary refill in all
extremities
is on the rise."
"Hmm...he's still a bit tachycardic." said the M.D., studying
the rapidly tracing EKG
monitor that Vince could hear going off to his right, next to his ear.
"His heart's beating faster than it used to be? It was fairly calm just a few seconds
ago." said
Sharon, feeling the pulse beat in the police officer's wrist.
"He might be starting to come to."
theorized the doctor. "The conditions are right.
His blood chemistry's normal now. Have one of your
nurses start checking for
higher signs of consciousness every fifteen minutes. Notify me once he's
fully
awake and responding so I can do a full neural assessment to see if he's
taking any damage
from the bacteria. Specifically, I want to rule out meningitis
effects."
"Yes, doctor." she
said as he left the room with Vince's patient chart and lab
results.
Almost immediately, Howard
heard the sounds of privacy curtains being pulled open
and a soothing woman's perfume began to fill
his nostrils. Vince almost started to
cry with the familiarity of it.
"Hey, Vince." said
Dixie McCall. Howard felt his good friend take his hand. "I just heard.
I was worried a minute ago,
but it looks like you're doing all right here." her voice smiled
vocally as she quickly studied the
readouts on all of Vince's machines. "They don't
even have you in critical care yet." The hand moved
to his forehead, feeling his internal
temperature. "Sharon?" Dixie prompted. "What was found?"
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"Septicema. A non-resistant staph infection. Gram negative stain. He was about
ten minutes away from
full neuro muscular paralysis from the toxins being
created in his bloodstream when we got to him
after he drove himself to the hospital.
We cleared most of that up with emergency dialysis. He's
currently on top dosages
of the proper antibiotic in both of those large bore I.V.s." she reported.
"And.." she
hesitated. "I think it might be my fault that he got sick." she whispered fearfully, trembling.
McCall looked up and met her eyes firmly. "Nonsense. You know full nursing care skills
and practice
them just as well as I do. And even if you were the first one to see and treat
this wound.." she said,
pointing to Vince's arm cut that had been left open to air and drain
onto a blue chux absorbing pad.
Dixie could see that it had been thoroughly cleaned
and irrigated with betadine. "..there are all
kinds of horrors happening out there in
the disaster zone, including the microbial kind. Especially
since all of the underground
sewer systems were flooded out. This is a chance infection, Sharon. It's
not due to
any kind of malpractice on your part. Septic sludge is totally contagious if not kept off
of the skin."
"He did say that he was working on evacuations in the flooded areas." Walters peeped.
"There you go. He was exposed to all of that with freshly broken skin. It was only
a matter of
time before he fell ill from something no matter how good you were treating
him beforehand. Sh*t's
filthy." she grinned cattily with exasperation.
Walters let out the tense sigh she had been holding
in with utter relief, her doe eyes
filling with tears. "I was.. so worried about him."
"You're
not the only one. Now pull yourself together. Vince's wanting good company,
not friends sobbing over
him for no good reason." Dixie chided Sharon gently.
Then McCall pulled up a stool and sat down
next to Howard's head, still holding firmly to his
hand in comfort. "Vince, I can tell by your heart
rate that you're hearing us." she said, speaking
out loud to him. "Don't worry about not being able
to move. You've been sedated as a
precaution to prevent any febrile seizures from making your condition
worse while
we kick this bug of yours. That mask you're feeling is offering you pressurized oxygen
so you don't have to work so hard at breathing. It's called a P.E.E.P." she said, tapping it
so
he knew what she was talking about. "As for the time of day, it's about seven
hours since you crawled
in here to see us." she teased. "You are most definitely
not dying. If anything, you are getting better
very rapidly, so relax that overactive brain
of yours. I'll tell you all the news you're wondering
about. You're family's been notified.
They're flying in from wherever they are and should be here
by evening. It's four forty
five p.m. Sunday. So not too long now. Work is cool about this vacation
break of yours
that you're taking." she joked. "And, throughout your beat in Torrence, there's only
a
few active search and rescue operations still going on. One of which is the one pinpointing
where
Johnny Gage may be trapped. They have a few fresh leads on that. Now, is there
anything I've left
out?" she asked Howard's lax face. The EKG monitor remained steady
in its new slow, restful rate.
"Didn't think so." Dixie grinned gently, patting him on his
blanketed shoulder. "I suggest you take
a nap. Either Sharon or somebody else will wake
you when your visitors arrive. I'll check on you again
later as soon as I possibly can with
another followup on the outside world. Get well fast." she ordered,
then she kissed him
lightly on his sweaty forehead. "See you, Germ Boy."
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"Dixie!" Sharon admonished, half laughing.
"What? That's what he is." McCall shrugged. "Gotta
have a sense of humor around this
place. Right, Vince?"
The heart rhythm on the EKG monitor
twitched.
"See?" said Dixie. She looked at her watch. "Oh, Sharon. I've got to be getting back.
My official break's over." She gave Walters a fast wave as she left the curtained room
for the exit
where a Mayfair was waiting for her to rejoin it.
A nurse from the ICU desk poked her head in
a minute later, her eyebrows raised.
"Don't tell me. Dixie was here. I can tell." she said, admiring
Vince's improved vital
signs.
Sharon nodded.
"I wish I had that kind of magic touch."
said the nurse.
"So do I." Walters smiled. "Let me know when he fully awakens, all right? I'll
be
downstairs, back in the full chaos again."
"I don't envy you." said the ICU charge nurse.
"It's not so bad any more. Not since Dixie taught me a few things." she said in
sudden self discovery.
She smiled at the memory fondly.
