24 HOURS

These good fellows don't belong to me, but I promise when I'm done to pick um up, dust um off, and with a kiss on the cheek, return them safely home.

Men talk of killing time, while time quietly kills them. ~Dion Boucicault

A/N: Thank you so much for continuing to read with me! I appreciate all your notes. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Let me know your thoughts.

Chapter Four

A Road Divided

0500

Mike turned down the blaring music as Chet continued his nonstop banter since leaving Carson behind them.

"How far to the next turn?" Mike asked him, trying to distract him from his dissertation on why the fast-food biscuit did not meet his grandmother's standards.

"Looks like another ten miles, at least." He pushed the map over to the empty seat between the men. "How in the world did Johnny find this place. We're headed to the middle of nowhere."

Mike gave a little shrug. "Johnny likes his middle of nowhere places."

Chet smiled. "Well, he's not steered us wrong before. Guess I can't complain."

"I'm sure you can."

Chet narrowed his brow. "Funny." Looking out the side window, he watched the rainfall for a few minutes. "You think Roy can talk him out of it?"

Of course, he knew what the man was referring too. They had all felt the after-effects of the terrible shift even if no one spoke of it. Everyone had all been impacted by what they saw and even more so, how it affected their friends. No one had actually said the word 'quit,' but they also had never seen their younger medic and friend as distraught over a rescue gone wrong before.

"We just need some downtime is all."

Chet looked over to him. Personally, he wasn't so sure, and it was a feeling that he was having trouble shaking off. "Yea, I guess so."

"Mountains, fresh air, endless fishing? Works wonders," Mike said with a smile of encouragement.

No one at the station had wanted to talk about the run, though it was clear the feelings were running deep as each processed the tragedy that had occurred. There was no question that it had affected the medics, but he knew well that everyone was upset to some degree, even Chet.

"I mean, I don't have any kids, but can you imagine?" Chet asked to no one in particular, staring out the side window.

A part of Mike wanted to answer the question. No, he could never imagine. The other part needed to shut it down and change the subject, feeling how close to home it was hitting him. All he did was hope that Johnny and Roy's close friendship would allow them to get each other through it, with no one walking out of the job. However, deep down, he was more concerned with Roy's silence than Johnny's irritability.

Having turned off the main road, the two drove in quiet until they reached their first sign of civilization of the past.

"Well, that's not creepy," Chet said, pointing to the building, and struggled with the map a bit more.

"What are you doing?"

Chet turned it around a couple of more directions before finally folding it into something more reasonable to handle. "Don't worry about me. I've got this under control."

Mike's brow raised a bit. "If you say so. But I know where we're going."

Chet tried to resist grumbling. Mike's weirdly accurate inner sense of location was annoying most of the time on the job. He really hated it off shift. "Well, I don't know how. We've never even been here before."

The smallest of smiles graced his lips, knowing Johnny's detailed directions were entrenched into his memory. The sun was finally coming up, although the dark clouds were still lingering with some persistent showers.

"I sure hope this clears up soon," Mike said.

Chet smacked his arm. "Fishing in the rain is the best fishing of all."

Mike glared at the smiling man beside him.

"Oh, come on Mike, what could go wrong today?" He patted the door frame. "This is going to be a great week off."

"What the…" Mike said as they came to a roadblock.

Hopping out, they met at the front of the truck and took in the massive rockslide that covered the entire road.

"Great. Is there another way around it?" Chet asked, grumpy with disrupted the plans.

Mike reached into the truck and pulled out the map, making Chet chuckle.

"Shut up."

Chet just grinned. "Well? Can we go around it?"

He nodded, using his finger to trace a service road. "It's out of the way, but we could see if it's still open." Looking up at the slide, he shook his head. "It will take us a couple of hours to dig through this anyway."

Chet hopped back into the truck. "Let's do it."

Joining the lineman, Mike climbed in behind the wheel and hesitated.

"What?"

"You think this happened this morning?" He asked, Chet.

Chet shrugged. "Have no idea. Why?"

Mike put the truck in reverse. "Just wondering if Johnny and Roy managed to get past it."

"Probably was this morning. If they had driven the long way, they would have given us a heads up before we headed out." He looked at the alternate route on the map. "How long do you think this will take us?"

Mike shrugged. "At least an extra three hours."

Chet shook his head slowly. "Great."

"Johnny's not going to be happy," Mike mumbled.

