Blue Dream

By Richard S. Griffin

Blue dream is the story of a Helicopter Paramedic who, through a series of strange events and a transformation, becomes leader of a rebellion against a future Dictator of the World.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 20, 2016
• ISBN: 9781483574165

Book preview

Evolution

Chapter I

The Flight

The sultry Brandy Underwood arrived at work and stepped through the door.

Good morning, Jim. I didn’t know I was working with you today.

Jim was sitting in his usual spot on the sofa.

Hello, Brandy, you’re looking hot as ever.

Brandy blushed.

Oh stop, you know I’ve gained all this weight since getting pregnant.

Like five pounds is a lot of weight? Jim smirked.

Brandy looked perturbed.

It’s more like seven, and it is to me.

Jim, jealous of her many admirers asked, By the way, since you have all those boyfriends. . . .

Just then the door opened.

Rico! Jim and Brandy shouted at once.

Hello, my friends. So, we have Brandy, the hottest little flight nurse ever, and Mr. James Clarus, medic extraordinaire, Rico said. Looks like we have the A team here today.

You got it, Rico, Jim said, pointing and winking in a sly manner to signal his agreement.

Where do you feel like flying today? Brandy asked.

Nowhere until I get a safety nap in. I’m beat like a bad dog. Rico looked as if he had been drinking all night.

I feel you; I could use one, too. Jim looked a little party-weary as well.

Me, too, Brandy chimed in. She rose to leave; the two men took the opportunity to lean out the doorway and watch as Brandy’s perfect little butt sashayed down the hall towards the nurses room.

Air Rescue was one of many air medical companies in Arizona, which was an unregulated air medical state. Anyone with enough money could plop an aircraft down and go into business hauling people to a hospital of their choice for a minimum nominal fee of $20,000.

Air Rescue was one of the oldest and best air medical companies in the business. It held its employees to high standards and prided itself on only employing the best.

James Clarus -- Jim to his friend -- was one of the best of Air Rescue’s medics with more than ten years of critical care experience in both street and hospital environments. He was a former military medic and had seen just about every possible insult a human body can endure. But he was about to see too much.

Brandy Underwood was the sexiest nurse in the company. Although she had the good looks that turned the toughest men to sweethearts, she also had the medical skills to stabilize poor souls so badly injured they were circling the drain, and give them a fighting chance to live.

The personality of the pilot du jour, Rico Dewey, wasn’t so clear cut. Nobody knew his real background, not even his best friend, James Clarus. The assumption was that he had some sort of mercenary background and had to leave his homeland due to some sort of problem. The speculation about that problem ranged from political intrigue to criminal offenses.

Rico was the best pilot in the company, so nobody really cared too much about his past. He was the type of pilot who can put you at ease no matter how hairy the scene or how bad the weather.

Air Rescue Base No. 50 -- AR 50 for short -- was the most rural base in the company. The usual flight time for the average medical run was two hours. The base mostly transported traffic accident victims off the interstate and medical patients from the numerous house trailers that littered the desert from Phoenix to California.

Staff quarters at AR 50 consisted of a three-bedroom house located in a small farming town 50 miles west of Phoenix.

The helicopter was just outside the house on a fenced-in concrete pad with faded paint marking the compass directions. A mechanic’s shed and fuel trailer completed the functional area of operation.

The AR 50 crew was sleeping soundly in their beds when the alarm sounded.

BEEEEP . . . . AR 50, AR 50, you’re being requested to the scene, I-10 at mile marker 68, of a multiple-vehicle rollover with unknown number of patients. This will be a multi-rotor scene. AR 50 time out 0910.

Rico popped straight up in bed, radio in hand. He mustered a very professional reply, Air Rescue 50 copies launch, and proceeded out the pilot’s bedroom door. Let’s go, kiddies, he bellowed, and he pounded on Jim’s and Brandy’s doors as he passed them.