"Whoa. You're no longer nervous about being head nurse of the
entire E.R.?
Newflash! Tell all once all this is all over?" she asked, playing with Sharon's
good
mood.
"You bet, Carol." Sharon promised. She tucked Vince's blanket up a little higher
tenderly
and then quietly pulled Howard's privacy curtain shut behind her as
she left for the elevator. "Behave
yourself." she teased the officer in a whisper.
Vince mental grin faded into the gray of wholesome
sleep, as he was
infinitely reassured by the jab.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Pon and Jon Baker stood panting on the rocks, sipping water bottles while they
watched USAR map
out where fallen road sections had settled in and around
Caisson One.
"Did you hear?" Frank
asked his equally overheated partner.
"What?" asked Jon.
"Vince is down. Some kind of blood
bug."
"Is he all right?" Baker asked, shocked.
"Yeah, he'll be fine. I just talked to Dixie."
said Frank. "Some instinct made him
visit the hospital just before he collapsed." he panted, still
tired from digging.
"That's some instinct." gaped Jon. "I wonder what it was that tipped him off?"
"When he gets better, maybe we can ask him." Ponch shrugged as he sat down
onto an empty trauma
box to catch his wind again. Then he eyed up the scene.
"This grid by grid probing thing... it's taking
too long." he groused.
Baker agreed, nodding.
"Why aren't they using the dogs anymore?"
Ponch asked, irritated.
"USAR tells me it's because there are now too many body parts lying around,
buried and in the water. The dogs are getting confused by all the abundance of
human scent from
the rescuers, too. It's throwing them off." Jon explained.
"But I totally agree with you. There's
got to be a better way."
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Ponch leaned over, towelling off his neck with a rag while leaning elbows
over his dirty knees.Suddenly
something clicked in his mind like a thunderbolt.
"No, Jon. Listen! What we need...is a better dog."
he said excitedly.
"What?"
"Station 51, man!" he said, bouncing back up to his feet. "They've
got a Basset
Hound there, right? And what better search dog can there be than one who
knows the
victim?"
Jon's face lit up in comprehension. "Ponch, you get the craziest ideas sometimes,
but
this one, I really like." he crowed.
"Come on, let's go!" Ponch told him, running for the road.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The
bell at Station 51 rang at the kitchen side door. Ann, the Red Cross worker
answered it. "Yes?" she
asked. "Are you two officers looking for a meal? You've
come to the right place." she said happily,
swinging the door wide open in
invitation.
"No, ma'am. Not right now. This is official business."
said Baker.
"We need to speak to this station's captain. It's urgent!" said Ponch.
"Oh,
my.. If it's an emergency.." minced Char, her companion cook.
"Ladies, everything going on the
last three days have been emergencies."
Ponch insisted.
"They're all sleeping still. Just nodded
off the poor dears." said Ann.
"They'll be happy we woke them." Ponch said. "Excuse me." he said
as he and Jon ran for the apparatus bay. They drew out their flashlights
and headed for the silent
bunkroom.
"Captain? Captain Stanley? We need to talk to you immediately!" shouted
Ponch as
they entered.
Hank shot up in his bed with the skill of years of waking reaction. "I'm up!
We're
all up! What's the story? What's happened?"
Ponch grinned, aiming his torch at the sleepy expression
on Cap's face.
"You mean what's going to happen."
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Hank shoved it out of his eyes and flicked on the light to get over the
pain of readjustment to daylight.
"Tell all." he prompted.
Jon started in eagerly. "Got one of Johnny's dirty shirts handy? Your
dog's going on active duty as of right now."
Cap gaped and smacked himself on the forehead. "Why
didn't we think
of that?" he asked incredulously.
"Because we were too tired, Cap." said Chet,
dressing eagerly.
"Stoker." snapped Cap. "We're going back there pronto. Go warm up the Ward."
"Yes, sir."
"Marco.." Cap directed. "Go grab Henry and some of Johnny's old laundry.
The
smellier the better."
"Right, Cap." Lopez nodded, running from the room.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Engine 51 screamed down deserted 223rd Avenue with full lights and sirens, nimbly
escorted by
Ponch and Jon on their lights activated motorcycles, leading the way.
Chet hugged Henry tightly
in his lap to control him. The dog was beside himself
with eagerness. He had figured it out. But
Kelly was worried about other things.
"Just how much trouble are we going to be in for coming back
on duty two hours
early?" he asked Marco, seated next to him.
"None." replied Lopez, hugging
a bag full of Gage's laundry. "We're just following
Captain's orders."
Stanley had overheard
the conversation and he turned back ferally. "USAR's gonna
have major egg on their faces when we find
him first and they don't despite all
their fancy gear. Henry's just a pet, remember?" he grinned happily.
"Still kicking
myself that I didn't listen to the Old Boy." he said patting Henry's sides affectionately
with his work gloves. "He was trying to tell us. Didn't you see how he camped out in
the squad's
footprint this morning and refused to move?"
"Woof!" said Henry.
"He knew about the possibility
way beforehand?" gaped Marco.
"Yep." said Cap.
"That's one smart dog. But it took a pair
of highway patrolmen to figure it out for us."
Chet admired.
"Henry knows what his job's
gonna be that's for sure." said Stoker, eyeing them all up in
his rear view mirror.
"It's not
a job to him, Mike." said Kelly. "It's more like fixing a major cosmic wrong in
his whole universe."
"Just so long as it works." muttered Hank, tightening his helmet strap as they bounced
along the
road.
"Amen." replied the gang.
And Henry. He added an empathetic.. "Woof!"
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