Three hours earlier.
Nov. 2nd, 2006 12:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
secret_history“Nine-one-one, what’s the nature of your emergency?”
“Umm, yeah, hello?”
“Hello, you’ve reached nine-one-one. Do you have an emergency?”
“Uh, yeah. Is this nine-one-one?” the voice belonged to a teenager, a girl, Michaela guessed, not older than fifteen or sixteen.
“Yes it is. What’s your emergency?”
“Uh, I’m at the Old Port, and I think there’s a guy who’s hurt. I’m on my cell.”
“Okay, we’re going to help you out. Where are you, exactly?” Michaela kept her tone professional, but brought it down a notch to reassure the girl.
“Uh, I’m, like, next to the IMAX theatre. Next to the water?”
“And you say there’s a person who’s hurt?” Michaela prompted her.
“Yeah. We went out for a smoke, and, like, there’s a guy lying on the ground over there, and he’s not moving. What do I do?” the girl sounded near tears.
“You did the right thing by calling,” Michaela assured her. “We’re going to be able to help him. How far away are you from him?”
“I —I don’t know. Maybe a few yards?”
“Can you see any visible injuries? Is he bleeding or anything like that?”
“I can’t see. Maybe? I don’t see anything wrong with him, except he’s not moving.”
“Do you see anything around him? Electrical wires, or anything he could have tripped over or anything that might have hit him?”
“No, I don’t see anything. He’s just lying there.”
“I need you to look around and make sure there’s nothing that can hurt you, either. There’s no wires, or broken glass, nothing at all?”
“No, no I don’t see anything.”
“Are you by yourself?”
“No, my friend Megan is here with me. She’s kind of freaked out, though.”
So are you, Michaela thought, but the girl was holding up really well under the pressure so far. “Okay. What’s your name?”
“Sandra.”
“Okay, Sandra. You’re doing really well. I’m going to send an ambulance right now, okay? Don’t hang up the line just yet.” She reached over for her radio. “This is Dispatch. I need one ambulance at the Old Port by the IMAX theatre, next to the water line. We’ve got an adult male lying on the ground, probably unconscious, with no visible sign of external injuries.”
The radio crackled back at her. “Ten-four, Dispatch. Unit 15 en route. We’re on de la Commune now. ETA four minutes.”
Shw switched back to her phone. “Sandra, are you still there?”
“Uh-huh. Yeah.”
“The ambulance is going to be there really soon. Has the guy moved at all?”
“Uh-uh. No. He’s just lying there. I can’t even tell if he’s breathing.”
“Do you think you can go check for me?”
“Uh, I guess so. I know CPR and shit.”
“Can you go do that now for me?” Michaela resisted the impulse to shout at the girl. She was young, and going near an injured or dead person was difficult even for an adult.
“Okay, I’m going. It’s a Chinese guy, I think. Oh, God, I can hear him moaning,” the girl whimpered into the phone.
“That’s okay, Sandra. That means he’s breathing. That’s a good sign. Can you see if he’s got any injuries?”
She heard Sandra’s voice from further away, slightly muffled, as though she was holding the phone against her shoulder. “Hey, um, sir? Can you hear me? Sir?” There was a soft scuffling sound, and a low moan, from much farther away. Then Sandra’s voice came back clear as she picked up the phone again. “He isn’t answering me, but it sounds like he’s kind of conscious. Can you hear him? He’s pretty loud.”
“I can hear him,” Mickey shivered and pulled her sweater closer around her shoulders. She told herself it was because this damned room was always cold, but in reality she’d found that low moaning sound chilling, in spite of the fact that she’d only heard it through the phone, and muffled at that. She wondered if she’d ever get used to the sound of human suffering.
Sandra spoke to the man again. “Sir? I called for an ambulance. We’re going to be getting you some help...” the moaning grew louder, and Michaela guessed that the girl had leaned closer to speak to him. “Sir?”
Mickey jumped as she heard a scream from the other end of the line. “Sandra?” she leaned forward in her chair as though that might make the girl hear her better. “Sandra, are you still there?”
She could hear the sound of scrabbling, and the phone scraped across a rough surface, very likely the pavement. There was more scuffling, and Sandra came back on the line, sobbing.
“Oh God, he bit me!” she hiccupped. “I tried... I wanted... I put my hand on his shoulder and he bit me!” she dissolved into more hysterical tears.
Mickey’s heart raced. “Sandra!” she said sharply. “I need you to get away from him, right now! Don’t touch him anymore. Stay on the phone, okay? Back up until you’re a safe distance away, but don’t hang up!”
She reached for the radio. “This is Dispatch. Send a police unit to the IMAX theatre in the Old Port, near the river. The victim is conscious and has become violent. Proceed with caution.”
“Ten-four. We’re on our way, Mickey.”
“Sandra, how are you doing? Where did he bite you?”
“He bit my hand! Oh, God, it’s bleeding!”
“Hang in there, sweetie, the ambulance is just around the corner. Do you see it coming?”
“I can hear the siren.”
