January Gets Her Gunn

Chapter 5-2

For crying out loud, she’s a damn gun nut. I might have known. Thad glowered out his side window in disgust. “I suppose you belong to the NRA?”

“Yep, a Life Member since my nineteenth birthday. That’s the year I completed my final leg for Distinguished for rifle. Why, is there something wrong with that?”

“No, nothing wrong. Why didn’t you put all that down on your application?”

“I put down that I was an NRA member along with the other organizations I belong to. There were no questions concerning my skill levels in firearms, or anything else, for that matter.”

“I must’ve missed it,” Thad grumbled. Hell, I’m never going to catch her off guard again.

“Tom Twelve - Thirteen, You have a Nine-Six-Two, possible Six-Three. Westbound off-ramp at Centennial. A semi has crashed into a line of cars. AHP and fire department notified. Peter Ten - Eleven, you copy?”

Thad’s heart skipped a beat. He reached for the microphone as he heard the traffic cars respond. Good God Almighty, a multiple pile-up with a possible fatality. He glanced at Farrell. She had already turned on the pursuit lights and siren as she drove south on Garfield. Thad notified Dispatch that Peter Six was in route. He could hear sirens off to his right, to the West, and then air-horn blasts as fire trucks responded down Centennial Avenue.

When they arrived at the scene, it looked like something out of a Technicolor horror movie. It appeared there had been ten or more vehicles on the off-ramp waiting for the traffic light to change, when the semi came roaring down the ramp. At least two cars had been pushed into Centennial and hit by north bound vehicles. The semi tractor rested on top of two cars and there appeared to be other cars under the overturned trailer. Flashing lights from police, fire, and rescue vehicles gave a bizarre illumination to the scene. People rushed about shouting, and above all the smell of hot metal, oil, battery acid mixed with other pungent odors created an impression of utter chaos.

January took in the scene with a quick scan. Now I know what Hell is like. She hurried over to Hal Manley, the senior traffic officer. Hal was busy informing a fire captain what he needed from the hose companies. He nodded as January approached. As soon as he was through with the fire captain, he turned to her with a wan smile.

“So Gunn skates again, huh? Oh well, I guess getting the dirty jobs is a rookie’s fate.”

“Yeah, he’s mad at me anyway.” Jan sighed.

“Okay, Jan, here’s what I want you to do.” Manley gave her detailed instructions. When January started to move off, he smiled. “Jan, I’ll owe you one, before tonight is over. If you need help, holler, Manny or I will get to you ASAP. Okay?”

“Thanks, Hal, I’ll remember.” January started walking briskly up the off-ramp. She noted how Manny Alvarez had marked each vehicle’s location. Geez, even after they get the vehicles moved, they’ll be hours taking measurements.

Alvarez was checking the people in a smashed sedan as January passed. She stopped at the next vehicle, and using a yellow lumber crayon marked where the vehicle’s left tires were on the asphalt. She also wrote a big #7 on the pavement. Then she checked inside the sedan. A man lay on his right side on the front seat, his face smeared with blood. As best she could tell, he wasn’t breathing, nor did he respond to her enquiries. She reached into the car and touched the man’s hand. Cold! He’s dead. There’s no cold like that.

The chill seemed to flow right up her arm. She tightened her grip on her clip board, where she quickly noted the color, make, and model of the car. Then she scribbled there was one male occupant, deceased. She moved to the next vehicle, a pickup. She marked the truck’s location and number and then looked in the cab.

The male driver was leaning back, his face also bloody. He seemed to be blowing bloody bubbles. Jan shone her flashlight in the driver’s eyes. He made no reaction to light.

“Police officer, sir, can you hear me?” Still no reaction. January spoke into her handy-talkie microphone. “Peter Six Bravo, Vehicle Number Eight. Male driver bleeding profusely from multiple wounds on face and head, breathing, no reaction to light or my voice.”

“Ten Four, Six Bravo, we’re on our way. Company Two Rescue.”

January then noticed a woman lying on the seat. At least she couldn’t see any blood. “Police Officer, ma’am, can you hear me?”

“Yes.” It was a whisper, so faint January barely heard it.

“Are you hurt?”

“Yes, my neck and back.” This time the voice was a little stronger.

“Stay still. Medical Rescue will be here in a minute. You’re going to be in good hands.”

“Oh God, I can’t move.” The woman groaned. “I’m in trouble.”

“What do you mean you’re in trouble?”

“The driver isn’t my husband.”

Oh, s**t, what am I going to tell her? It’ll all come out in the open, probably sooner than later.

Before January could say anything the woman blurted. “My husband doesn’t care. It’s my holier-than-thou father. He’s always going on about appearances, but he’ll make this into a federal case. Oh, I hope I die.”

“Don’t talk like that. A lot of good people are going to work hard to make you well. Don’t let them down, please. Stay still and hang in there, okay?” The woman didn’t answer. January turned to see three EMTs hurrying toward her. She stepped down the ramp a few feet to meet them.

