Still alarm

It's late on a Friday night. My partner and I are headed back to station for our end-of-shift. We're downtown, stuck in the traffic that's headed to the bars and clubs. My partner is new. She's in her 40's, and just graduated a couple of months prior. She has yet to take a real call, they've been having her run nonsense calls for the past month to 'prepare' her for taking some legitimate ones. She tells me she feels incompetent, unsure of her skills and doesn't remember how to use a traction splint, has never seen a KED and probably couldn't bag a patient at the right rate if needed. I assure her that I'll help her with everything. I tell her she can call me or e-mail me on the weekends if she wants help. She takes my phone number and e-mail address down and is about to tuck it in her clipboard when an awful screeching/crunching whips both of our heads to the right.

I see a compact car wrapped around a road sign. It's completely smashed in on the driver's side. I see a large U-haul type truck pulling over. It appears that the U-haul was attempting to change lanes and, instead, t-boned the small car and shoved it against the pole. I flip on the lights, chirp the sirens and pull over alongside the compact, blocking traffic from hitting it any further. I grab the radio.

"Dispatch, unit 107, one-zero-seven, we have a still alarm TC on X highway, southbound side right before exit 1. 2 patients, we need fire. Roll highway patrol, please."

"107, confirming that's X highway northbound right before exit 1?"

"Dispatch, that's a negative. X highway, southbound side please. Southbound side before exit 1. Please roll fire, no access to patient at this time."

"Copy 107, they're on their way."

My flustered partner is anxiously trying to talk to the woman in the compact car. The driver of the truck is standing nearby, wringing his hands and apologizing. I approach the small car, now unconcerned about the truck driver as he appears to be fine.

"Ma'am? How are you doing? Do you have any pain anywhere?" I turn to my partner and tell her to go speak to the truck driver.

"Yes, my neck hurts and my nose is bleeding. Thank God you guys were right there, did you see him hit me?!"

"I'm sorry, ma'am. We're going to get you out of here, okay? I've got some more help on the way. Just sit tight for a few minutes and try not to move your head around too much, okay? Can you feel your toes?"

She nods and wiggles her feet to prove it.

"Great, just hang on, okay?"

I see the truck driver walking towards me, and I hold my hand up to him. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to stand back, alright? My partner will help you if you're hurt, but you need to stay away from this car, okay?"

He nods his head and stops. I hear him ask if the woman is alright, my partner assures him that we're helping her. I look up in time to see the 2 fire engines and a squad car pass us on the northbound side of the highway. I grab my radio again.

"DISPATCH, this is ONE-ZERO-SEVEN, confirming we are on the SOUTHBOUND side of the highway, please ask fire and police to reroute to the SOUTHBOUND SIDE right before exit 1!"

"107, you are NOT on the northbound?"

Goddamnit.

"107, NEGATIVE we are on the SOUTHBOUND! We need some help over here, I can't gain access to our patient, please notify fire and police to turn around!"

"Copy that."

I go back to the woman in the car. She's crying and tells me she's scared, that her nose hurts real bad and it might be broken.

"I need you to do me a favor, okay? I need you to turn your car off and leave it off. The fire department is coming, they should be here in a minute and we're going to get you out, alright? Listen to me. You're going to be fine... Stacey! Come here for a second." I manage to wedge the window down low enough to slap a neck collar on her while my partner holds her head still manually. She walks back over to the man while I continue trying to assess the woman's injuries.

I hear another screeching noise and look up in time to see the truck drive off, my partner screaming after it. She runs back over to me.

"He took off! I asked if there was anyone else in the car with him and he said no, then told me he needed to check on his wife and took off! I tried to get his plate number, but he didn't have any. Shit!"

"Hey, don't worry about it. We need to focus on her right now. Keep talking to her, tell her to hold her head still."

I grab the radio again and chirp it quickly.

"107, one-zero-seven I've got some emergency traffic."

"All units stand down, 107 go with traffic."

