Page 13 of Justice for JoElla

“Come look.” He was almost to Landon’s truck when he heard a voice behind him and turned.

“We’re coming too. Might need some crowd control or something. See you there,” Mick yelled. Sirens filled the air, and the sky was growing more golden by the minute.

When he got to the station, the guys were already heading out, so he grabbed his go bag and followed the ambulance in his car. “Where the hell were you?” one of his fellow EMTs, Wyatt, asked.

“With my brother and some of the guys. Where’s the commander?”

Frankie, the other EMT, pointed. “Right there.”

Brandon ran and slid to a stop. “Got the page. Where do you want me, sir?”

“They’re setting up a triage right over there. Get over there and help them.”

“Yes, sir.” Go bag in hand, Brandon ran toward the tent. That was when he realized where the fire was.

A retirement center.

A sick feeling balled up in the pit of his stomach. All those elderly people. Were they able to get them out? He heard a voice from some direction that he was sure was Landon’s, and he powered into the tent. “EMTFox. What have we got?”

“Male, approximately age eighty-five, multiple lacerations,” another EMT he’d never seen before barked back.

The old gentleman was frantic. “Where’s Mildred? I have to find Mildred!”

“Sir, sir, calm down. We’re going to help you. The firefighters will find Mildred. Let’s just get you looked at, okay?”

By the time the sun came up, Brandon had tended to over forty people, many with just superficial wounds. Five were seriously injured. Seven were zipped into body bags and the coroner took them away. More were being treated in a couple of other tents, and when theirs cleared, he headed toward the others, checking to see if they needed help and trying to comfort residents who were disoriented and afraid. At around eight thirty, he heard the commander’s voice. “EMTFox!”

Brandon jetted out of the tent. “Yes, sir.”

“You’ve been here since last night. Go home and get some rest. Call your captain as soon as you wake up and report to her. She’ll know where you’ve been and why I sent you home. Hoskins, Marshall, both of you too. Get gone. The new crew coming on has it.” The commander nodded to the three men. “And good work.”

“Thank you, sir,” Wyatt “Froggy” Hoskins answered.

Frankie “Crow” Marshall nodded. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“Thank you, sir.” Brandon nodded too. “Have you seen my brother?”

“I have. LieutenantFox is on the other side of the building, but he’s fine.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The three EMTs walked back toward the ambulance. “You coming to the station?” Wyatt asked.

“Yeah. Dropping my go bag,” Brandon answered.

“Good. Let’s go get something for breakfast and go home,” Frankie suggested.

As he turned to his car, Brandon answered, “Sounds good to me.”

He’d gotten a block from the site and decided he’d better make a phone call. She answered with a tenuous, “Hello?”

“Hey, thought I’d call and let you know that he’s fine. Still at the scene, but the commander had seen him and said he’s okay.”

His sister-in-law sighed through the phone. “Thanks. Oh, were you there?”

“Yeah. Really rough. Been there all night.”

“You should come home and get some rest.”

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