“There’s also a woman in the truck. She’s awake, but I think she has an injury to her neck or back. She says she can’t move and she wants to die.”

“Okay, officer. We’ll take care of ‘em.” One of the EMT flashed a wan smile as he answered. January nodded and turned to continue up the ramp.

It was at vehicle eleven, a sedan, that January found two badly injured adults in the front seat, a small boy unconscious on the floor between seats, with a young dog between his legs. The dog was clearly badly hurt, yet it was trying to pull itself up to the boy. She called it in.

“Ten Four, Six Bravo, we’re almost to you. County Rescue.”

Good God, they’ve got the county EMTs out. Figures, an accident this big. January noticed three more EMTs hurrying up the ramp towards her. She turned and moved on to the next vehicle and started marking wheel locations.

“Officer, could you come back here and help us with the dog?” As January looked up, one of the EMTs beckoned.

What am I going to do with the dog? I don’t know anything about taking care of hurt animals. January walked back to vehicle #11.

“I guess you’ll have to put the animal down.” The EMT didn’t look too happy.

“You mean shoot it?” Her stomach lurched, and her hands felt numb, too weak to grip her pistol.

“Yeah, there’s nothing we can do for it. We got it out of the car, but it keeps trying to go back. We need to take care of the people.” The EMT shook his head. “I don’t like the idea any better than you do, but something has to be done.”

“Okay, where’s the dog?”

“Over there.” He pointed to the far side of the automobile. “Gary’s holding it right now.”

As January made her way across the wreckage, she called dispatch and requested assistance from animal control. She knelt by the dog and started petting it and holding it down. The EMT gave her a wan smile as he stood and moved away.

“Okay, little guy. Lay there and be quiet. Your people are going to be all right and you too. Help’s coming.” She stroked the puppy, knowing she lied and hating it.

“Peter Six Bravo.”

“Six Bravo, go.”

“Animal Control is a contract with the City and County by the SPCA. They work eight to four week days, and won’t come out. Ten-Four?”

“Ten-Four.” God that sucks. “How about a vet? I’ll pay.”

“No vet has ever come out in the past, but I’ll try.”

“Ten-Four Two-Eight-Three and thanks.”

“I’ll get a vet, Officer.”

January looked up to see a husky nondescript civilian man standing near her. “You can get a vet?”

“Yes ma’am. I’ll be back in ten or fifteen minutes with Doctor Bennet. I work for him part-time, and I know he’ll come.”

“Okay, you do that. And tell him I’ll pay for it.”

“Yes ma’am,” The man turned and hurried off.

Nearly fifteen minutes passed. The EMTs were loading the three victims from the car into an ambulance that had slowly backed up along the far side of the ramp. Dispatch had called back and said he had been unable to find a vet that would come out. Most had said that they would take care of the animal if it was brought to their clinics.

January began to wonder if she was going to have to shoot the dog. She tried to start steeling herself for the task. The pitiful animal had to be in agonizing pain, yet it wanted to go to its little friend. It seemed too cold to shoot such a loyal, brave creature. She’d be haunted sick by it if she had to shoot that dog.

Then she saw the scruffy-looking young man hurrying towards her, followed by a second young man in T-shirt and jeans with tousled hair. Obviously he had been rousted out of bed.

“Hi, I’m John Bennett. Make that Doctor Bennett, DMV. Still forget sometimes.” The tousled-haired man knelt beside January, setting down a black bag. Quickly he ran his hands over the dog. “I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do for this little guy. It looks like his spine is fractured. He’s probably got severe internal injuries as well. I think the best thing to do is put him to sleep. Who are the owners?”

“I don’t know their names yet, but they’re severely injured and have just been transported to the hospital. I don’t think they’re in any condition to make a decision.”

“No problem, we’ll do our professional best and make it for them. I’ll give the dog a shot. He’ll just go off to sleep and no more pain.” The vet looked at January with a slight, gently sad smile.

“Will you at least check him over first? I’ll take care of the bill.”

The vet hesitated. “All right, I don’t think there’s much hope but I’ll try.” He opened his bag and took out a small case and a bottle. “I’ve got to sedate him before we can move him, at least. Bobby can hold him if you don’t want to.”

“It’s all right. I’ll stick with this little guy. He knows me now.” January steadied the small furry body as carefully as she could, trying to send thoughts of comfort and peace.

The vet used a small razor to shave a patch on one forefoot. He filled a syringe and injected it into the foot. In a moment he used a stethoscope. After a few seconds, he looked up at January.

“Our little friend won’t feel any more pain for a while now. He’s gone to sleep. I can’t promise he’ll ever wake up, but I’ll try.” The vet closed his bag and straightened up.

January gave the dog one last caress before she too stood. She blinked back the tears and noticed the vet had them too. She reached into her left breast pocket and took out a business card. Quickly she wrote on the back of the card and offered it to the vet. “My home address is on the back. Send me the bill, please.”

John Bennett took the card and read it. “There won’t be any bill, Officer Farrell. I can’t charge for doing what I swore to do, take the best care of God’s critters that I can. To me it’s a sacred duty.”