Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Kate
Vaughn is gone.
He’s gone, and it’s my fault we left on such horrible terms.
I couldn’t bear to watch as Dex came to pick him up to take him to the airport the morning after our fight. In the week since, Gus has made it his mission to keep me updated on all things Vaughn.
“Vaughn said his flight was long, but he got there safe.”
I made an excuse and left the room.
“Vaughn made the best breakfast casserole. You should get some before I eat it all.”
I declined on principle.
“Vaughn’s made some arrangements with a local 4-H club to help with the farm and take care of Yankee. High school program that gives kids the opportunity to volunteer.”
I turned up the volume on the movie we were watching.
“Vaughn’s got me in touch with the local bee club. I’m gonna need a ride to my first meeting next week.”
I nodded and added it to our calendar.
I stoically acknowledge every time Gus mentions his name, because it’s not Gus’s fault that my heart is broken. Then I cry myself to sleep every night.
“Yo, needle-pusher. Glad to have you back,” Cal calls as I enter the station.
It’s my first shift of doing ride-alongs, where I go on every call to observe and assist where I’m comfortable.
Unfortunately, it’s a twenty-four-hour shift, and I had to make Gus promise he wouldn’t fall into his old ways when I wasn’t there to take care of him.
“I got invited to a Public Safety Foundation thing,” he told me. “I’m gonna go check that out. I promise I’ll be fine, Katie.”
For his part, Gus is a different man. Since his heart scare, he’s turned over a new leaf. He’s walking and eating well and even trying to be more active with the community, hence the Public Safety Foundation meeting. Bonus, he doesn’t grumble nearly as much as he used to.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s finally healing from his past and looking forward to life. He misses Vaughn, but since they’re still on speaking terms, everything in Gus’s life is hunky-dory.
Me? I’m stuck in the endless spiral of heartache.
“You ready for this?” Jackson claps me on the back like I’m one of the boys, bringing me back to the present.
“I guess. Hopefully, it’ll be a quiet night.”
Jackson gives me finger guns as Cal groans, “Fuckin’ hell. You just jinxed us like a total noob. I expected better from you.”
He’s not wrong, and I know better than to test the public safety gods, but they seem to be ignoring us for the most part.
I catch myself getting up a few times when the medic unit gets toned out.
It’s instinct to jump up when Leo moves, but after the first time his new partner nearly plows me over, I remind myself the medic calls aren’t mine anymore.
The realization of how much more they get toned out is striking. “I guess I didn’t realize how many more medical calls there are,” I say as I follow Jackson to the rescue truck.
“Yeah, we come back to the station quicker or get canceled altogether. But those medics, they work their asses off.” He grins at me. “Welcome to the fun side of the job.”
Jackson is just crazy enough to think that running into a burning building is fun.
I’m finally relaxing in my bunk at nearly one in the morning when tones drop. “Dammit, Kate,” Cal yells before the 911 operator even finishes dispatching us to a multivehicle accident.
The flashing red lights still bounce off the quiet buildings. The siren still blares loudly in my head. The difference in this call? I know I’ll be in the thick of things with the guys rescuing the crash victims, rather than prepping my ambulance.
I hide my shaking hands under my thighs and focus on my breathing. This is what I wanted. To be more involved.
I’m ready. I’ve trained for this.
When we arrive on scene, there’s a pickup truck in a ditch. It’s upright, but the roof on the driver’s side is crushed, indicating a roll. A small electric car stands in the middle of the road, looking like a squished matchbox car. Two bystanders hover nearby, hugging themselves.
“Jesus Christ,” I say on an exhale. How did anyone survive that?
“Let’s go, Kate. What’s the first step?” Cal says, talking me down from a freak-out. My bunker gear feels bulky and unmanageable as I climb out of the rescue truck, but I pull on my protective coat and secure my helmet.
“Check the critical situation.”
“Right. Grab the jump bag and let’s get moving.”
The weight of the familiar bag, housing the supplies I’ve used for years, helps settle my nerves some as I haul it out and hurry after Cal. Just because I’ve never been in a rescue situation doesn’t mean I don’t have the skills needed to get the job done.
“Okay, tell me what you see.” Cal coaches me through each step as clarity rushes back to me.
The occupant of the smart car is broken beyond all comprehension. “Possibly a female, obvious neck fracture.” There is nothing we can do to help this person.
“Right. Obvious DOA,” he calls to Jackson, who’s finished securing the brake bumpers under the rescue truck. To me, he says, “What’s the next step?”
