"Hey, Roy," Chet Kelly greeted when Roy came into the common room of the fire station. Smoothing out his mustache with one hand, he handed Roy a cup of coffee with the other. "How's Gage doing? I came by your house yesterday and Joanne said you two were out looking at apartments."
"Yeah, Roy. Every time I called, Joanne would tell me that John wasn't there," Stanley interjected. Mike and Marco both nodded, wanting to know what was happening to their fellow firefighter.
Roy went to the table and sat down, heaving a sigh. "He's taking it pretty hard. I don't know if I blame him, though. The fact that one of his neighbors died has hit him pretty hard."
"He staying with you until he can find a new apartment?" Marco asked. His family had prayed for the tenants of the building, a long vigil that was held at the local church and had ended at sundown on the day after the fire.
The topic of conversation walked in, acutely aware that the murmuring he'd heard before entering the room had stopped as soon as he crossed the threshold from the vehicle bay. "Hey, Guys." Johnny ignored the pity he imagined he saw coming from their eyes and instead went to the refrigerator to pour himself a glass of milk.
Stanley stood and walked over to Johnny. "You know Pal, if there's anything we can do for you, just let us know."
Johnny felt his face flush and instantly regretted not calling in sick. The captain would have understood. "I just want…"
The tones sounded, signaling the station that they were about to receive a run. Without hesitation, all six men jumped up and headed for the vehicle bay, ready to don their coats and helmets.
"Station 51, man down a well. Camptown Road off Wild Brush Pass. Time out - 7:55."
Roy started up the squad, his partner strapping on his own helmet as Mike Stoker cranked the big engine. Captain Stanley wrote down the address, then acknowledged the call, "Station 51, KMG 365."
Taking the address from the captain, Roy handed the small piece of paper to his partner then put the squad in gear and led the way to the scene.
"Isn't that the place where we had that house fire?" Johnny asked. His memory had been jarred by a sudden tingle as he thought something about the run seemed off.
"I think it is. Guess we'll know soon enough," Roy answered. Keeping a calm exterior hid the nervousness he felt creeping into his body. He dismissed it as a side effect of adrenaline and concentrated on his driving.
Daniel Struthers stood next to a well, a rock wall encircling the cavernous hole. A small roof shaded the well from the sun, to prevent evaporation of the water below. Daniel waved at the driver of the squad, glancing nervously toward the police car hidden behind the charred remains of the house.
Roy and Johnny both got out of the squad and were met by their captain and Marco.
"Daniel, right?" Marco asked, glad he had remembered the boy's name.
Daniel nodded slowly. "Y-Yeah. My-My dad w-was fixing th-the well. He-He fell in. You n-need to hurry, p-please."
"Is there any water down there, Daniel?" Hank asked as Roy and Johnny re turned to the squad for their repelling gear.
"I-I heard a splash wh-when he fell. I-I don't kn-know how much is-is down there though," Daniel's hands shook with fear. He was sure his stuttering would give the plan away. When Roy and Johnny returned and handed ropes to Chet and Mike, his fear of discovery was replaced by fear for his father. "The wall is-is not real st-stout. Only one-one of you can go-go down and you'll n-need to use the-the well rope." His lie paid off.
Johnny checked his gear. "Guess I'd better go, Roy. I'll let you know when I'm at the bottom and then you can come down, okay? We can use the pulley to send down the equipment."
Roy nodded in agreement, then looked to the barn where he thought he'd seen a flash of light. There was nothing there except the big wooden building. The loft door stood open, small bits of hay flying from the gaping maw.
"Okay, I'll get the stokes and boxes ready. We'll lower them down when you're ready." A ladder was placed over the rock wall, giving Johnny a means to grab the rope without putting undue stress on the wall.
Johnny hung suspended over the hole, his only lifeline was rope that wound through the pulley and descended into the well. The firemen gathered around the well, unaware of what was about to happen.
A shot rang out, the bullet bit through the rope causing it to fray. Johnny felt the rope being compromised. He squeezed his eyes shut, sending up a quick prayer. "What the hell is going on up there? Roy!"
51's crew was diving for cover as a second shot was fired. They didn't see Johnny's lifeline cut in two, but heard his startled yell as he plunged into the water below. Each had assumed the dangling paramedic was safe, hidden within the hole.
Once they were safely behind Big Red, the five firemen looked at Daniel, who had fled from the well and now huddled with them.
"Who's shooting at us?" Hank asked, reaching for his walkie-talkie in his turnout coat pocket.
Daniel didn't answer. Fascinated, he watched as Mike snaked a rope through the rim of the engine's big front tire, then tied it off. Roy fastened his harness on, securing the rope to the figure eight ring on the leather belt.
"Roy, it's too much of a risk," Hank said, knowing without being told what the older paramedic was about to do.
