Without A Chance

by Nancy F. Thysell, the Nifty Lady

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He sat in his recliner, trying to get comfortable. The cast on his leg was itching like crazy. Let alone the fact that it still hurt like hell. The lack of anything entertaining on TV was just another annoyance. Roy yelled to his wife to bring him another beer. It helped to dull the pain. He became angry when no beer was forthcoming. He swore as he remembered that she had gone to pickup the kids from school.

He reached down and pulled up his crutches, then lowered the foot of the recliner and raised himself up. He hobbled into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. He grabbed the lone bottle from the door shelf and slammed the door shut. His wife should have bought more brews. He was getting pretty impatient with having to put up with this! Well, she wasn't going to get away with it anymore. It was time that she learned a lesson. One that she wouldn't soon forget!

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John Gage swung down the corridor of Rampart's emergency room and headed for the base station. No one was there and so he went ahead and helped himself to a cup of coffee. Brice came out of treatment room two, saw Gage and joined him at the desk, opening the drug box. As Brice began to methodically check the contents, Johnny made a face and rolled his eyes.

"Come on, Brice. That box hadn't changed since our last run!" he complained.

"Now, Gage, it never hurts to be careful. I just want to be certain that I know where everything is."

"Damn, Brice. You put everything in there! How in the hell wouldn't you NOT know what's in there?" Johnny was starting to lose patience with his temporary partner. Maybe next shift they would assign someone else. It was going to be a long six weeks until Roy would be cleared for duty again.

"There's no need to use profanity." Brice stated it simply--a statement of fact. Satisfied with his inspection of the drug box, he latched it and headed down the hall. "I'll see you in the Squad."

Johnny took another sip of his coffee, somewhat wondering if he could delay the inevitable. Head ER Nurse Dixie McCall came out of the same treatment room that Brice had just exited.

"Hi Johnny," she greeted cheerfully.

"Hi Dix. How's our patient?"

"Oh, I imagine once the embarrassment wears off, he'll be just fine," she conceded.

"Well, that's good. I guess I'd better catch up with Brice before he drives off without me." He finished his coffee and dropped the Styrofoam cup in the wastebasket.

"How's Roy doing?"

"Okay I guess. JoAnne says he's getting a bit stir crazy. Can't wait to get the cast off. I can't wait either. Working with a temporary partner...well, it's just not..."

"Not the same?" Dixie finished for him.

"Yeah, exactly. Hey, I'll tell him you asked about him. I'd better go. Later, Dix." He gave Dixie one of his crooked smiled and headed for the squad.

"Bye Johnny. Take care."

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He was in a foul mood when his wife finally returned. She was late. She carried in two bags of groceries as she entered the room. A boy and girl dashed past her to say hi to their Dad. They both stopped abruptly, fearfully, when they saw the look on his face. His wife saw it too.

"Chris," she said quietly, "take your sister and go upstairs to play now."

"Yes ma'am." Protectively, he took his sister's hand and they ran out of the room, grateful to be away from the man in the recliner. He knew it was his dad but it didn't feel like his dad. He worried that something must be really wrong with him. It made him feel afraid. They went into his bedroom and set their books down on the bed. As an after thought, he turned and locked the door.

His sister looked scared. "Why'd you do that?"

Chris shrugged his shoulders. "Come on, let's play."

She followed him over to the toy box and in moments they were absorbed in a game.

Meanwhile, downstairs the man looked at his wife through glazed eyes.

"We're outta beer," he accused her. She nervously looked from him to the kitchen. She thought there had been plenty. That meant he had drunk eight bottles. She started to move towards the kitchen. The paper bags were heavy and she needed to set them down. He roughly grabbed her arm as she moved and the bags slipped from her grip, dropping with a loud crash on the floor.

"Now look what you did!" he screamed. The wildness in his blue eyes frightened her.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she mumbled. She bent down and began to pick up the groceries. His right hand slammed into her left check, sending her sprawling. Tears stung her eyes and she gingerly raised her hand to her face.