Shoving the map onto the dash, he looked out the back window to help with staying on the slick road.

"He'll live."

Backing down the narrow road was slow going and tricky as the steady rainfall hindered their view. It took another twenty minutes to reach the fallen store parking lot. Mike pulled into it and paused.

"Pass me that map again."

Chet pushed it across the dash. "Why?"

Mike creased his brow. "I think there's a ranger station we passed not too far back. Might be worth it to check there first and see what roads are clear."

"We can call the cabin too," Chet offered. "Let um know we'll be late. They better not start without us, he grumbled.

Raising a brow, Mike glared at him. "Or what?"

"Or the Phantom is going to have an issue with Johnny next week."

"Just, Johnny?"

"Well, you know, the Phantom doesn't mess with seniority." Then his smile faded. "Or dads."

Mike just nodded his disheartened understanding and pulled back onto the main road.

0550

Turning off the main road, and down a roughly paved gravel drive, they wove through the tall evergreen trees until a small log cabin appeared in front of them. Exiting the truck, both stretched again, Chet moaning in the process.

"Come on, old man," Mike teased him.

With a smile, Chet jogged up the front porch before his counterpart and stood reading the sign. Looking back, he raised his brow.

"Open at eight."

"Great. I guess we just drive as far as we can and hope we don't get blocked again."

Chet peeked into the window. "Hey, someone's in there." He knocked on the door, waving at the figure to get their attention.

Slowly, the older man approached, unlocked the bolt and opened up for them. "Sorry, gentlemen. The gift shop doesn't open until eight."

"Actually, we were headed up to Westlin and found the pass blocked by a rock slide. We were just wondering if State Road 11 was open."

"Oh, come in then."

The older man appeared in his sixties, dressed in the traditional brown uniform of the forest rangers, his front badge stating his name as Pullman. He headed to his desk.

"I just arrived myself, and I've not even had a chance to look at all the road alerts yet. You boy's heading to Carter Lake?"

"Yes, Sir," Mike answered. "I'm Mike, and this is Chet. We're firemen with the LA County Fire Department."

The man smiled and reached out his hand, "Nice to you meet you, boys. I'm Al. Here, take a seat, and let's see what we can find out for you."

"We really appreciate this," Chet told him. "We're hoping to get some fishing in today."

Al smiled. "Oh, you'll do well up at the lake. It's a prime spot this time of year." He shifted through some papers that littered his desk. "That was a pretty strong storm that came through yesterday morning."

"Morning, you say?" Mike asked him.

"Yea, it was mostly blown over by lunch, just this leftover rainy mess. You say there was a slide somewhere?"

Mike nodded. "About twenty minutes down Westlake road, past the old store."

The man nodded. "I don't have anything on that one yet. But looks like 11 is marked as clear this morning."

That was a relief to the men. At least they had a passable road to take now.

Al pointed to their map. "If you cut off here at Minny's Farmer's Market, take a right, it will get you back to the main road quicker."

Chet smiled. "Thanks." His stomach growled. "Hey, anywhere around here that you recommend for some breakfast?"

"Chet," Mike looked at him, his brow just slightly narrowed.

Chet shrugged. "We already have a longer trip ahead of us, might as well start out with some breakfast."

Al chuckled. "Their breakfast is the best around, and the coffee will kick start your day." He stood up and looked out the side window. "When you get back to the main road, take a right and go," he hummed to himself for a second, "about five miles past your turn. It's a little none for nothing shack, called Teddy's. Looks like a wreck, but best food around here."

Mike nodded. "Thank you, Al, we really appreciate it." He glanced at the desk. "Would we be able to call our friends and make sure they made it there yesterday?"

"Of course, help yourself."

Mike picked up the phone and pulled out the little paper with directions and the number on it. Dialing, he leaned on the desk, watching Chet and Al discuss the large stuffed brown bear that stood just inside the little gift shop.

Hanging up, he wasn't happy. "No answer," he told Chet.

Chet just shrugged. "Their probably just up and packing the Rover for the day." He rubbed his growling stomach. "Let's get some food."

Mike just shook his head. With thanks and goodbyes said, they headed back to the main road one more time.

0645

Mike had to admit the plate of homemade breakfast in front of him looked better than he expected.

"Can I get you anything else, honey?"

Chet was already leaning in closer with a big smile before Mike could even answer her.

"Just a little top off on the coffee would be great, thank you," he leaned in to look at her name tag, "Sarah."

