Later that day....
"Station 77, possible jumper. Central Apartments, Fuller Avenue,
cross-street Greenway. Time-out: 13:53."
"Let's go boys and girls!" Captain Durfee yelled. Everyone ran to their
respective vehicles and got in. Rescue 77 was the first to leave, with all
but Bell still pulling on their turnout coats and helmets.
"Doesn't Central Apartments have 10 floors or something?" Wick asked.
"Fourteen floors," Ryan said.
"Man, I hope this person's not on the top of the building."
"Aw, c'mon Wick, the exercise might do you some good," Crista teased.
"Hey! That was not funny!" he said, indignantly.
"Yeah it was," Bell snickered.
"Who's side are you on, man?"
"Sorry." Bell cleared his throat and hid his smile. Just then, they
pulled up in front of the apartment building. There was a crowd assembled
outside, staring up at a person on the ledge seven floors up. A man in a suit
and tie broke away from the crowd and walked over to Captain Durfee, who was
just getting out of the engine.
"Are you the landlord?" Durfee asked.
"Yeah," the man replied, nervously. He pointed up to the person. "There
she is. I don't know how long she's been up there. One of the tenants saw her
and told me, and I called you guys. Her parents are at work, and I can't
reach them."
"What's her name and how old is she?"
"Her name's Sandy, and she's 14, I think."
Captain Durfee walked over to the aerial. "Adams, see if you can get
closer and then get the ladder up there." He turned to the waiting
paramedics. "Bell, I want you up there first, to carry her back down if need
be. Stoker, you stay right behind him and talk the girl into coming down."
"Right, Cap," they replied. Adams pulled the truck closer to the
building, and Harris operated the ladder, extending it towards the building.
Bell and Stoker started to climb as soon as it had stopped moving. Closer to
the top, they slowed down and climbed carefully, making sure they didn't
startle the girl. She didn't appear to notice them; her eyes were fixed on
the ground. One eye was black-and-blue and swollen. She also had bruises on
her arms and legs.
"It's a long way down, isn't it?" she said quietly.
"Yeah, it is. What's your name?" Crista asked gently.
"Sandy Lewis," the girl replied.
"Well, how about you let us help you get down from there, Sandy?"
"No, I don't want to go down."
"Why not?"
"Because I just don't want to," she said, agitated.
"No one's going to hurt you down there. We can help you, if you let us.
We'll make sure no one hits you ever again."
Sandy looked uncertain. They both could see she wanted to trust them, but
was too afraid. Finally, she looked at Crista and nodded her head. "I'll come
down if you promise not to let my stepfather hit me ever again."
"I promise. Now, step over to us and my partner will carry you down,"she
instructed. Sandy did as told, and Bell balanced her carefully over his
shoulder. The climb down took almost twice as long as going up, but soon they
were on the ground. The spectators clapped their hands and cheered. Bell set
the girl down and Ryan took her over to the R.A. to treat her wounds.
"Nice job, you two," Durfee said.
"Thanks Cap," Bell replied. "We're gonna take her to the hospital to get
checked out, then I guess child services will take over. Her stepfather beat
her."
"Poor kid." He shook his head.
Crista walked over to where Ryan was treating the girl and knelt down.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Better."
"Good. We're going to take you to the hospital so they can check you out
and see if we missed anything. Why does your mother allow him to do this to
you?"
"She's afraid of him. He hits her, too."
"Well, he won't do it anymore."
"Thank you," Sandy said, tears brimming in her eyes.
"No problem, kid." Crista replied, smiling.
~*~
Rescue 77 arrived back at the station in time for dinner. Much to
everyone's dismay, it was Bridges' turn to cook. He had just set the last
dish on the table when they walked in.
"The probie gets to sit with us," Sanchez said. Crista looked at the
others and shrugged her shoulders.
"Check your chair," Ryan warned, sitting down at the 'medic's table.
"Oh ye of little faith." Sanchez pulled out a chair for Crista. She
checked it carefully and then sat down. Bridges began passing around the
food. The main dish looked something like chicken, but no one was totally
sure. It didn't take long and then they were ready to eat. Most started with
the 'chicken'. Their faces turned bright red as they chewed and
simultaneously, everyone started coughing and choking. Silverware was sent
flying and salt-and-pepper shakers were knocked out of the way in an attempt
to grab their water glasses. Bridges was the only one not choking on his
food.
"What-" Captain Durfee gasped, "-was that?!"
"Jalapeno chicken curls," Bridges replied innocently. A series of groans
followed.
"Warn us next time," Bell gasped. Before Bridges had a chance to defend
his chicken curls, the station's alarm went off.
"Station 77, respond to car accident. Intersection of Windgap and Forest.
Time-out: 17:46."
"Let's roll, people," Durfee said, jumping up. The others followed suit
and soon they had left the station, with the R.A. in front.
"Does he always make stuff like that?" Crista asked.
"Well, he's never tried to burn our mouths up before," Ryan started.
"And his culinary skills leave a lot of room for improvement, but other
than that, no, his food isn't usually edible," Bell finished.
"Oh, great. Very reassuring," Crista replied. "There's the accident."
"Two cars. It doesn't look too bad," Bell said as he parked the R.A. He
jumped out and checked the first car. The driver was still inside.
"Are you hurt?" Bell asked.
"No, I just can't get out. My leg is pinned," he replied.
"Okay. We'll get you out in a minute." Bell ran over to the captain.
"Cap, the guy in the car isn't hurt, but he can't get out. His leg is
pinned under something."
At the other car, a large black van on it's side, Ryan was speaking with
a police officer while Crista and Wick were on top, prying the door open.