“Good. Can you wave to the paramedics when you see them coming?”
“Yeah. I think that’s them. Hey, over here!” Sandra shouted, holding the cell phone away from her. “Over here!” She spoke into the phone again. “They’re coming. They’ve got a stretcher with them.”
“Good. Don’t hang up, Sandra. Wait until they get there.”
The radio crackled again at that moment. “This is Unit 15. We’re on-site now.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “This is Dispatch. I’ve got a police unit en route, and recommend you wait until they get there unless the guy’s in critical condition. He’s become violent and bitten someone.”
“Copy that. We’ll be careful.”
A moment later her radio announced the arrival of the police car. Sandra raised her voice to be heard above the siren. “The police are here too. I gotta go now. Thanks for everything.”
“No problem, Sandra. You take care now, okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks. Bye!”
The line went dead. Michaela let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding, and put her head in her hands. This wasn’t the worst call she’d ever taken, not by a long, shot, but somehow she felt badly shaken anyway. Maybe it was because she’d put her caller in danger, however inadvertently. She’d almost lost it when Sandra had screamed, but it wasn’t that. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that what had truly unsettled her was the horrible moaning sound coming from the victim. Somehow, hearing it distorted through the phone like that... it had barely sounded human at all, and that was what had disturbed her.
“Tough call?” Sandhya, who had the station across from hers, leaned back in her chair, pausing from setting up her workspace. She usually worked opposite shifts from Mickey, with about an hour’s worth of overlap.
“Yeah. The victim turned out not to be unconscious the way we thought, and he bit my caller.”
“Jesus!”
Mickey laughed nervously. “Tell me about it. He was probably bad-tripping on some kind of drug. Lying face-down on the ground and moaning. I could hear him through the phone. Then he turns and bites the caller, who’s just being a good Samaritan, you know? Shit. Some people.”
“Like a wounded dog,” Sandhya agreed, twisting her long braid around her fingers the way she always did when humanity didn’t live up to her expectations, which was a lot.
“Well, at least I’m off in another twenty minutes,” Mickey glanced at the clock. “Supposing I don’t get another really long call before then. I gotta tell you, I haven’t looked forward to seeing my bed this much in a while.”
Sandhya grinned at her. “Tell you what, I’ll cover your last five minutes. I’m here until midnight anyway.”
“Pulling a longer shift today?”
“Yeah. They offered me overtime, and I’m too broke to refuse,” she admitted with a laugh. “Seems like things have been going a little crazy the last few days. Is it a full moon?”
Mickey grinned back at her. “Must be. There’s no other explanation.”
“Umm, yeah, hello?”
“Hello, you’ve reached nine-one-one. Do you have an emergency?”
“Uh, yeah. Is this nine-one-one?” the voice belonged to a teenager, a girl, Michaela guessed, not older than fifteen or sixteen.
“Yes it is. What’s your emergency?”
“Uh, I’m at the Old Port, and I think there’s a guy who’s hurt. I’m on my cell.”
“Okay, we’re going to help you out. Where are you, exactly?” Michaela kept her tone professional, but brought it down a notch to reassure the girl.
“Uh, I’m, like, next to the IMAX theatre. Next to the water?”
“And you say there’s a person who’s hurt?” Michaela prompted her.
“Yeah. We went out for a smoke, and, like, there’s a guy lying on the ground over there, and he’s not moving. What do I do?” the girl sounded near tears.
“You did the right thing by calling,” Michaela assured her. “We’re going to be able to help him. How far away are you from him?”
“I —I don’t know. Maybe a few yards?”
“Can you see any visible injuries? Is he bleeding or anything like that?”
“I can’t see. Maybe? I don’t see anything wrong with him, except he’s not moving.”
“Do you see anything around him? Electrical wires, or anything he could have tripped over or anything that might have hit him?”
“No, I don’t see anything. He’s just lying there.”
“I need you to look around and make sure there’s nothing that can hurt you, either. There’s no wires, or broken glass, nothing at all?”
“No, no I don’t see anything.”
“Are you by yourself?”
“No, my friend Megan is here with me. She’s kind of freaked out, though.”
So are you, Michaela thought, but the girl was holding up really well under the pressure so far. “Okay. What’s your name?”
“Sandra.”
“Okay, Sandra. You’re doing really well. I’m going to send an ambulance right now, okay? Don’t hang up the line just yet.” She reached over for her radio. “This is Dispatch. I need one ambulance at the Old Port by the IMAX theatre, next to the water line. We’ve got an adult male lying on the ground, probably unconscious, with no visible sign of external injuries.”
The radio crackled back at her. “Ten-four, Dispatch. Unit 15 en route. We’re on de la Commune now. ETA four minutes.”
Shw switched back to her phone. “Sandra, are you still there?”
“Uh-huh. Yeah.”
“The ambulance is going to be there really soon. Has the guy moved at all?”
“Uh-uh. No. He’s just lying there. I can’t even tell if he’s breathing.”
“Do you think you can go check for me?”
