The EMTs

"Assault"/huntemann                                                                                                                                             Page 5

Prologue
Scene [2]

The EMTs

My body's not ready, it came too fast,
My heart stuttered, I breathed my last.
Anonymous techs, arrived in a flash,
Worked for my life, to the ER in a dash.
                                                 Renee’s Song

1995/04/07 16:19-16:39
765 Tremont St., 4th floor, Boston, MA
         Push... push... push... Captain Larry Sullivan, of Boston Fire Rescue Number 20, leans heavy massage into the young girl’s chest. He pinches her nose and puffs into her limp mouth.

         Push... push... push... again. “Get the Ambu bag on her.”

         Fireman Frank James drops the kit next to the bed. Opens it. Pulls out the resuscitator device and looks at the girl. “Jeezze, she could be my girlfriend’s little sister.”

         Sullivan gives her another puff, then continues heart massage. “You know her?” Push... push... push...

         “No, Janet doesn’t have a sister. She just looks like her.”

         James places the mask over the girl’s face and attaches the strap tightly around her head. He begins squeezing the blue bag forcing air into her lungs. The flapper valve burps as the air exhales.

         Sullivan says, “Check for a pulse,” and he suspends the massages while James feels for a pulse.

         “Nope.”

         Push... push... push...

         A pair of EMTs from BCH1 Ambulance Number 15 come up the stairs with a gurney.

         Push... push... push...

         Squeeze... burp.

         The EMT transport team maneuvers the gurney next to the bed, but has to shove the night stand out of the way, several empty glassine bags fall to the floor.

         Push... push... push...

         “Hold up on the resuscitator for a second, let me intubate her,” says EMT #1.

         James pulls the mask off the girl and the EMT carefully slides a plastic tube into the girl’s throat.

         “Take over James,” Sullivan says.

         Push... push... push... from the younger fireman.

         “What’d she snort?” Sullivan shouts to an Asian man cowering in the corner.

         “I don’t know,” his voice cracks. “I took her to Lynn last night. She didn’t say what she got.”

         EMT #1 pulls the mask off the end of the resuscitator hose and snaps the hose directly onto the plastic tube. Sullivan gives the bag a squeeze... burp.

         Push... push... push...

         “Probably heroin,” a detective entering the room says. He points to the bags on the floor.

         Push... push... push...

         James stops briefly again while the EMTs pick the girl up and put her on the gurney.

         “Well, Boyle, we meet again,” Sullivan says and gives the Ambu bag a squeeze... burp.

         “What is it? Second time this week?” Boyle asks.

         Push... push... push...

         “Does Sunday morning count? That’d make it three,” Sullivan says.

         “I’ll take that,” EMT #1 says.

         Sullivan hands him the resuscitator bag.

         Squeeze... burp.

         They check for a pulse again... none.

         Push... push... push...

         The transport team wheels the girl out the door, James continues massage as they descend three flights of stairs.

         Push... push... push...

         Squeeze... burp.

         Sullivan taps his watch, scribbles on a form, and moves towards the door to follow. “Mind if I call you for the particulars, Boyle? Gotta run.”

         “Sure, I’ll be here for a while. Use channel two.”

         Detective Lance Boyle stands in front of the Asian man, “You make the call young man?”

         “Yes, sir.”

         “Well, son,” Boyle holds one of the bags up to the window to examine the white powder residue, “let’s start at the beginning.”


Pages: 4
Words: 560

Footnotes
1  BCH – Boston City Hospital, since changed to Boston Medical Center in 1989.