She smiled at them both. "My pleasure, sweetie."

"Kelly, really?"

"What?" He shrugged and started eating.

"She's at least ten years older than you."

Glancing back at her, he smiled again. "Six at most."

Mike just shook his head, making Chet chuckle.

"You need a girl. That's why your so uptight," Chet said, shaking a fork in his direction.

"Says who?" Mike tried to look annoyed.

Chet put on his insulted expression. "Me! Trust me, Mike, I know lots of ladies you could ask out."

"I'm busy that night," he said, pushing his food around the plate.

"Busy," Chet scoffed, then watched his friend. "What's wrong with you?"

Chet was shoveling in his eggs and bacon without pausing, while Mike just picked at his.

"Guess I'm just ready to get back on the road."

Chet wiped his mouth and leaned back in the booth seat. They'd worked together for enough years that he could read some of the engineer's moods, though not many. It was more difficult when your co-worker was so good at masking his emotions. Was it the shift? It was the quiet ones you had to worry about sometimes. Nah, Chet thought to himself. Mike tended to process things and then move on, never seemingly burdened with anguish. But there was something off about him right now.

"You think something's wrong?"

"No, I don't know that anything's wrong, but I would feel better to get in touch with them and let them know we'll be late."

Chet cocked his head to the side, watching the man intently. "You think something's wrong," he said seriously.

Mike looked up at him with a worried expression. "I think something's wrong."

Pushing his plate back, Chet signaled for the waitress. "To go? And we're ready for the check."

Picking up the empty place, she smiled at Chet. "Be right back, honey."

Chet watched the pretty young lady walk away.

"Chet."

He glanced back at Mike. "What? I'm just looking. Geez."

Once the bill was paid, the men wasted no time getting back onto the main road.

"11 or shovels?" Chet asked him, though he already knew what the answer would be.

"That slide wasn't fresh, and if they were trying to get through that pass, they might have hit trouble along the way. I say we clear it and keep going. We'll either run across them stuck somewhere on the road, or we'll meet them up at the cabin."

Chet agreed. "Okay, then's get it done."

0720

The two men stood in front of the massive pile of rocks and mud.

"You sure about this?" Chet asked. "I mean, I don't mind digging, but the road around might be faster."

Mike shook his head. "No, there is where we're supposed to be." He turned back to the truck. "Grab a shovel."

Chet frowned. "Who carries around a shovel anyways?"

Mike shrugged and grabbed one out of the truck bed, pushing it into Chet's waiting palm.

"Gloves?" He asked.

Mike pulled two sets from the locker in the back.

"You wouldn't happen to have a bulldozer in there, would you?" Chet chuckled. "Cap's going to have a field day with them if they can't get back to work."

Hopping down from the bed, he passed Chet. "Just start digging, and I'll work on the moveable ones."

With a steady rain coming down, the men started working.

Chet began shoveling the built-up muck that had rocks of all sizes trapped for at least thirty feet ahead of them. It wasn't going to be an easy job. Mike wasn't going to give in, though. Something nagged at him, an uncomfortable feeling that had him worried their friends didn't make it to the cabin and were stuck on the road somewhere between here and there.

0800

Despite being dressed in rain gear, both men were drenched and huffing when they stopped to assess their progress. The constant trickling of mud and small rocks from the wall above the road was nothing less than frustrating to their efforts.

"Mike."

He shook his head. "Don't say it."

"How much longer are we doing this?" He kicked a rock over the edge while grumbling at the seemingly ten thousand left to get moved.

"Here, let's move these two over the edge, and I might be able to move the others with the truck now."

Chet looked up. "I'm not sure how long this is going to hold up. It's pretty unstable."

Mike agreed, but they had come this far, and he wasn't ready to give up yet. "Then let's get finished."

Using all they had, they worked at pushing two of the manageable boulders to the very edge of the road. Until the first one became stuck against a broken part of the pavement.

"Quit playing around, Chet, push!" Mike quipped at him from exhaustion.

"I AM pushing!"

"If we don't get these two out of the way, there's no I can't get the truck around the corner."

"Okay, let's try again."

Another five minutes of struggling, with the rock tittering on edge, they were making no progress.

Turning around, his back to the rock, his hands went to his knees. "Hold on; I may have something we can use as a lever," Mike said.

