jh_art.s

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“Alright junior,” Roy exhaled as he sat in the drivers seat beside Johnny, a sandwich in hand. “We need to make ourselves available in less than five minutes, so finish up quickly.”

“Mhm,” Johnny nodded, already stuffing his face per usual. Roy sat and started to eat his sandwich on the edge of the drivers seat, his legs hanging out of the squad’s open door to enjoy the fair weather.

Roy had just taken his first bite when a lady in a faded, grapefruit-orange blouse and bell bottom blue jeans wandered up to them.

She seemed to be anxious, shifting nervously, her gaze never quite meeting Roy’s eyes. She was twitching slightly, and for less than a second Roy had to fight off the thought that she might try to grab him.

“Please, sir. I don’t have any money and I’m stranded here for hours with no food. Could you maybe spare a dollar to buy me some lunch?”

Roy glanced back at Johnny, whose mouth was full. Johnny shrugged slightly as if to say “I dunno.” Roy looked back at the lady, whose dark brown hair was clinging to her face with drops of sweat despite the nice California weather, a pleading look in her eyes and trembling hands. She really did look desperate.

“Okay,” he nodded slowly, setting his sandwich and suspicions aside and reaching into his pocket, his kindness and desire to help taking the lead. “I’ll go buy you a sandwich. Johnny, wait here with the squad.”

Roy got up and walked over to the small stand. While he talked to the man running the stand, the lady inched closer to the squads open door. Johnny, “half-starved to death” from a busy shift, was paying little attention to her, focused solely on his sandwich.

Suddenly, she slid into the drivers seat, slamming the door shut behind her and putting it in drive. Johnny looked up in shock, mouth still half full. “What’re you doin’?!”

She didn’t respond or even look in his direction, just pressed the gas and peeled away, running over the curb and onto the street. She drove erratically and cars swerved left and right to avoid the squad.

“Hey! Hey!!” Roy yelled, dropping his money and running away from the stand to the curb.

“Hey!” Johnny said, thrown against the door by her jerky driving. “Stop that!” He said, reaching out to pull her arms away from the steering wheel. She flinched away, finally looking in his direction.

“No! I can’t!” She yelled angrily before turning back to look at the road. Beads of sweat dripped down her forehead and her breathing was fast and inconsistent, almost as if she was hyperventilating.

“Hey! Johnny!” Roy called desperately, reaching the edge of the curb before the busy street. He tensed and ran his fingers through his hair worriedly. He could only hope Johnny would call in and inform headquarters of their situation, and that neither the lady nor her unstable driving would hurt him.

Roy jogged back to the stand, where the worker was still standing, dumbstruck, where Roy had left him. “I need to use your phone!” he almost shouted, on the verge of panic.

Meanwhile, the squad hurtled down the street, narrowly missing other cars and signs. Johnny prayed they wouldn’t cross the median into the opposing stream of oncoming traffic. He’d handled a lot of wrong-way traffic accidents, and they were never pretty.

Johnny reached for the com, but hesitated, unsure of how he could even describe the situation. Thankfully, the hysterical woman next to him didn’t notice his actions, clearly more concerned by something it seemed only she was aware of.

“This is Squad 51, we have a still alert at…” he glanced wildly around searching for a sign to identify their location, “An apparent OD has seized the squad and has us going down Montgomery Lane, leaving my partner behind.”

“Squad 51, have you attempted to regain control of the vehicle?”

“That’s a negative, HQ. Our speed is too high for me to retake the wheel without causing an accident.”

“Hey!” She said, snatching the com from Johnnys hand and throwing it by her feet.

“Squad 51, do you copy? Squad 51-“ He could hear the muffled voice of the operator from the floor of the drivers seat.

“Now what did you do that for?! Look lady, I don’t know what you’re doing but you need to stop it, now! We can get you help, but not if we end up wrapped around a lamppost!”

She looked back over at him with wild eyes, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel further, unable to keep the wheel steady, tilting the squad side to side at every second.

“I can’t! I need to do this!”

“Do what?!”

She didn’t respond. It seemed she was coming out of a manic state, and the adrenaline was wearing off. Her eyes became unfocused as she faded in and out of consciousness. As her body began to droop, her foot let pressure off the gas, and the squad slowed. Hurriedly, Johnny grabbed the wheel and steered the squad quickly (and as carefully as possible) off the street and into the grass.