"I've been chasing him for about 6 blocks. He was speeding and when he
saw me, he took off. Came around the corner there and flipped it, then hit
the other car."
"We got the door!" Wick called down to Ryan.
"What do you need?" she asked. "Not sure yet, hold on a minute."
Crista disappeared inside. A minute later, she pulled herself back out.
"He's pinned behind the steering wheel just enough to prevent him from
getting out. Leg's broken too, I think. We need a splint, backboard and
c-collar."
"Got it. I'll go tell Cap that we have a man trapped." Ryan ran over to
the R.A. and got the needed supplies. Captain Durfee saw her and walked over.
"What've you got over there?" he asked, indicating the van.
"A man is stuck behind the wheel. He's not too badly injured, just can't
get out."
"Turner! Get the Jaws and go help get the driver of the van out!" he
called.
"Right, Cap," came the reply. Turner got the Jaws from the ladder truck
and followed Ryan over to the van. They started it up and handed it up to
Wick.
"Look out!" someone yelled. There was a small explosion and then the back
of the van was on fire. There was more smoke than anything else. Sanchez and
Bridges pulled out the hose and started dousing the flames.
"How's it coming?" Durfee called to Wick. He stuck his head out of the
door.
"We almost have him out!" he shouted in response. The noise of the Jaws
and the hose was making it difficult to hear.
"Turner, go get the ax so we can get the back of this thing open and get
those flames out!"
Turner, who was on the other side of the van, nodded his head and jogged
past Sanchez and Bridges.
"Turner!" Bridges yelled.
"Huh?"
"The engine's that way!" Bridges pointed over his left shoulder.
"Oh, right," Turner replied. He came back a minute or two later carrying
the ax. He raised it above his head, then set it back down and stared at it.
"What was I supposed to do with this thing?"
"Uh..." Sanchez replied. He looked back at Bridges who shrugged his
shoulders. Carla ran over from the other car and grabbed the ax out of
Turner's hands. Before turning to the back of the van, she noted that the
guys' eyes were glassy. She had her airmask on so the smoke wasn't affecting
her. Carla hacked through the door of the van. It took a while, but finally
she was able to get it open. Hundreds of small bags of a dark green plant
fell out. The police officer who had been chasing the van walked over.
"Get those three out of here and get some guys with airmasks to take
over," he instructed Carla. She dropped the ax and took the hose from
Sanchez. She shut it off, then pushed all three of them away from the van and
over to the R.A. Bell was already there, treating the man from the car.
"You better put these guys on O2," Carla said, then went back to the van
to put the fire out. Adams joined her and they soon had the flames
extinguished, but the smoke was still in the air. Crista and Wick had finally
extricated the driver of the van and were now bringing him down. Ryan and
Wick carried the backboard, and Crista carried the equipment. Bridges,
Sanchez, and Turner were sprawled on the ground by the R.A. with their
airmasks on. The three paramedics who were at the van soon joined them,
leaving Bell (the only one who wasn't high) with the care of the driver.
"Dude, I feel weird," Wick muttered. Carla brought their airmasks over
and dropped them.
"Put these on," she instructed. They did as told.
"Oh, my head," Turner groaned. "What was in there?"
"Marijuana," Carla replied.
"You're joking, right?" Crista asked, raising her head, but keeping the
airmask in place.
"I wish I was. Congratulations everyone, you are officially high. Cap
wants you all to go in to the hospital to get checked out."
"I feel fine," Ryan said, getting up.
"Good. You ride in the back and keep an eye on your patients." Durfee
ordered, walking up to them.
"Lobo, Stoker, how are you two feeling?"
"Better," they replied.
"Hey Cap," Bell called. "City base said Sanchez, Bridges, and Turner
don't have to come in. They weren't exposed to it long enough."
"I hate hospitals anyway," Sanchez mumbled. He pushed the airmask away.
"Somebody help me up."
Crista rolled her eyes and stood, then she grabbed his hand and pulled.
Seconds later she found herself pinned between Sanchez and the R.A. Their
faces were only inches from each other.
"This wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but it'll do," he grinned. She
rolled her eyes again.
"You do realize that there's about 15 people staring at us, don't you?
And you're on the outside." Sanchez glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough,
most of the firefighters were looking at them.
"Oops." He stepped back, and she squeezed past. Crista pulled herself up
into the back of the R.A. to hide. If anyone saw her blushing like she knew
she was, they'd never let her live it down. Ryan climbed in after her and
Wick shut the doors.
"What was that all about?" Ryan asked.
"What? I just helped him up and pulled a little to hard... no big deal...
and stop looking at me like that!" she exclaimed in exasperation.
"Like what?" Ryan asked, innocently. She turned to the van driver and
checked his vitals. Crista checked on the driver of the car. He had a small
bump on the head, but other than that, no injuries. At the hospital, the
doctors took over the care of the two men.
"Lucky us, it's paperwork time," Ryan said, picking up the papers.
"I need a drink first," Wick muttered.
"My mouth is still on fire," Bell added. Crista saw the water fountain
first and got a drink. After about two minutes, Bell shoved her out of the
way.
"Hey! I wasn't done!"
"Fighting over the water fountain... how constructive," Megan commented,
walking up to them.
"You would be too if you sampled Bridges' last creation," Wick grumbled.
"Ohhhh, okay." Megan pulled something out of her coat pocket.
"Someone left this for you, Crista." She handed her an envelope.
"Thanks," Cris replied vaguely. She took it and opened it.
"What is it?" Bell asked.
"A note from Mr. Davidson thanking me for helping his daughter." She made
a face. "He still gives me the creeps."