"107, the driver of one of the vehicles has left the scene. Please notify police that this is a hit-and-run and give description of a white U-haul type truck with NO license plates. Driver is a white male in his 40's, short brown hair and mustache. Last scene exiting X highway south at exit 1."

"107, copy that, I'll notify police."

The fire engine screeches up and I breathe a sigh of relief. The big engines are a blessing in highway accidents because they are like huge barricades, blocking us from getting hit by traffic. An older firefighter approaches me and asks for a rundown on the situation.

"We were sitting here in traffic, heard a crunch, looked up and this car was wrapped around this pole. Truck was trying to change lanes and t-boned her up against the road sign. He stopped at first, but just took off a minute ago. Woman in the car looks alright. Her nose is bleeding and her neck hurts but she's got sensation everywhere. Managed to get her in a C-collar. Windshield is spidered, she probably hit her head. No access right now."

"Awesome. We'll get the jaws out. How ya doin'?"

".....Huh?"

He chuckled and repeated himself.

"How are YOU doing?"

"Oh, heh, I'm okay. Been a long day, rookie partner. Poor thing, she's about ready to shit herself."

"Ha, yea I know the feeling. We got it from here, okay? Go back, get some rest. And thanks, you did a good job kid."

"Thanks, chief."

By now I can hear the jaws of life rumbling and glass shattering. They've got their access now, so we clear from the scene and go back to station.

"Can you BELIEVE that guy just LEFT?!" My partner exclaims as we pull up to station.

"Yea, I can. At least he made sure she wasn't dead before he took off. Most people don't even do that."

"Oh my GOD! That's just... I can't even believe that!"

"Yea, well. You'll see alot worse in your time, I promise."

And I'm sure she will. Those poor rookies, I always feel bad for them. They come in all bright-eyed, with the hopes and dreams that they're going to rescue little babies and return them to their grateful mothers and so on and so forth. In reality, there are good days and bad days, but we have no control over what happens in the end. We got lucky on this one, the lady wasn't hurt too bad, and the idiot truck driver was completely unharmed. But not all calls run like that. Sometimes there is nothing we can do, and other times, we do everything we can and it still doesn't help.

I go inside to my dispatcher and ask for an update on the call.

"Last I heard, they still haven't found the guy who hit her. Patient's okay though. She's got a broken nose and a couple stitches in her forehead, but no neck injuries. She'll be fine. Good job."

"Aw, I didn't do anything. I couldn't even get to her! Damn door was so smashed in and the other side wrapped around that pole!"

"Hey, well, you did enough and she's gonna be alright. Fire said to thank you, and told me to let you get some rest."

"Heh, sounds good to me. Have a good night."

"You too, kid. Thanks for your help tonight."

Yea, no problem. You're welcome, as always.

Over and out-

the PSYCH wrangler

Nightmare

I was woken up this morning by the sound of my own screams. It startled me, I was drenched in sweat with tears streaming down my face. Still shaking, I looked around my living room, where I had fallen asleep, for signs that it might have been real. It wasn't.
It was vivid, I had been in my kitchen doing dishes and heard the front door open. When I looked up, I saw the face of a boy our crew picked up last summer. A 14 year old kid who had attempted suicide by putting a gun to his chin. He didn't succeed. In the dream, his face had been haphazardly stapled back together. I pleaded with him to not hurt me, but he continued his advance, laughing. I stumble back and hear a shrill cry. Behind me, a baby that hadn't made it when her mother's placenta ruptured enroute to the hospital was lying blue on the ground. I scoop it up and try to get away from the boy, while trying to give the baby mouth-to-mouth. As I run towards the balcony, a hand latches onto my arm. Its the woman who died of liver cancer, the yellow, moaning woman. She's holding me where I stand and awkwardly stumbling closer to me. A fire starts in the kitchen. They're all laughing at me now, the fire gets bigger and I'm trapped. I can see a man outside, for some reason his presence is comforting even though I don't recognize him. I keep thinking that if I could just get to him, it might be okay. He reaches for me despite the huge distance between us but flames surround me and he disappears. I scream.
I wake up.