At the truck, he jumped in the back and began rummaging through the box. Gabbing a tow bar, he hopped back over the side and walked over to the edge, glancing down into the ravine out of curiosity. Exhausted, his eyes grazed across the landscape below, the lush forest, the stream trickling through the valley floor, boxes, broken branches.

Wait, boxes?

Plastic storage boxes, green, lids now off, and supplies scattered in the mud. His eyes followed the trail ahead another twenty feet.

"Chet."

"Johnny's going to be in so much trouble," he chuckled. "Good, he can have latrine duty, deserves it after all the stuff he's been pulling on the Phantom."

"Chet."

He clapped his hands together and grinned. "Karma." With a furrow of his brow, he shuddered. "Earthworms."

"CHET!"

Mike ran back to the truck, lowered the tailgate, and began opening up boxes of supplies.

"So, you do have a bulldozer back there." When Mike didn't answer, he looked annoyed. "What are we doing?"

"Look!" He pointed down below.

Chet wandered over to the edge of the road, where the broken pavement met dirt and looked down.

"Oh, God."

"Get on the radio and call for help, rescue equipment. We need an engine," he was breathing heavily now. "An ambulance." Mike glanced around frantically. "Chopper, we need a chopper. They can meet us back at the store parking lot."

Chet just nodded and raced back into the cab, grabbing the radio, and placing the emergency call. He gave their location and notification of the rockslide blocking the road. Meeting Mike at the edge, he took the rope passed to him and tied it to the truck bumper, then tossed it downhill. Mike slipped a backpack with first aid supplies over his shoulders and passed a small bag of tools they might need down below. In minutes, they were working their way down the side of the mountain.

Landing in ankle-deep mud, both men hit the ground running, splashing through the running stream and to the upside-down Rover. Mike almost hadn't seen the large orange tarp, now mostly covered with mud and fallen branches, but he had, and at that moment, he understood why he hadn't been able to leave the area.

The rain was coming down steadily as the men reached the crumpled vehicle, seeing no signs of life from within, their anxiety soaring. Mike knelt, putting one gloved hand on the back of the Rover, careful to avoid the rough, shattered edges. The back hatch was crushed, not allowing him any access, with stacks of supplies trapped between him and the men. From what he could see, they were both in there, and not moving.

"Johnny! Roy!" He called out, getting no response from either one.

Glancing up, Mike could see the boulder that waited, teetering on the edge of the road, the one that he and Chet had struggled for so long to move. It would have directly impacted the Rover.

He swallowed hard.

Chet moved over to the side. "Mike. I think I can reach Johnny from here."

Reaching in, Chet quickly found Johnny's hand and felt for a pulse.

"Weak, but there. He's breathing too, but it's real irregular." He did a visual assessment from head to toe. "Damn, Mike, it looks bad."

"They'll be okay, we found them." His voice didn't sound as confident as his words.

Mike moved beside him, at the passenger door, grimacing at how bad Johnny's leg looked. "Roy?"

Chet reached in further, leaning over Johnny, and slid his fingers around Roy's wrist. Mike watched him close his eyes, his lips moving silently.

"Chet?"

His eyes shot to Mike as he shook his head. "I can't. I can't feel a pulse." His voice was shaking.

"Take a deep breath."

Chet did as told.

"Now, check his carotid."

Chet hesitated, not wanting to be the one that had to say Roy was gone.

"Chet," Mike urged him quietly. "We have to know."

His fingers felt cold, but Roy's skin felt chilled also. His color was very pale, and Chet couldn't see any rise of his chest. Sliding his fingers around his carotid, he found the notch and held his breath.

"Chet?"

His eyes shot up. "I feel it, it's weak, but he has a pulse." His hand went down to his chest. "I can't tell if he's breathing, it's just hard to tell."

Mike's hand reached in and rested on Roy's leg. "It's okay; we have them now."

"What can we do? Why isn't anyone here yet?"

"We need to keep them warm. I have some blankets in the bed storage. Look around inside and put whatever you can find on them. I'll be right back."

Chet studied his friends, trying to imagine what they had been through. How long had they been here? How long had they fought to survive until help came? Then what was he doing? Flirting with a waitress and shoving his face with food. Guilt washed over him as his chest tightened, realizing how close they came to never finding them.

"Here," Mike called out as he passed the thick blankets inside. "Help should be here soon." He watched Chet fuss over their friends, knowing the ticking clock was their worst enemy.

"Mike, if the slide happened yesterday morning, then they've been here the whole time."

He nodded. "I know."