"Get this mess cleaned up now!" he ordered. Then as an afterthought, "And get me another beer!"

"Okay, honey. I'm doing it," she told him as she hurriedly picked up the spilled items and gathered them into the kitchen. He glared at her. She had never seen him like this. Not in all the years of marriage he had ever raised a hand to her. Her face still smarted from the slap. It must be the pain he's in, she thought. That has to be the explanation.

"I want another beer," he yelled again. "NOW!"

She poked her head out the kitchen door. "Roy, we're completely out. I'll have to go to the store."

He leaned back in the chair and groaned. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. She could hear him swearing under his breath.

"I'll go back to the store right away," she offered.

"Then go, damn it!" he snarled. She was taken aback by this continued odd behavior. She picked up her purse and keys and headed for the door, hesitating whether or not she should take the kids with her or not. But decided she could go and get back quicker without them.

"I'll be right back, honey," she promised and hurried out the door. The air outside was cool on her face. She felt a little breathless as she got in the car. She looked at her watch. It was almost five. If she was lucky, she could get to the grocery and back without hitting rush hour traffic. She just knew she didn't want to be gone too long.

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The engine crew of A-Shift returned to quarters at 17:13 from a kitchen fire. Mike Stoker backed "Big Red" into her place in the truck bay and killed the engine. Captain Hank Stanley disembarked and wearily headed to his office, noting the absence of the squad. Chet Kelly and Marco Lopez hung up their turnout gear in readiness for the next call and then made for the kitchen. Mike had already started a new pot of coffee. The guys were relaxing when they heard the squad returning.

Johnny seemed to be in good spirits as he bounced through the door. "Hi ya, guys!" he greeted cheerfully. "What's for dinner, Marco?"

Marco looked up in surprise. "I'm not cooking, Johnny."

Johnny gave Marco a puzzled look. "Hmm? I thought you were. So, who's cooking?"

The five firemen looked around each other and realized that it wasn't any of them. The Cap entered the room just then.

"Well, men, what's for dinner?" he asked as he rubbed his hands eagerly together.

"Huh, Cap?" Chet asked. "Did you assign anyone for chow?"

"Well, or course I did." He looked at each of them. "Who is it?"

Five shoulders shrugged in unison.

"Well, I could have sworn I assigned somebody," he muttered. Just then they heard a car passing the day room to the back parking lot. All six men hurried out to the back in time to see Mrs. Stanley arrive in her Edsel.

"Hi Hank. Hi Guys!" she called from the open window. Hank went over and opened the door for her.

"Hi Em! What brings you here?" She gave him a puzzled look.

"Hank, did you forget you asked me to bring you guys dinner tonight?"

Hank blushed with embarrassment.

"I'm afraid I did, sweetheart," he admitted.

"Well, no harm done. You guys want to help me with this food?"

"Sure thing, Mrs. Stanley," Mike offered and all of them surrounded the car to carry in the makings for a lasagna dinner. In moments they had the lasagna warming in the oven and the table was set as Emily Stanley tossed the salad together. Marco went to work on getting the garlic bread ready for the broiler. Soon everything was ready and the men and the captain's wife sat down to eat.

Though no one said it, each of them was hoping for an uninterrupted dinner. Surprisingly, the meal passed quietly and the men thoroughly enjoyed it. Brice even offered to do clean up.

Mrs. Stanley excused herself so that she could get back to the girls. The Caps daughters were teenagers now so they didn't need to have a baby-sitter but they still liked keeping their eyes on them.

Gage settled into the couch next to Henry and hoped to watch some TV. The phone rang and Marco answered it on the second ring. "LA County Fire station 51. Marco Lopez speaking."

"Hey! Hi Roy! How's it going? Yeah, he's here. Hold on."

Johnny looked up at the mention of Roy's name and got up to take the receiver from Marco.

"Hi Roy," he greeted.

"Hi Junior. Ya miss me?"

Johnny could hear the stress in Roy's voice. "You okay, Roy?"

"Yeah, but I'm going crazy just sitting around the house! Any chance you can come by here tomorrow and break me outta here?"