Jim’s time in the Army had accustomed him to being suddenly awakened, so the radio launch was just another part of the day for him. He put on his flight suit and boots, and headed for nurses door to make sure Brandy was awake. She was normally slow in getting up and being pregnant made matters worse. Come on, preggo, we got lives to save, Jim joked as he pounded on Brandy’s door.

Brandy replied with a sleepy, I’m coming already.

I’ve heard that one before, Jim joked.

Very funny, smart ass, she retorted.

Rico had the blades of the bright red Scorpion Eurocopter turning as Jim and Brandy stepped onto the helipad. They slipped their helmets on and clipped their safety harnesses as Rico did his checks for lift-off.

You guys ready in the back?

Yeah, let’s go!

Air Rescue 50 to operations.

Operation go.

Air Rescue 50 lifting for the scene, three onboard, two hours on fuel, 25 minutes to the scene.

Operations copy

Okey dokey boys and girls, here we go.

Rico pulled pitch and the Scorpion rose rapidly, blowing debris on the pad in all directions. He did a pedal turn to the left, pushed forward on the cyclic while raising the collective and they headed off toward the accident scene.

About ten minutes into the flight, Jim decided to bust Rico’s balls a bit. Can’t you make this French piece of crap go any faster?

I’m almost at redlining now; we’re doing 140 knots ground speed, Rico said. What do you want from me?

I know man, I’m just busting your balls, Jim said. I know you’re the best pilot in the company and if anyone can get us anywhere fast, it’s you.

Rico pulled his helmet mic closer to his mouth. Brandy’s awfully quiet back there. What are you doing, Brandy?

Jim looked over at her; she sat with her head leaned up against the window. She’s still trying to finish the rest of her safety nap before we get to the scene, Jim said.

Brandy’s eyes opened. Well, I was trying to, if you two would ever shut up.

Jim suddenly remembered his question from this morning. Now that you’re up, I never finished asking who your baby’s father is.

Well, I’ve narrowed it down to five.

Five! Rico and Jim shouted at the same time.

Yeah, it’s between three firefighters and two pilots, Brandy said.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jim saw Rico wince at the mention of pilots.

I’m hoping I can get on one of those talk shows where they do the paternity testing. Those DNA test are expensive and with five to do . . . No, I’m just kidding, I know who the father is, but I’m not telling yet.

Jeez! Jim shouted.

You see that?

Jim said recoiling from his window as a shadow flew by almost faster than the eye could see.

Damn birds trying to kill us all. Jim added.

Rico swerved at the last moment to avoid the collision. Brandy, still in the twilight between sleep and wakefulness, looked into the air as if watching an invisible movie and said, It would be ironic to be killed by a bird while flying, but if reincarnation is true maybe we could do a better job of living our next life.

The radio crackled on.

Air Rescue 50, your ground contact will be Engine 147 on alpha 001.

Rico replied with his usual professional coolness, Air Rescue 50 good copy. Engine 147 this is Air Rescue 50, we’re about 5 minutes out, request L Z and patient info."

Air Rescue 50 this is Engine 147, we’re putting you down on the highway in between our engine and the sheriff car. No obstructions and the wind is calm. I have no patient info at this time, but I think we have three fatalities and about five others that need to be flown.

Air Rescue 50, good copy, Rico blurted out, and after un-keying his mic added, probably a drunk.

Jim said Yeah, in his nonchalant manner brought on from years of seeing highway carnage. Brandy was still trying to become fully conscious while fumbling to don her trauma gloves.

You guys ready in the back? Rico asked. He already knew the answer, and didn’t care what it was because he could land safely with this crew no matter what. They all worked together that well.

yep, was the response from both in the back. Just get us down so we can go back to base and finish our nap, their tones implied.

The Scorpion set down with barely a quiver. Brandy was out in a flash with the big drug bag. She made it around to Jim’s side before he could get out. Brandy grabbed the trauma bag and Jim took only the blood pressure cuff.