"He could be hurt down there, Cap. Daniel, is your father really down there?" Roy turned to the teenager and was startled a devious grin plastered on the boy's face. "Daniel, I asked you a question. Is that your father down in the well or is he in the barn shooting at us?" Roy's voice rose in anger and frustration.
Captain Stanley reported that they were under fire and requested assistance from the Sheriff's office. His mind then turned to devise a plan to enable Roy to safely descend into the well. "Chet, you and Marco grab a hose. Aim it at the loft door. Roy, you won't have long, so when they start spraying, get down into the well. The Sheriff's office should be here before you're ready to come up."
"Dad! Watch…" Daniel's attempt to alert his father was cut short when Mike clamped his hand over the youth's mouth.
Mike used his other arm to pull Daniel to him, preventing Daniel from escaping.
"I'll get the pump, Mike. You take care of our young friend here," Stanley said just as more shots rang out from the barn.
Mike released his hold over Daniel's mouth ready to clamp it shut again if the need arose. "You do realize that your father is shooting at you, too?" It was more a statement and less of a question. "Why is he shooting at us?"
Daniel watched as the two firemen inundated the loft of the barn with thousands of gallons of water. Roy disappeared over the edge of the well as the wall of water provided him with a shield against the flying lead.
Lost in his own thoughts, Daniel watched Roy disappear into the well. "The devil should have died in the fire, but he didn't. Why is he going to go save that heathen? He killed my mother. If it hadn't been for him, she would…"
"If it hadn't been for him, she would still be dead!" Mike shouted in an effort to get through to the confused boy. "She was burned so badly her body couldn't fight back. Johnny and Roy did their best to save her, but they couldn't." When Mike didn't get an answer from the boy, he tried another tactic, his brain remembering the fire at Johnny's apartment. "Why doesn't he go after the doctors at the hospital? Or even the ambulance attendants?"
"But my father said she died because he touched her. He's different from us!" Daniel shouted back. "My dad says he's a devil! That's why he didn't die when his apartment caught on fire. He took my mother's soul."
Ignorance had long been the leading cause of death in Los Angeles and in the rest of the country. Neither Mike nor the rest of the crew had ever understood the prejudice of others. Marco and Johnny had been the targets of several threats because of their heritage, but both had always seemed to bounce back.
"He's a man, Daniel," Hank said. He sat beside them as Chet and Marco took cover behind the engine now that Roy was safely over the side of the well. "He bleeds like you and me. Yeah, his beliefs are different, but either way, he's a man. Not a devil."
Marco put his hand on Daniel's shoulder. "Am I different?" He hoped that the connection he'd felt to the boy from a month ago still held.
Daniel met the soft brown eyes of the Hispanic fireman. The fireman who had befriended him in his time of need so many weeks ago. Abraham's words came back to him, about separating the sheep and goats. Keeping their heritage pure because anyone that was different were devils and mean. "No, he can't be wrong," he backed up. Oblivious to the renewed gunfire, Daniel pulled away from Marco and into the path of a bullet.
"DANIEL!" the shouted words were filled with pain. Taking a look through the rear passenger window, Captain Stanley watched as Abraham slid down the rope from the barn's loft.
As Roy rappelled down, he listened intently for any sound from Johnny. He was met with silence, unable to hear even a moan. Roy sent up a silent prayer that Johnny was still alive.
The light dimmed on his descent, but his eyes adjusted to the decreasing light. He forced his mind to stay on the job ahead, rather than conjuring up pictures of Johnny lying broken at the bottom of the well, or face down in the water.
Roy was thankful to land on dry ground. That meant the well held only pockets of water. One step and his toe met soft flesh as he stepped on something uneven with the well floor.
"Argh," a moan, low and drawn out. Roy stepped back and kneeled down.
Roy groped along the floor for the source of the sound. His hand met Johnny's legs. One was bent at an awkward angle, and trapped beneath the other leg. Roy moved up the legs, gently probing Johnny's abdomen. He withdrew his hands when his partner hissed and tried to push the offending hands away. "Okay, just lie still," Roy soothed, wondering if Johnny knew what was going on.
Johnny's body wasn't lying flat with the floor, instead, his chest sloped uphill then evened out again. Roy reached beneath Johnny and felt another mass that he identified as a human chest. There was no movement from the second victim. As he pulled his hand back, a pin pricked his finger. Roy felt for the object that had pricked him. Memories of dressing in the dark made him realize the object was a badge, one slightly larger than the one on his own uniform. Even without seeing it, he knew the badge belonged to a police officer.
Johnny moaned and Roy turned back to his job. "Johnny, I need you to tell me where you hurt, okay?"
"All-all over."
Roy checked the carotid pulse at Johnny's throat. "Come on, Junior. I know you can do better than that. Talk to me," he encouraged, wanting to keep his friend awake.
"Engine 51 to HT 51. Roy can you hear me?" Captain Stanley asked. Roy heard the anguished cries in the background. He had know idea that the cry came from Abraham, who was watching as Marco and Chet administered first aid to Daniel.
