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<blockquote data-quote="Desdichado" data-source="post: 1238310" data-attributes="member: 2205"><p style="text-align: center">"Exit 23"</p> <p style="text-align: center">III.</p><p></p><p>Jane and the doctor left poor Danny to his own devices and ran back inside the bathroom. Dr. Akens had moved a little bit of the rubble, after hearing a moan, he said, and now a foot was exposed under the fallen ceiling tiles, attached to a leg that extended into the pile of debris. He and the photographer had rapidly been trying to remove material from the pile to investigate. The state trooper and Dr. Neary pitched in, and the pile quickly was spread to the side. As they went through the material, it started to get red and bloodstained. The four were a bit nervous about what they would find underneath it. Another groan prompted them to redouble their efforts.</p><p></p><p>Soon they had uncovered the body of the balding man in a suit. In icicle was impaled in his leg, and another in his side, and savage cuts across his body looked like bear mauling damage. He was still groaning from time to time, though, and his breathing was shallow. Dr. Neary made an attempt to clean him up somewhat and stop the bleeding. His breathing eased a little, and he made a brief foray into semi-consciousness -- "so... cold..." he whispered, before passing out again.</p><p></p><p>Dr. Neary and Jane carefully put him on a bent, but more or less stable piece of the stall's metal wall and carried him out of the freezing bathroom and into the restaurant. Mabel looked away with a green tinge to her face as the injured man was laid out on a table. "Oh, my!" mumbled Don Truit, looking away from his laptop. Will Wheeler's eyes went wide, but he still scowled at Jane, especially when she started barking orders.</p><p></p><p>"Stay here with him; I'm going to try and call for a paramedic or something," she said. "Don't let anyone touch him or move him."</p><p></p><p>"Hello?" said Ned. "I am a doctor, remember? And how do you think anyone's going to get here through this storm?" Jane mumbled, but rushed outside to her car. Picking up the CB, she tried to call through. She heard incoherent static-filled replies; she wasn't sure if anyone copied her message or not. After a few minutes she gave up.</p><p></p><p>"You with the laptop," she said again, when she came back. "I need a message sent out to the Emergency Response group here locally." Don looked up and frowned, closing the laptop as Jane came around as if to see what was on it.</p><p></p><p>"Hold on a minute; a laptop 9-1-1 call? Surely you can do better than that!"</p><p></p><p>Jane was losing her patience. "No, I can't! You're the link I've got to the outside world."</p><p></p><p>"Listen, cop," Don said, equally impatient. "Stay away from my machine. I make $105 an hour with this, and you can't afford that. Find your own way to patch through."</p><p></p><p>Jane stood as if she'd been slapped. She tried to sputter a response about good Samaritan laws <span style="color: orange">(which Idaho doesn't have anyway)</span> but really simply didn't know how to respond.</p><p></p><p>"Look," said Don, "I'll send a message for you, but stay away, alright? I don't need anyone messing around with this." He flipped up the screen again, the bluish light from his Windows Desktop lighting up his chiseled young face.</p><p></p><p>Just then they were all blinded by flashing lights. A deafening cacaphony of horns blaring in all keys blasted in from the parking lot and the flashing of all the headlights in the lot turning off and on made their eyes water. Then as suddenly and mysteriously as the flashing and honking started, it abruptly stopped.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Desdichado, post: 1238310, member: 2205"] [center]"Exit 23" III.[/center] Jane and the doctor left poor Danny to his own devices and ran back inside the bathroom. Dr. Akens had moved a little bit of the rubble, after hearing a moan, he said, and now a foot was exposed under the fallen ceiling tiles, attached to a leg that extended into the pile of debris. He and the photographer had rapidly been trying to remove material from the pile to investigate. The state trooper and Dr. Neary pitched in, and the pile quickly was spread to the side. As they went through the material, it started to get red and bloodstained. The four were a bit nervous about what they would find underneath it. Another groan prompted them to redouble their efforts. Soon they had uncovered the body of the balding man in a suit. In icicle was impaled in his leg, and another in his side, and savage cuts across his body looked like bear mauling damage. He was still groaning from time to time, though, and his breathing was shallow. Dr. Neary made an attempt to clean him up somewhat and stop the bleeding. His breathing eased a little, and he made a brief foray into semi-consciousness -- "so... cold..." he whispered, before passing out again. Dr. Neary and Jane carefully put him on a bent, but more or less stable piece of the stall's metal wall and carried him out of the freezing bathroom and into the restaurant. Mabel looked away with a green tinge to her face as the injured man was laid out on a table. "Oh, my!" mumbled Don Truit, looking away from his laptop. Will Wheeler's eyes went wide, but he still scowled at Jane, especially when she started barking orders. "Stay here with him; I'm going to try and call for a paramedic or something," she said. "Don't let anyone touch him or move him." "Hello?" said Ned. "I am a doctor, remember? And how do you think anyone's going to get here through this storm?" Jane mumbled, but rushed outside to her car. Picking up the CB, she tried to call through. She heard incoherent static-filled replies; she wasn't sure if anyone copied her message or not. After a few minutes she gave up. "You with the laptop," she said again, when she came back. "I need a message sent out to the Emergency Response group here locally." Don looked up and frowned, closing the laptop as Jane came around as if to see what was on it. "Hold on a minute; a laptop 9-1-1 call? Surely you can do better than that!" Jane was losing her patience. "No, I can't! You're the link I've got to the outside world." "Listen, cop," Don said, equally impatient. "Stay away from my machine. I make $105 an hour with this, and you can't afford that. Find your own way to patch through." Jane stood as if she'd been slapped. She tried to sputter a response about good Samaritan laws [color=orange](which Idaho doesn't have anyway)[/color] but really simply didn't know how to respond. "Look," said Don, "I'll send a message for you, but stay away, alright? I don't need anyone messing around with this." He flipped up the screen again, the bluish light from his Windows Desktop lighting up his chiseled young face. Just then they were all blinded by flashing lights. A deafening cacaphony of horns blaring in all keys blasted in from the parking lot and the flashing of all the headlights in the lot turning off and on made their eyes water. Then as suddenly and mysteriously as the flashing and honking started, it abruptly stopped. [/QUOTE]
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