"Sure. I've got something I have to do right after shift but I could be there by noon if that's okay?"

"That'd be great Johnny. Thanks. See ya then."

"Bye Roy." Johnny hung up the phone. He could really empathize with what Roy was going through. The pain, the cast, the itching, the discomfort and being stuck inside. Yeah, he really understood where Roy was coming from.

Marco started to ask Johnny about Roy when the klaxon sounded and the men of Station 51 responded to another call.

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She entered the house through the kitchen this time. She wanted to avoid a confrontation. It had taken her ten minutes to get to the store and over an hour to get back. There had been an accident and she had been tied up in the traffic. She hoped Roy wouldn't be too upset. She put the beer in the fridge and removed one to take into the living room.

He looked up at her with sullen eyes. "Where the hell have you been?" he roared. She stood out of his reach within the door frame of the kitchen.

"There was an accident. I was stuck," she said simply and stretched forth the new beer. He leaned forward and grabbed the bottle.

"What the hell is this!" he screamed. He could tell the bottle was warm. He threw it at her. She ducked as it sailed past her and slammed into the counter, shattering glass and beer covered the floor. She flinched and inadvertently jumped towards the recliner. "You stupid bitch!'

Her eyes filled with terror as she watched him pick up one of his crutches and hold like a baseball bat. She cowered against the wall. He swung the crutch wildly at her. She screamed.

"What are you doing! Stop it! Please!" she pleaded.

He was screaming at her. He pulled himself up and out of the chair. He was in a rage and out of control. He swung the crutch again and again until she stopped crying. She wasn't moving now. She didn't have a chance. He stood there breathing hard, the adrenaline high taking its affect.

Chris had unlocked his door and silently slipped down the hall to peek into the living room and watched in horror as he saw his Dad repeatedly hit his Mom. Tears streamed down his cheeks. His Dad hadn't seen him so he slipped quietly back to his parent's bedroom. He knew what he had to do but it didn't want to. He dialed "0" and fearfully watched the hall.

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The call came in as they were returning to the station. "Station 51. Woman down. Unknown type rescue. Police dispatched. 1042 West Cordova. One-Zero-Four-Two West Cordova. Time out 18:46.

Brice flipped on the lights and sirens and Johnny noted the address. Mike responded in kind and flashing lights and sirens filled the neighborhood as they rushed to the scene. The police stopped them a block from the address.

Johnny leaned out the passenger window and motioned Vince over. "What's going on, Vince?"

"Well, we're not sure. A kid called it in. Looks like a domestic violence. He thinks his Dad killed his mom. The operator tried to keep him on the line but the phone went dead. So we don't know what's going on inside the house right now."

Brice looked down the street. Only one house was totally dark. "Is that the address?"

Vince nodded. "Yeah. We're waiting for the go ahead from the commander. You guys just hang tight."

Johnny picked up the HT and contacted the Cap. "Cap, we might be waiting awhile. Not sure what we got."

"10-4, 51. Keep us informed."

"10-4, Cap." He leaned back in the seat and sighed. "Man, I hate these kind of calls."

"Hopefully, it won't take long," Brice commented.

They waited almost an hour as the police negotiator attempted to contact the occupants of the house. Johnny sat up as he notice a flurry of activity as police officers stormed into the house. It was over in a matter of moments. As Vince waved them in, Brice turned on the engine and sped to the front of the house.

Both he and Johnny ran around to the side to grab their equipment.

"It's pretty bad in there, Johnny," Vince warned. Captain Stanley jogged up to the Squad.

"What do you need, Pal?"

"Standby with the backboard and oxygen. We'll let you know."

They hurried into the house. Johnny's assessment of the living room shocked him. The room looked like the aftermath of an earthquake. An officer stood next to the body of the woman. Johnny rushed to her side but the officer just shook his head. He felt for a carotid but she was gone. There was so much blood that there was little hope she could have survived anyway.

