#'No we must help guide passengers away from the scene! Passenger safety is top priority!'

[intubatedangel]

Cold Snap: Chapter 2

Chapter 1|

 *******

Dave was driving the ambulance down the towards the river road, approaching from the center of the city, when the call came through.

"All available units, major incident on river ferry, requesting all available units respond to docks nearest Tippers Point and North Inglebank." There was a pause as the technician dialed in straight to them. "3008, you're closest. Can you initiate triage protocols on scene?"

Dave looked at Lucy, who simply nodded, then picked up the radio receiver.

"3008 to control. We can do that. Do you have further details?" she asked.

"Not yet. You are to liaise with river patrol and assess the situation on scene. Use your judgement." The radio goes silent.

"That's a lot of help." Lucy sighs. The ambulance reaches the outskirts of the business district, turning onto the river road. Without skyscrapers in the way they can see the expanse of the river, the black plume of smoke clear and obvious, below it the water taxi, limping across the surface of the river. From this distance they could just make out people on the upper deck, waving their arms, and a speedboat, a red and blue strobing light flashing from a pole. Dave guided the ambulance between the traffic, which thankfully relented easily with everyone aware of their destination. He guided it off the road, onto the small dock.

They jumped out, already hearing other sirens approaching. Dave grabbed his radio, tuning to the emergency channel. "This is 3008, taking control of Inglebank incident." A properly trained team would be on their way, but that would be ten minutes. "All units report in upon arrival."

Lucy was looking out the imperiled boat. "I don't think she's going down. She's taken on water, but I don't think its totally fatal, not soon anywhere." She paused. "I should go out there."

Dave looked at her, seeing that she had thought it through, then simple raised the radio again. "Calling all river patrol, please divert 1 to North Inglebank Dock to take on medical passenger."

* * *

 Jones held tight to some of the hand holds on the rim of the patrol boat as it bounced and skipped along the river towards The Beetle. He was able to make out the design of the boat. It was long, with a stepped profile. The passenger compartment rose two levels, to better look out across the river. Towards the front, he could see a wide interior staircase leading down to the proper deck, flanked by doors to the lower level. Towards the rear, a number of windows had been blown out of the lower deck, with smoke billowing forth. The smoke was thick and black, and also running into the upper deck. The product of incomplete burning. If there was a fire, it was most likely just smoldering the oils and grease that must have been within the engine bay. Fuel would be burning much hotter, and would have taken out much more of the boat. That didn't mean it couldn't change.

With the smoke filling the interior, all the passengers had escaped to the front deck. It was crowded, and agitated, but not a complete panic. Yet. As the patrol boat eased up next to the taxi, close to an access ladder, Jones threw out a rope to a man in a high vis jacket, expecting it be one of the crew. The fact he immediately tied off the rope was a decent sign Jones was right. Winton was talking on the radio, so he climbed the metal rungs, and pulled himself onto the deck, appealing for calm as he tried to make sense of the situation. He approached the crew member, seeing that he's an older man, with a white beard and matching hair.

"You are?" He asks.

"The captain, sir."

"Good. I’m officer Jones, what's the situation?"

"Catastrophic engine failure. Couldn't get eyes on but I don't think it's fixable. We're dead in the water."

Jones bit back a flash of anger. "Is the boat sinking right now?"

The captain sighs. "Yes, but slowly as far as we can tell. My lads are trying to get access, find out more, but as it stands, she'll stay on the surface for plenty long enough."

"Ok." Jones turns to the crowd. "Help is coming, so please stay calm, we'll get everyone to safety." He scanned the crowd, seeing plenty of bloodstains and dazed looks, but nothing too major.

* * *

  Lucy had made a quick boarding onto the patrol boat that pulled up at their dock. Sirens had been approaching, but she trusted Dave to organise everything on this side. She double checked her bags as they skimmed across the surface, effectively deputising the one of the cops on board the patrol boat. She showed him a set of large colour coded tags. "We tag everyone!" She shouted over the sound of the motor. "Green for no signs of injury. Blue for cuts and scrapes. Yellow for broken bones, burns, anything you would expect to need treated." She explains each colour.

"Purple for conscious head injury, right?" The cop checked, having been part of major incident responses before now.

Lucy nodded in reply. "Anything worse, you point to me. Those will be priority one, understand?"

The cop gave her an acknowledgment, pocketting the stack of tags, and they made the rest of the journey in silence, both thinking about what they may find onboard the damaged vessel.

 A few short minutes later they pulled up alongside The Beetle, other patrol boats backing off to allow them access to the ladder. Lucy climbed up first, not hesitating for a moment. Reaching the deck she saw that things were not as bad as she feared. There were plenty of injuries, but the fact everyone seemed to be sitting or standing, and no one immediately tried to grab her, suggested there was nothing critical.

She waved the cop she had commandeered towards the crowd of passengers, who she noticed were mostly organised into the correct categories anyway. She spied one cop who seemed to have taken charge, on the opposite side of the deck, marshalling kids onto a patrol boat, and headed over.

* * *

Shona’s ears rang. Her nostrils were filled with smoke. Where....What....

Sensation began to return. Her whole body ached with pains and pressure, but one pain kept growing and growing. Her leg. Her leg felt like a constant sharp pain, like a spear was jammed in it. She tried to open her eyes, but her vision swam, and a wave of nausea crashed over her.  I took a moment for it to pass, before Shona tried to open her eyes again.

It was better, not by much, but not sickening. She was looking at whitewashed, decades old wooden boards. The ceiling of the lower cabin of the water taxi, and the doorless frame of the luggage compartment. That answered the where.