0845

The blaring sirens were the best thing that either man had ever heard. The bright red fire engine was the first to arrive, pulling up right behind Mike's truck with four men hopping out. They couldn't hear the voices, but not the exact words. Not that it mattered, they knew the commands that were being sent out by heart. Get the ropes, stokes, belay lines, an ax, and most likely, the jaws of life.

In moments, an entire rescue team was rushing towards them.

"I'm Captain Simon," he said, shaking the two men's hands. "How many injured?"

"I'm Mike Stoker, Chet Kelly; we're firemen with LA county down in Carson." Mike pointed to the Rover. "Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto, medics with us. We were meeting up at Carter Lake. They left yesterday after shift. We think they've been down here since then."

The air around them instantly changed. These were two of their own family, and time was of the essence.

"We have a chopper coming to get them at the old Powell Store. "The roads too washed out to get an ambulance down here, so we'll move them by the engine."

"We can use my truck, Sir," Mike offered.

The Captain nodded. "That might be easier on them."

Mike assisted with getting the back hatch pried off, tossed to the side, allowing them access to both men. It would be easier to move them from the rear than out a side door. Chet stayed at the door, close to Johnny's side, and helped to pass supplies, clearing a path for the victims. They knew there were no paramedics in this area, and basic emergency care was all they could do in the field. A fellow fireman passed Chet a splint, and he worked at stabilizing Johnny's leg, tossing the flimsy branches out into the rain. The wound was dirty from water leaking through the tarp above and seeping into the open flesh. The skin around it was red and inflamed. Chet wasn't a medic, but he knew it was in bad shape. Taking the brace, he secured it around his neck, then with assistance, they moved the backboard under him and strapped him in for safety.

The blood on Johnny's shirt had led to finding a small laceration with dried crusted blood around it.

What the hell had happened out here?

Mike had helped to gain access to Roy. He didn't know a lot of paramedic things, but he had learned some things to watch for that were signs of serious injury. And to Mike's dismay, he found several of them in Roy. As Chet helped with Johnny, he stayed close to Roy, using the same techniques to ease him out from the rear safely. When Roy was laid down outside, to Mike's shock, he moaned.

"Roy? Can you hear me?" He leaned in close to him. "Roy, open your eyes for me."

He could hear Mike's voice, like a dream. Opening his eyes, he squinted against the daylight, and slowly a familiar face came into view.

Mike was smiling. "Hey, pally, we've got you now. You're going to be okay."

"Johnny," he rasped out. "Head injury, not been conscious."

Roy tried to look over to see him but realized he was already out of the truck. Pushing against the restraints, he was weak and his effort useless.

"Hey, easy does it." He squeezed Roy's shoulder. "He's already gone, Roy."

"Hurt."

Mike frowned at his pale coloring and labored breathing. "You're going to be okay now, just relax for me."

"Collapsed lung."

"You? Roy?"

"Johnny...went to sleep...didn't wake up."

"Oh."

A tear ran down Roy's face as he suddenly processed something Mike had said. One single word.

"I need some oxygen in here," Mike called out as he watched the color drain from Roy's face.

"Joanne."

Mike nodded his head. "I'll call Joanne myself, and then you can tell her what happened."

"Mike."

"No, we're not having that discussion. Let's get you out of here and to the hospital."

There was no more arguing since Roy closed his eyes and drifted back into unconsciousness. Once he was also secured, they moved him out and up to the road. Chet was already at the top and had Johnny in the truck, now kneeling beside him.

"Anything from him yet?" Mike asked as he helped slide Roy in beside Johnny.

Chet shook his head sadly. "Nothing at all."

Mike smiled. "Roy woke up and talked to me, worried to death about Johnny."

Chet returned the smile. "Of course. That's good, Mike, right?"

"Yea, it's really good, Chet," Mike answered but found it difficult to feel the conviction behind the words.

Captain Simon approached them. "Follow us. We'll be taking it real slow to the store. The roads are getting worse by the minute, and I don't think those boys can take too must jostling around."

Mike nodded. "We're ready, Cap."

The distance wasn't far, but the going was very slow. Every check into his rearview mirror found a frown on Chet's face as he tried to make sure his patients remained stable through every bump in the road.

0920

The chopper was there and waiting on them as they pulled into the neglected parking lot. Mike and Chet were both grateful to see the flight medics, who quickly began their assessments and management. Before leaving the ground, both men had IV's going, volume bolus's running, and slightly more stable vital signs.