“We check the next patient,” I say, hurrying to the crumpled truck. The driver’s side is crushed at the windshield, but inside the vehicle is a woman partially covered by an airbag, encased in a small pocket.
“Intrusion on A post,” I say, before he has a chance to ask for my assessment.
“We need the Jaws,” Cal yells to Jackson. “Good job.”
I squat to get a better view of the interior of the vehicle. “Cal, the passenger-side door is open.”
“It was toned out as a single occupant.” He halts my panic spiral before it can even start. But to be sure, I approach the bystanders and ask them if they know if anyone else was in the vehicle.
“No. Just my friend. We were following her home from a late movie. It happened so fast. The car just pulled right out in front of her. She tried to dodge, but…” The young woman covers her mouth as she turns to the guy next to her.
“We’re gonna take good care of her. Please stand back,” I ask, donning a mask of confidence I don’t exactly feel yet.
I tug my helmet and straighten my jacket as I rejoin Cal and Jackson.
The added weight of my gear is foreign and might take a minute to get used to.
I feel clunky, even though I did my skills test wearing the same gear.
On scene, I’m used to tactical uniform pants and a polo shirt.
These bulky pants and cumbersome boots make it feel like I’m moving in slow motion.
Another engine has arrived, and their crew has joined mine at the driver’s side, working out their extrication plan.
“Kate, see if you can gain access and start initial patient assessment from the passenger side,” Jackson calls.
I’m grateful for the task. Although my patients are usually already extricated, assessment is something I’m familiar with.
The Jaws roars to life by the engine as I round the truck bed. The other crew prepping to get the woman out safely. I hurry, picking my way through the debris-strewn ditch to the open door.
It’s awkward as all hell trying to maneuver my way from the ground to the step rail of the truck in my bunker gear. Damn short legs.
Once I have a visual, I call to my crew. “She’s too far away for assessment. I’ll have to crawl in to get close enough to check her vitals.”
I pitch the bag off my shoulder into the empty passenger seat.
The dashboard explodes.
* * *
“Kate!”
My name is muffled in the fog that clouds my brain. Someone is calling my name, and hands are on my neck, as if to stabilize me.
“Kate!”
Jackson. It’s Jackson’s voice calling my name, sounding worried.
“Fuuucck,” I groan, trying to force my eyes open. It feels like a hundred-pound weight sits on my chest, and I’m having trouble moving my arms enough to get it off.
Cal lets out a string of relieved curses. I drag my gaze in the direction of his voice. He’s kneeling beside me, ripping open my bunker coat. “Don’t move.”
“What happened?” I try to turn my head.
“Don’t move,” Jackson barks, and his hands lock around my neck like concrete.
Cal sits back on his heels. “You tripped the airbag. Blew you out of the car.”
“When I dropped the medic bag in the seat,” I realize out loud.
“Yep. Our mistake, we should’ve warned you.
I imagine you’ll be the reason it gets added to the training sessions in recruit class, though.
” He motions to someone else, then speaks into his radio.
In the background, the low hum of the Jaws shuts off.
Then it’s just the voices of my guys talking over each other, speaking to the other squad rescuing the woman from the vehicle.
And I’m lying flat on my back on my first scene as a firefighter.
“We’re gonna send you in to get checked out now,” Cal says as a backboard gets dropped next to me.
“This is humiliating,” I grumble. “I’m fine. Just a bit of a headache.”
“Kate, that airbag deploys at something like three hundred miles per hour. You need a CT scan and to be checked out.”
They package me onto the backboard and load me onto a stretcher. As Jackson pushes it into the bus and climbs in, he leans over me. “Payback for that time you took care of Cal. Let us take care of you.”
The medic crew is a team I don’t know very well, but they handle me with care and don’t make fun of me for fucking up my first big call. Jackson and Cal promise to meet me at the hospital, and once again, humiliation washes over me.
But I don’t cry. I just suck it up and let everyone do their job.
At the hospital, I’m run through a series of tests, and finally, once cleared by X-rays and scans, the CT collar comes off and I’m allowed to sit up. A knock raps on my door as the doctor finishes his update, and Chief Collins steps in.
“Hey there. Sorry it took me a minute to get to you. You were upstairs for testing when we got here. I take it the results were good news?”
I know he’s asking as my boss, but the way he watches me makes me think that maybe there’s real compassion behind the concern.
“Sorry to be an HR nightmare for you,” I say, trying to fight the embarrassment of failing on my first shift.