She started to look around, there was smoke, a lot of it, thick and black, flowing up the stairs. Something seemed off though. The smoke was rising at an angle, heading to the wall first. The boat wasn't level. It was tilted to one side. Which must mean. Sinking. The boat was sinking.

Instinctively she tried to move, to flee. But the pain seared through from her leg, and the rest of her could barely move either. She looked down, having avoided doing so up to now, only to see a whole luggage rack lying across her legs, pinning her, with smaller bags from the sides scattered over her top half. She could just see which bag was on her excruciatingly painful, almost certainly broken, leg. She almost laughed hysterically. It was her own.

The case prompted more details to came to mind. "Jack?!" She shouted, pushing away a couple of the smaller bags, trying to get a clearer view of the nearby floor. She saw him, crumpled in a heap, not far from her. They must have both been thrown down the stairs when the engine exploded. He wasn't pinned, but a trickle of blood ran from a cut in his scalp and he was clearly unconscious. "Jack!" She shouted again, grabbing a lighter bag, and throwing it at him. It had the desired reaction, he stirred, moving slightly and groaning.

His groan grew to a shout of pain as he pulled himself up. Shona watched him as he turned slightly, and she saw his right arm. More specifically she saw the bone sticking out of the skin above where he held it. She realised the implication immediately. There was no way he could help her remove all the bags. Especially not her own. "Jack!" She shouted again, trying to get his attention. He looked up, squinting slightly as he looked for who shouted his name. He was clearly dazed, working through things just like she had.

He looked around and Shona could see him piecing things together, before his head snapped back to her direction. "Shona? That you?" His voice was a little slurred

"Yes. Jack. Listen. I'm trapped. I need you to get help, to get these bags off me. I think the boat is sinking, so please hurry."

He squinted at her, shuffling forward on his knees. "Trapped?" He asked. "I..er...I can." His voice was off, still feeling the effects of the head injury.

"You can't. Your arm. Just go. Up the stairs, get help. Please!" Shona pleads, using short phrases in the hope it might help.

It seemed to work. Jack nodded. "OK... OK." He took a few deep breaths, reaching out with his good arm, grabbing the door frame of the luggage area. He pulled himself up, hissing with pain as he did so. His eyes found hers. "Hold on." He said.

She nodded. "Hurry..." She whispered. He nodded, then turned, stumbling towards the stairs on the listing floor, but reaching the stairs. He gripped the rail, then began to climb. A moment later he disappeared into the thick smoke, leaving Shona alone.

* * *

  "Ok Winston, that's all the kids." Jones looked to the small faces, many with tears rolling down their cheeks despite reassurance their parents would be with them soon. "Winston here is going to take and nice and steady for you guys! If you ask nicely he'll tell you about all the fish he knows!" Jones looked pointedly at one of the older kids, a girl, maybe 15, who nodded at him.

"I think thats a great idea!" She said loudly."What's the biggest fish you've ever caught Mr. Winston?"

Winston gave Jones a quick salute, before setting the patrol boat in motion. "Well, that is a story! Have any of our been out to west? Into the lakes? It's be, oh, 10 years ago..." Jones turned away, almost colliding with the paramedic.

"Lucy Branthwaite. You in charge?" She asked, rather abrupt, an annoyed look on her face.

"Apparently. Matt Jones." He held up a hand, forestalling her. "I know what you're going to say. We checked them for injuries. Greens and blues only, but i've directed them to the triage dock anyway. There should be enough time for your people to give them a once over before we make them busy."

Lucy's stony gaze on him held for a few moments, then softened. "Ok," she said. "What else have we got?"

"Mostly minors, a few bumps to the head though. I want to send those next with your permission, then work our way through the rest. We don't have safe capacity for everyone in a single go, but the captain says we should have plenty of time, before the boat becomes dangerous."

"Ok, agreed. Do all your boats have spineboards?" She asked, recieveing a nod in reply, get them all on deck, I'll assess the head injuries, immobilise those that need it I can have some of your man power."

"I wouldn't call them mine, but I'll spread the..." he's cut off by a shout, as crew members come running out onto the deck. "Hold!" Jones shouts, bringing them up short. "Report!"

"Fire! Fire in the engine bay, we couldn't put it out." The crew member shouted, causing a ripple of alarm through the crowd of passenger.

The captain came closer. "Quiet you fool. How bad is it?"

"Caught a fuel leak sir. We managed to clamp the lines before we got out, but its burning in that direction."

"Officer Jones, our time just became more limited. If the fuel tank blows we'll be under within ten minutes."

* * *

 The officer looked at her. It was hidden, but she could see the panic in his eyes. "Can we send the head injuries without immobilisation?"

Lucy ran her hand through her hair, looking at that small cluster of passengers, then she nodded. "I think so." She pointed to one bag, there's a dozen neckbraces in there, they'll have to do. I'll go with them in one boat, slow and gentle. Can your other boats handle the rest?"

"They'll have too." Jones replied. Before turning and barking orders, the air of command returning as soon as the decision was made, getting the less injured onto the first available boat, making best use of time.

Lucy made her way to the head injuries, and began fixing the collars, before handing them off to some officers who were helping them into the patrol boats as gently as they could. Lucy finished with last one, and looked around for Jones to tell him they were going, when she saw a new figure stumbling down the stairs inside. She saw the gruesome spur of bone sticking from his arm and rushed forward, pulling the door open for him. He almost fell into her arms.

"Help her...Plea..."

 The fire reached the fuel tanks.

#medical drama #Anna Swift #cpr #Defib #resus writing