"Where are they taking them?" Chet asked as the Captain as the chopper lifted off the ground.

"Take 12 North, into Rittman. The hospital is on the left towards the middle of town. You can't miss it."

"They're a trauma center?" Mike asked, knowing his friends' needed high-level care.

Simon put his hand on his shoulder. "No, son, they aren't. But they will try to get them stabilized enough to make the air flight down to LA as soon as they can."

To make the flight. Mike and Chet exchanged looks. This was bad.

They quickly loaded into the truck and followed the engine back towards the small mountain community. Reaching the fire station first, Mike and Chet waited quietly, though not necessarily patiently, until the engine had backed into their bay, allowing them to keep going. Following the main road into town, it didn't take long to find the signs for the hospital. It was small, very small, and both men knew that this was not where their injured friends needed to be. For now, it was the closest medical care, and they had no control over the situation. Parking was easy in the small lot, and they followed the red sign a short distance to the Emergency Room.

A small counter and receptionist greeted them with a relaxed smile. "Please sign in."

Mike shook his head. "We're not patients. Our two friends were brought in just a little bit ago. They were in a car accident."

Her expression changed immediately to one of great concern. "Oh, yes. Follow me, please," the older woman told them.

They followed her down the small hallway, to a nurse's station that sat in the middle with approximately eight patient rooms circling it. They waited as she had a brief discussion with a nurse behind the desk, then left.

"Can I get some information, gentlemen?"

"Are they okay?" Chet asked. He knew the answer but wasn't in the mood to answer silly questions right now.

"Neither man had any I.D. on them. It would help us to locate their families if you could provide us with some information."

Mike nodded and answered the seemingly endless litany of questions. "Can we see them now?"

"Of course. Follow me, please."

When she opened the door, they immediately saw three nurses and doctors trying to hold Roy down on the exam table.

"What are you doing?" Mike barked, loud enough that everyone hesitated long enough to look back at them.

Roy was trying to get up, despite his injuries. Chet ran to his side and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Roy, you have to stop, Roy."

Roy wasn't listening, frantic, and not even focusing on anyone.

"Can't you give him something?" Mike asked with concern.

"I've already given him pain medicine. He needs to listen to us," one of the white lab coat wearing men said. The man in green scrubs appeared annoyed at having to deal with a disruptive patient and visitors.

Chet pressed his brow down. "You're supposed to be helping him."

"I'm Dr. Keys, and I am doing my job. Exactly who are you?"

Mike stepped forward as Chet leaned in and tried to calm Roy down. "We work with Roy in the LA County Fire Department."

"If you're not family, you need to leave right now."

"I'm trying to reach Roy's wife, and until she is here, we are his family." Mike clarified in a very strong voice.

Chet kept talking to Roy, working at calming him down. It was working, and slowly, Roy gave up the fight against unknown demons and lapsed back into the darkness. Chet knew things were serious, seeing four IV's running and the inflatable MAST trousers on his bottom half, only used for internal bleeding and low blood pressures.

"How's he doing?" Mike asked the nurse, as Dr. Keys moved over to the desk.

The cranky physician answered instead. "He has a mild concussion, broken ribs with a collapsed lung, internal injuries, and a fractured pelvis. He is heading up to surgery soon."

"I thought they were being transported to LA?"

The doctor let out a huff. "We can take care of him here. He wouldn't survive the trip."

Chet shot a look at Mike.

"Oh, the flight medics made it sound like he was stable," Chet said, fumbling with shock.

The young physician scoffed. "Well, flight medics are even more useless than paramedics."

Mike's jaw clamped down. He was speechless.

Chet looked up at the monitors and took note of Roy's vital signs. "Mike, we need to check on Johnny."

When the engineer didn't seem willing to move, Chet took him by the arm and pushed him out the door.

"I can't believe him," Mike growled.

"I know, but we need to check on Johnny."

Mike nodded and followed Chet across the hall. When they opened that door, uninvited, they found Johnny lying quietly on the trauma table. Over by the desk was a doctor studying some x-rays.

"Doc, we wanted to see how Johnny was doing," Chet asked in the quiet room.

The man turned around, lowered his glasses, and looked at them. "Who are you?"

"I'm Chet Kelly, and this is Mike Stoker. We work with Johnny and Roy. We helped rescue them."

"Ah, yes, come in." He moved to join them at the table. "I'm Doctor Madena."