Brandy was somewhat of a tomboy and didn’t mind carrying the equipment even though she was pregnant. Jim often grabbed something off her to ease the load, even if she protested the special treatment.

As they approached the scene, Jim felt something was different, something wasn’t right. There were firefighters wandering in every direction and not one of them noticed the flight crew approaching.

AR 50 was first helicopter on the scene, and as the crew grew closer to the wreckage, they realized why they were not noticed. This was the most horrific scene Jim had ever been on, and he had been to war.

They were walking through something wet and slippery. At first Jim thought it was oil or some other fluid from the vehicles. Then as he looked down, the horror struck. They were walking in dark red, venous blood -- more blood pooled on the ground than he had ever seen. It was almost as if a tanker truck carrying blood had burst and drained its cargo on the road.

There were various body parts lying in every direction they turned, most not identifiable without close inspection. There was a charred body lying on its back in the center of the median. The limbs were half burned off, and the rest was a blackened skeleton. The body was still smoldering and the brush around it was on fire. Even though the area was crawling with firefighters, no one seemed interested in putting the fire out.

There was another body with the top of its head knocked off, and a victim with its brains splattered two feet away. Another lady, impaled by a tree limb, looked like a botched crucifixion done by a rookie Roman soldier.

As she reached the first group of firefighters, Brandy recognized one of them as Nick Johnson. Brandy felt he should be listed under the dictionary definition of stud - tall, dark, handsome and all that. Johnson was treating a young boy who had no obvious external injuries beside some abrasions with dried blood.

Jim and Brandy asked, You guys alright?

Yeah, we’re good. Why don’t you take this one. He’s pretty stable, but he lost consciousness. We have plenty of help coming and we need you to get off the scene quick. Nick Johnson said calmly. The crew accepted the patient. Brandy received a report from Nick while Jim did a rapid trauma survey. Jim walked to the boy’s head to start his assessment. There was a blanket lying on the ground near the boy. As Jim started his assessment, he felt something under his foot. Looking down, he realized that he was standing on the hand of a dead body that had been covered by the blanket. Jim tucked the dead person’s hand back under the blanket and turned his attention back to young boy he was assessing.

Jim wrinkled his face. Brandy, I don’t hear lung sounds on the left.

Brandy leaped to Jim’s side and verified that the boy had no lung sounds on his left side. She ordered, Dart him, which meant to insert a needle into the chest to relieve the pressure caused by the collapsed lung. The collapsed lung had developed into a life-threatening condition that required surgical intervention.

The ground crew had only put the patient on a backboard with a cervical collar. They had not provided an IV or oxygen and they had not caught the collapsed lung. This boy was dying right in front of Brandy and Jim, they had a lot to do if they were going to save him.

The boy lost consciousness and stopped breathing. After Jim inserted a 14-gauge needle into the boy’s chest, he went to the boy’s head to insert an endotracheal tube to help the boy breathe.

Brandy looked for an IV site in the boy’s arms, but had no success. She decided to start a central line in the left subclavian vein. She found the large vein with no problem. Jim got the cardiac monitor and hooked it up; it showed the boy to be in asystole. The crew started chest compressions and advanced life support procedures.

After the first injection of epinephrine, the medics got a rhythm on the monitor and a weak radial pulse. The boy was loaded onto a stretcher and transported to the helicopter. Rico had kept the helicopter running and was ready to lift as soon as the crew strapped in. Jim was seated directly behind the stretcher at the boy’s head for ease of airway management. Rico looked back at Jim and waited for him to put on his helmet so Jim could hear him through the intercom.

Dude, what happened out there? It looks like a bomb went off, Rico asked.

Before Jim could answer, Brandy relayed the report she had received.

Nick told me a carload of drunken illegals ran into this boy and his mother. That was his mother next to him under the blanket. Both cars rolled, the boy and his mother were ejected, the illegals’ car exploded and started the fire. Then came a chain reaction of five other cars colliding.

