Page 2 of Sparking Sara

“I just wanted you to—”

The alarm sounds, and I pull the phone away from my ear to listen to dispatch. It’s an MVA.Just fucking great.

I hop off the bunk. “Pen, I have to go.”

“I heard. MVA. Just … just go save a life, Den. You’ve got this.”

I hang up without responding. I put my phone in my pocket and run down to the rig. I’m pulling on my turnout gear, and I catch Geoff Nolan staring at me through the open doors of the truck as he suits up on the other side. He’s shaking his head like he knows I’m going to be useless.

I pull myself up into the truck and sit down, looking anywhere but at him.

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and it’ll just be a fender bender,” he says. He looks away. “Damn, I miss Jenson.”

I don’t say anything. It sucks being the guy nobody wants to go on calls with. It’s a long, silent ride to the scene of the accident.

“Fuck,” I hear from the front seat.

“What is it, Lieutenant?” Geoff asks.

“Goddamn car’s about to fall off the fucking bridge.”

“Shit,” Geoff says, giving me a look. A look like he’s pissed.

“I’m fine,” I say. “Don’t worry.”

“That’s the problem,” he says. “We shouldn’t have to worry about you, Andrews. This will be hard enough as it is without having to babysit your ass.”

The rig comes to a stop. Lt. Franks quickly assesses the situation after we get out. “Single MVA.” He points to Nolan and me. “You two, see if you can get to the passengers. Jones and I will get the chains and blocks and shore it up. Do not attempt a rescue until we have the vehicle secured.”

“Lieutenant, are you sure you want Andrews on this one?” Nolan asks. “Maybe he could direct traffic or something.”

“Cut the shit,” he says. “We all have jobs to do and Denver is no exception.”

The ambulance pulls up behind us. Lt. Franks tells the paramedics to stand down because it’s too dangerous to try to access the victims.

I look at the mangled car and try to remember to breathe. One of the rear tires is still spinning, like the accelerator is being pressed. The other rear tire is completely missing and there are various car parts scattered across the road. Shattered glass litters the concrete, and it looks like the trunk of the car got ripped off and is standing on end.

“Oh, my God,” a lady says, running up behind us. “I saw the whole thing. It’s like the car bounced off one side of the bridge and then crashed into the other. It happened out of nowhere.”

“Probably blew a tire,” Nolan says. “Ma’am, I need you to stand back.”

I hear a scream from the passenger seat. My adrenaline spikes, but I’m also relieved. Screaming means life. Someone is alive.

There is no way to get along the side of the car as it’s hanging off the edge through the suspension rods of the bridge. And even if we could, our weight might cause the car to plummet into the water fifty feet below.

My mind keeps wanting to put my parents in the front seat of the car. What really happened when they were trapped? Were they conscious? Could they talk to each other? Did they know they were going to die? Did one of them have to watch the other die first?

I hear another scream from the car. I lean over and put my hands on my knees, trying to keep myself from getting sick all over the roadway.

“Fucking rookie,” I hear someone murmur behind me. Probably Nolan.

I stand up straight and take a deep breath. This isn’t the first MVA I’ve had to deal with over the past few months. I’ve been on the scene of dozens. I just don’t understand why it isn’t getting any easier. Maybe all the talk about me is warranted. Maybe I’ll never be able to handle it. No wonder nobody wants to give me a permanent position.

God, I’m pathetic.

“Okay. Now!” Lt. Franks shouts, motioning for us to check the victims while he stands back to make sure the blocks under the bumper can hold our weight.

“We’ll have to access from the back,” Nolan says. “Grab the window punch.”

---