Johnny remained unconscious, still strapped to the backboard and neck brace in place. The leg remained held the temporary splint placed on by the flight team, a couple of IV's were running, and his head had a new, clean wrap on it. An oxygen mask was on his face now, and the men noticed the new chest drain tube in his side.

"We have been able to stabilize his vital signs. He seems to have a chest injury that caused a collapsed lung, and we have corrected that with the chest tube. He is pretty battered and bruised up, but my two primary concerns are his leg fracture and his head injury."

He looked up to the men.

"He has a skull fracture and is comatose."

"He'll wake up doc, right?" Chet asked with worry.

"We don't have the capability to do any further studies here. All we can do is wait."

Mike was instantly frustrated. "And his leg?"

"The break was bad but repairable. However, it appears to be infected, and I'm not sure the antibiotics will be enough to treat it."

Chet frowned. "When can he be moved to LA?"

"Oh, not anytime soon. He's far too unstable."

Mike stepped closer to Johnny. "You said his vitals were stable, and Rampart has a neurosurgeon who can take care of him."

The doctor shook his head. "I have to decide what to do with his leg first."

Chet's heart rate jumped up. "What?"

"The leg is infected, and I am concerned that we may have to take it."

Mike instinctually found himself stepping between Johnny and the doctor now. "He needs to go to LA."

The doctor continued to try and appease them. "In time. Now, if you'll please return to the waiting room, we have more tests to perform."

"We're not leaving him alone," Chet protested.

Instead of joining him, Mike took his arm and led him out the door.

"Mike, what are you doing? God knows what they are going to do while we're gone. We have to protect him from these crazy people!"

"That's exactly what we're going to do."

1024

Mike looked at his watch and knew that time was running out for Johnny and Roy. Heading straight for the payphone, he dialed the operator and asked for the one place that could help them.

"Emergency, how can I help you?"

Mike recognized the voice immediately. "Dixie, this is Mike Stoker."

"Mike," she answered joyfully. "Good to hear from you. What can I do for you?"

"Dixie, we have an emergency here, and we need help right away."

She went on instant alert. "Okay, what's going on?"

"It's Roy and Johnny. They were hurt in an accident, we think it happened yesterday morning, but we just found them. It's bad, Dixie, and we're stuck up here in a small hospital with minimal services. They are holding off on transporting them out. They're even saying they need to cut off Johnny's leg."

She audibly gasped. "Hold on, let me get Kel."

Kelly Brackett was on the phone immediately. "Mike, this is Brackett, what's going on?"

Mike updated the doctor on both Johnny and Roy, including the vital signs that Chet seen.

"We need help, doc."

"Mike, stay with them. Let me make some phone calls, and I'll see what I can do from here."

When he hung up, he felt discouraged. They were still alone in the middle of nowhere.

"What are we going to do?"

"I'll stay with Johnny, you stay with Roy," Mike told him.

"And do what?" Chet asked, knowing neither man had any medical knowledge, especially to challenge the doctors.

Mike narrowed his brow. "Whatever feels like the right thing to do."

Taking up positions outside each door, they tried to stay out of the way and avoid getting officially kicked out. That wouldn't do any of them any good. Thankfully, the small emergency room staff was hectic caring for the two unexpected critical traumas that came in and didn't have time to argue with the men.

"We'll be taking Mr. DeSoto up to surgery in just a bit," one nurse updated Chet. "You can wait in the surgery waiting room."

Chet looked over to Mike, who had also heard. Of course, they wanted Roy to be taken care of, even if it meant emergency surgery. The problem was the uneasy feeling that they both carried and the lack of certainty by the doctor caring for him.

Meanwhile, other doctors had come and gone from Johnny's room, increasing their worry, with no new information being shared.

"Gentlemen."

Dr. Keys stood between them.

"I know you are concerned about your friends, but we can't let you interfere with the care we need to give them. Mr. DeSoto will be going to surgery, and so is Mr. Gage."

Chet's eyes went wide. "Wait, what is Johnny going to surgery for?" He asked, dreading the answer. If the doctor said to take his leg, what would he do? Would he be the one putting Johnny's life at risk doing the wrong thing?

"We'll discuss that after their family arrives."

Chet turned. "Mike? What are we going to do?"

He felt defeated and powerless as he watched the panic flare in Chet's eyes. What were they going to do?

What could they do?

It was a nightmare, and they were locked right in the middle of it.