Rico keyed his mic. You guys ready in the back?

A simultaneous Yeah, was the reply.

Rico pulled up on the collective, made his radio calls and soon they were enroute to the trauma center, a 35-minute flight.

Brandy prepared medications to keep the boy sedated. Jim was still breathing for the boy with the bag-valve-mask connected to 15 liters of oxygen. While Brandy injected the meds, Jim noticed the boy’s oxygen level on the monitor was dropping and the pulse rate was rising. The bag became increasingly hard to squeeze; Jim knew that the needle decompression he had performed to relieve the boy’s chest tension had clotted off. Brandy, his tension pneumo is back. You’re going to have to put a chest tube in, Jim said.

Brandy knew this was going to be difficult. The boy needed to have the chest tube inserted on his left side, which was next to the aircraft door. There was less than a foot of space to work in, and she would have to crawl over both Jim and the boy to gain the access she needed to put the chest tube in.

She unzipped the trauma bag and started rifling through all the compartments, looking for the things she needed. She had done the check-off of the trauma bag hundreds of times, but when the adrenalin is pumping a person can start to forget everything. The crews joked about this in medical jargon calling it, catecholamine toxicity. She found all of the equipment she needed, and laid over Jim’s lap to gain the position she needed to reach the left side of the boy’s chest.

Even though Jim’s concentration was on saving this boy’s life, he could not help being aroused by the feel of Brandy lying on him. Her breasts rubbed against him as she wriggled into position. He could feel the warmth of her body though the flight suit. The aroma of her freshly washed silky long hair was an aphrodisiac that brought fantasies of another place and another time.

A shout of I got it, brought Jim back to reality. Brandy asked Jim for tape to secure the tube in place. As she secured the tube she blurted out, Damn, that’s a lot of blood. Hand me some towels, Jim, and how are his vitals?

Jim checked the monitor. oxygen saturation is rising, but the pulse is still in the 130s.

Brandy looked concerned. I think he’s bleeding out in the chest, and maybe in the belly too. She hung a second liter of saline and said, Hang in there, little guy.

Jim’s heart sank as he watched the cute little boy’s brown skin become pale and cold to the touch. He asked Rico, What’s our ETA?

About 10 minutes.

Even though Air Rescue 50 was the fastest Scorpion in the fleet, it was not the fastest type of EMS helicopter. Everyone in AR 50 that morning wished they had a faster aircraft.

Brandy was hanging a third liter of saline when Jim looked over at the monitor and noticed the boy’s heart rate was dropping. This was a very bad sign meaning that the boy’s condition is deteriorating into decompensated shock. Jim looked at Brandy.

He’s crashing.

What’s his heart rate?

Jim looked down to see. 60s and falling.

Brandy’s only comment was, Damn! She knew that the only hope for this boy was surgical. He was bleeding internally and this could only be fixed in the operating room. There was nothing else they could do in the air. If they gave more fluids, they would only thin the blood and make him bleed out faster or produce a condition in which the blood loses its ability to clot. Even if they did CPR to increase heart rate, they would only be pushing the blood out of the internal wounds faster.

The intercom crackled on. Rico’s voice rang hope in their ears. Landing in one minute.

This is going to be a hot off-load, Jim informed Rico.

Rico answered back with a compliant, No problem.

Security was there to meet the crew with a hospital stretcher. They got the boy off the AR 50 Scorpion and quickly into the elevator that took them to the trauma room.

The elevator ride seemed to take forever, almost as if they were going backward in time. Jim’s and Brandy’s eyes darted back and forth between checks on the boy’s condition and anxious stares at each other. Jim was still using the bag valve mask to breathe for the boy. The monitor showed the heart rate in low 50s. Hopefully the boy had enough blood left to make it to the trauma room where they could start a blood transfusion. They did not carry blood on the helicopter because there was no way of controlling the temperature to keep it from spoiling.

Finally the doors to the elevator opened and they set off down the