“Uh, I guess so. I know CPR and shit.”
“Can you go do that now for me?” Michaela resisted the impulse to shout at the girl. She was young, and going near an injured or dead person was difficult even for an adult.
“Okay, I’m going. It’s a Chinese guy, I think. Oh, God, I can hear him moaning,” the girl whimpered into the phone.
“That’s okay, Sandra. That means he’s breathing. That’s a good sign. Can you see if he’s got any injuries?”
She heard Sandra’s voice from further away, slightly muffled, as though she was holding the phone against her shoulder. “Hey, um, sir? Can you hear me? Sir?” There was a soft scuffling sound, and a low moan, from much farther away. Then Sandra’s voice came back clear as she picked up the phone again. “He isn’t answering me, but it sounds like he’s kind of conscious. Can you hear him? He’s pretty loud.”
“I can hear him,” Mickey shivered and pulled her sweater closer around her shoulders. She told herself it was because this damned room was always cold, but in reality she’d found that low moaning sound chilling, in spite of the fact that she’d only heard it through the phone, and muffled at that. She wondered if she’d ever get used to the sound of human suffering.
Sandra spoke to the man again. “Sir? I called for an ambulance. We’re going to be getting you some help...” the moaning grew louder, and Michaela guessed that the girl had leaned closer to speak to him. “Sir?”
Mickey jumped as she heard a scream from the other end of the line. “Sandra?” she leaned forward in her chair as though that might make the girl hear her better. “Sandra, are you still there?”
She could hear the sound of scrabbling, and the phone scraped across a rough surface, very likely the pavement. There was more scuffling, and Sandra came back on the line, sobbing.
“Oh God, he bit me!” she hiccupped. “I tried... I wanted... I put my hand on his shoulder and he bit me!” she dissolved into more hysterical tears.
Mickey’s heart raced. “Sandra!” she said sharply. “I need you to get away from him, right now! Don’t touch him anymore. Stay on the phone, okay? Back up until you’re a safe distance away, but don’t hang up!”
She reached for the radio. “This is Dispatch. Send a police unit to the IMAX theatre in the Old Port, near the river. The victim is conscious and has become violent. Proceed with caution.”
“Ten-four. We’re on our way, Mickey.”
“Sandra, how are you doing? Where did he bite you?”
“He bit my hand! Oh, God, it’s bleeding!”
“Hang in there, sweetie, the ambulance is just around the corner. Do you see it coming?”
“I can hear the siren.”
“Good. Can you wave to the paramedics when you see them coming?”
“Yeah. I think that’s them. Hey, over here!” Sandra shouted, holding the cell phone away from her. “Over here!” She spoke into the phone again. “They’re coming. They’ve got a stretcher with them.”
“Good. Don’t hang up, Sandra. Wait until they get there.”
The radio crackled again at that moment. “This is Unit 15. We’re on-site now.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “This is Dispatch. I’ve got a police unit en route, and recommend you wait until they get there unless the guy’s in critical condition. He’s become violent and bitten someone.”
“Copy that. We’ll be careful.”
A moment later her radio announced the arrival of the police car. Sandra raised her voice to be heard above the siren. “The police are here too. I gotta go now. Thanks for everything.”
“No problem, Sandra. You take care now, okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks. Bye!”
The line went dead. Michaela let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding, and put her head in her hands. This wasn’t the worst call she’d ever taken, not by a long, shot, but somehow she felt badly shaken anyway. Maybe it was because she’d put her caller in danger, however inadvertently. She’d almost lost it when Sandra had screamed, but it wasn’t that. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that what had truly unsettled her was the horrible moaning sound coming from the victim. Somehow, hearing it distorted through the phone like that... it had barely sounded human at all, and that was what had disturbed her.
“Tough call?” Sandhya, who had the station across from hers, leaned back in her chair, pausing from setting up her workspace. She usually worked opposite shifts from Mickey, with about an hour’s worth of overlap.
“Yeah. The victim turned out not to be unconscious the way we thought, and he bit my caller.”
“Jesus!”
Mickey laughed nervously. “Tell me about it. He was probably bad-tripping on some kind of drug. Lying face-down on the ground and moaning. I could hear him through the phone. Then he turns and bites the caller, who’s just being a good Samaritan, you know? Shit. Some people.”
“Like a wounded dog,” Sandhya agreed, twisting her long braid around her fingers the way she always did when humanity didn’t live up to her expectations, which was a lot.
“Well, at least I’m off in another twenty minutes,” Mickey glanced at the clock. “Supposing I don’t get another really long call before then. I gotta tell you, I haven’t looked forward to seeing my bed this much in a while.”
Sandhya grinned at her. “Tell you what, I’ll cover your last five minutes. I’m here until midnight anyway.”
“Pulling a longer shift today?”
“Yeah. They offered me overtime, and I’m too broke to refuse,” she admitted with a laugh. “Seems like things have been going a little crazy the last few days. Is it a full moon?”
Mickey grinned back at her. “Must be. There’s no other explanation.”