She slumped against the steering wheel, falling fully unconscious, as Johnny pulled the emergency break and the squad finally came to a stop. He reached for the com and fumbled a bit before calling HQ again.

“Squad 51, I’ve regained control of our vehicle, we’ve come to a stop in the corner park of Montgomery and West 4th. Victim is fully unconscious now.”

“10-4 Squad 51. We’ve dispatched several police, a second squad, and an ambulance to your location.”

“Squad 51, 10-4.”

Johnny shakily got to work, pulling her woman from the vehicle and laying her in the grass. He fought nausea for a moment following his wild ride, but he knew he had to get to work. Retrieving the biophone and drug box, he began taking her vitals while phoning Rampart, and finally, distant police sirens reached his ears.

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“I still can’t believe it,” Roy said incredulously as Dr. Brackett and Dixie walked he and Johnny back through the hospital and out to the squad.

“Unfortunately these reactions to drugs are becoming more common as the users go to more dangerous lengths to find a high,” Brackett sighed. “She’s finally stabilized, and we’re waiting for her lab results to come back, and for her friend to give us more information about who and where she’s been getting the weed from. From what Dix gathered from her friend, she ran off after becoming extremely paranoid, having hallucinated that her apartment was on fire. Which is why I’m assuming she stole the squad- and you- to bring back to her place.”

“Why didn’t she just call?” Johnny asked, still quite shaken up and in disbelief. Although something seems to happen to him every shift, it’s not like he’d ever been stolen before.

“It’s anyone’s guess,” Dixie answered, coming to a stop just outside the emergency department’s doors, hands in her pockets. “Likely, because her friend didn’t believe her, she thought she’d have to trick you as well and bring you there herself. Logic escapes people in moments of panic and paranoia.”

“It was actually Early that figured it out. Remember that patient a couple of months ago that had gone crazy at work, and we couldn’t figure out what was causing it? Well, Early remembered that he’d been growing his own weed, and the pesticides he used to protect it had caused the reaction,” she added.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Roy. It can be hard to identify such an unusual reaction to drugs until it’s too late, and the symptoms can increase the longer the person is affected. At least, she stole a paramedic, and you were able to phone in and offer the correct help and care she needed.”

The group turned their attention to Johnny, and Dixie grasped his shoulder gently, smiling up at him. “You did great, Johnny.”

Dr. Brackett nodded, putting his hands into the pockets of his white coat. He’d always admired the paramedics and first responders’ calm under pressure, especially with such completely unexpected or wild events. Though he hadn’t always been very good at it, he was getting much better at vocalizing this appreciation to the paramedics.

Of course, the group had looked Johnny over several times at the hospital, with Roy continually asking if he was okay, and apologizing for lacking cautiousness by leaving Johnny alone in the squad. Johnny, for once, was fine, although a little shaken up and sick from such a crazy drive immediately after eating. He’d thrown up, once, after Dixie and Brackett had taken the woman into a room, but luckily he’d managed to make it it the bathroom in time.

Johnny flashed the group his lopsided grin, bringing his hand to rest by his chest, “Ah well, you know, I’m just glad she’s okay and gonna get the help she needs.”

Roy and Johnny got into the squad, saying their farewells and thank yous, and pulled out of the hospital emergency parking. Johnny, a little nervous to be back in the squad, subconsciously sat a little closer to Roy on the front bench seat. Roy shot a quick, fond smile at Johnny. “I’m glad you’re okay, Johnny.”

Johnny looked over and smiled back, his dark eyes catching the evening light, turning a glowing a soft, lighter brown. So often he needed verbal affirmations, and he was always glad to receive them from his loved ones. “Thanks.”

Roy imagined Johnny would be quite hungry when they’d arrive back at the station, so he’d called from the hospital to make sure the station would have dinner ready. Johnny, ever hungry, would be especially so after tossing his cookies, and he would definitely be willing to take Cap’s sympathy special meal.

They started drifting off to thinking what the station’s reactions would be- Chet would feign disinterest while really hanging on to their every word, Marco and Mike silently making eye contact or gasping when the story got exciting, Cap accepting them back warmly, gladly telling them how grateful he was they were alright. Later, he’d probably call Johnny into his office for a quick check up to make sure Johnny was really okay, but for then he would just listen to their story alongside the other members of Station 51 with rapt attention.

“Squad 51, available.”

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