Brice had headed up the stairs. He felt his stomach churn as he entered the master bedroom. Two small children, a boy and a girl, lay lifeless on the floor, bludgeoned. He looked up at the young officer near the door, and pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose. "Is there anyone else?"

The officer just shook his head, uncertain. He was still a rookie and at the moment he was just trying to keep his dinner down. Brice pushed past him and met Johnny in the hall. Johnny could tell from the look in his Brice's eyes that he didn't want to go any further.

"Bad?" he asked softly.

Brice nodded. "We'll leave them for the coroner."

"Any sign of the person who did this?" Johnny asked as they turned back to the living room. The homicide detectives had just arrived.

"You guys didn't disturb anything, did ya?" Mike Lawry, the senior partner, sniped as Johnny and Brice grabbed up their equipment.

Johnny gave the man a piercing, sour look. "No," he answered through clenched teeth. As they started to exit a yell came from the basement. The officers dashed to the door and down the steps.

Both Johnny and Brice hesitated for a moment, waiting to see if they would be needed. Minutes passed until, finally one of the officers slowly climbed back up the stairs. It was the rookie and his face was as white as a sheet. He swayed a bit as he reached the hall. Johnny ran over and steadied him and lowered him to sit on the stairs.

"You okay, man?"

The rookie just nodded, weakly. He swallowed hard. His mouth was dry. He felt nauseated. "They never really prepare you for scenes like this, you know?" he whispered hoarsely.

"Yeah, I know."

"I feel like I'm..." he started as his stomach churned. Brice grabbed a wastebasket and thrust it between the officer's knees as he vomited. Finally, he sat there, shaking, trying to regain his composure.

"Brice, why don't to see if we can find this officer some water to drink?" Johnny suggested.

Brice nodded and headed into the kitchen. There was a water cooler in the far corner of the room. He pulled out a cup and filled it from the spigot. As he turned around he stood toe to toe with Detective Lawry.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Lawry yelled at Brice. Brice blinked, took a step back and pushed his glassed back up on his nose with his free hand.

"I think that it's perfectly obvious what I'm doing."

Lawry's blood pressure was rising.

"Are you some kind of a smart ass...." he searched for Brice's name tag..."Brice?"

Brice remained calm. "No, I'm just trying to do my job."

"By tampering with evidence!"

"I don't believe I have jeopardized the crime scene by retrieving a cup of water from that cooler. It's clearly not part of the destruction." Lawry looked beet red. Brice gave him a concerned look. "You may want us to check your blood pressure. Excuse me." With that he passed the angry officer and took the water over to the highly embarrassed rookie.

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Back at the station, the crew settled in to watch TV before turning in for the night. "Man, Brice--I thought that homicide detective was going to blow a gasket on us!" Johnny crowed as he poured himself a glass of milk.

"You and me both. That was such an awful scene. Can you imagine anyone killing his family like that?" Brice shuddered at the thought.

Johnny shook his head. "It was really weird."

"Hey, guys, listen to this!" Chet called as the TV anchor turned the news to a segment about their last call.

Johnny and Brice walked over and watched as the reporter covered the crime scene.

"Hey look, there's the squad!" Marco pointed out.

"...it appears that it was the stress of a recent injury and being out of work that drove Roy Johnson over the edge, first killing his wife Loraine, then their two children, Christopher, age 9 and Linda, age 7 before he hung himself in his basement workshop. Authorities believe..."

Johnny turned away from the set and took his glass back to sink and rinsed it out. He pondered the events of the evening. That family was so much like Roy's family. It was sobering. He was grateful that they had such good resources through the department. It saddened him to think that this family was gone. Gone without a chance.

He closed his eyes and tried to wipe the scene from his mind. He couldn't do it yet --that would take time. He turned and headed for the dorm. He decided that maybe he'd go directly over to Roy's first thing in the morning. His partner needed him. His errands could wait.

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The END

"Without a Chance" ©1999 Nancy F. Thysell. "Emergency!" and its characters © Mark VII Productions. All rights reserved. No infringement on any copyrights or trademarks is intended or should be inferred. This is a work of fiction and any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.