Roy pulled out the HT.. "Cap, I need the Stokes. Johnny's pulse is thready. There isn't enough light down here for me to assess him." Roy paused, listening as his patient's breathing quickened. "Cap, there's another body down here. I think it's a police officer. It broke Johnny's fall."
Vince Howard handcuffed Abraham, arresting him for attempted murder. He heard Roy's transmission and stiffened.
Seeing the officer pause, Chet placed a hand on Vince's shoulder. "You okay, Vince?"
"Peterson was supposed to respond out here with you. He didn't call in that he was on the scene, but we didn't worry. He's known for forgetting to call in." Vince pulled Abraham toward his car, reciting the Miranda warning as he went.
Mike and Hank lowered the Stokes and a large flashlight into the hole. The light was on, allowing Roy to follow the basket's progress down.
"Roy," Johnny's voice was weak. "He's dead, isn't he?" He felt the face next to his and knew the answer. The semi-soft landing had prevented instant death. Johnny was thankful for that and wished the dead man's spirit on a swift journey.
The Stokes came down slowly, taking Roy's mind off of the question. He removed the cervical collar that Mike had strapped in it. Taking the collar, Roy put it around Johnny's neck, securing it with the velcro fasteners, then maneuvered the basket over to Johnny's side. Roy tipped the basket, then carefully helped Johnny turn over, placing the basket up against his back. "Okay, Junior, just lean back as I lower the basket," Roy instructed.
Johnny bit his lip against the pain as he was tipped over and gravity pulled him into the basket. The worst pain came from his leg as the broken ends of bones rubbed against each other sending a trail of fire up through muscles and tendons to his brain.
Roy secured John in the basket, then bent to pick up John's helmet, which was illuminated by the flashlight.
"Okay, pull him up!" Roy shouted into his radio.
Getting the word, Captain Stanley signaled to Chet and Marco who pulled up the basket. When John was settled on the ground, Stanley lifted the HT. "HT 51, we're going to need you topside. We'll pull you up next with the basket." Hank watched as Chet and Marco eased John out of the Stokes. Marco then took the basket back to the well and slowly lowered it back into the hole. "Roy, you going to need any help with getting the other victim out?"
Roy shined the flashlight around. "No, Cap. It's pretty narrow down here, I don't think two people could work in here. From what I can tell, he's been dead for at least five hours."
An ambulance waited while Chet put a splint on Johnny's arm. Daniel had already been loaded into the van. He'd been lucky, the bullet had gone through his shoulder, exiting through his back. He was sitting upright on the bench that ran the length of the ambulance from side door to rear door, a sling held his arm.
Roy finally called up to Stanley. Marco and Mike pulled on the ropes, bringing the body and Roy to the top. Roy appeared first and was pulled over the side, forgetting Daniel's earlier statement about the rock wall not being stable. It held his weight and as the basket came up, it held under the pressure of the four sets of hands pulling it out of the well.
They carried the basket to the squad, drapping a sheet over the body while Roy ran to Johnny who was on the ambulance cot. "Chet, I need the biophone. Marco, get me the trauma box," Roy issued the commands, never thinking that they would go unheeded.
Vince came up to Roy, needing to hear the news of the officer still at the bottom of the well.
"He didn't make it," Roy offered then turned to Johnny. Day light showed the open skin and protruding bones of a compound fracture at the thigh. It also showed the dirt encrusting the haggard face. Roy picked up the handset of the biophone that Chet had brought him. "Squad 51 to Rampart. How do you read?"
"Go ahead, 51," Doctor Brackett replied, from the base station at Rampart.
"Rampart, we have two victims. Victim number one is approximately sixteen. He's been shot in the," Roy looked to Marco who had written down Daniel's injury and vital signs from their earlier assessment. "Left shoulder. Vital signs are…bp 112/76, heart rate 72 and respirations 20. We've splinted the arm, there is a strong radial pulse, the bleeding is controlled. Victim two is 28 years old and fell about seventy feet into a empty well. We've applied a cervical collar. He has movement and feeling to all extremities. He has a compound fracture of his right femur and possible concussion. There are several lacerations to his head. I've applied bandages to all open wounds. His vital signs are bp 100/58, pulse 124, respirations 24."
Kelly Brackett wrote all the information down, then sighed as he looked over his short hand. Pressing the button on the radio, he gave his orders. "51, on victim one, is he in any pain?"
Roy glanced up into the ambulance. "Negative, Rampart."
"Okay, then start an IV of normal saline on victim two. Apply oxygen at two liters. Give four milligrams morphine IV and apply a Hare Traction to the affected leg. Monitor his vitals closely and transport both as soon as possible."
Repeating the orders back, Roy watched as Marco and Chet set up for the IV and Captain Stanley went for the traction splint. After all the years they had been working together, the men of Big Red had learned what equipment to use and when.