Last Call

LAST CALL

For Dave Stevens it had been a long shift as a 999 Call Handler in Ambulance Red Base.

The last one of the run of three always seemed to last forever. It had its usual mix of genuine calls, the old dears not wanting to be a bother even though they were in pain and in genuine need of assistance. They were Dave’s favourite callers; he always stayed on the line with them until the crew arrived. He wasn’t necessarily meant to, but he did.

And, the time wasters. “The cat licked my face.” “I’ve broken up with my girlfriend and punched the wall, broke my hand.” Not to mention the sad “lost all my money in the Casino and tried to drown myself in the sea” excuses for calling.

He’d started the shift with an infant resuscitation followed by an amputation and a first floor fall. It goes like that, you get nothing super serious for a while and then bang, that lot comes in. At 23:00 he had an eighteen year old in Cardiac Arrest. Dave guided the lad’s traumatised sister through CPR over the phone. The Ambulance crew were on scene quickly, much to his relief, but there had been no sign of life during resus.

Only a few more hours and he had five days annual leave beckoning.

His head set’s ear piece crackled into life and another call came in.

“ Yeah, I’ve had a few right? Its freezing , dunno where I am, I need to get home right? I got no money, I’m outside, well in a knackered phone box in the middle of friggin nowhere. All I’ve got on is a thin batman T shirt shorts and flip flops. It's two in the friggin morning and as I said it’s freezing. I need to get home. So you need to send me an ambulance right.’

Dave replied to the monologue: ‘Get a taxi maybe?’

‘I just told you I got no money didn’t I, you idiot.’

‘But you had money to have a few tonight?’

‘Shove it. I know my rights, I’m in danger here, so, send me a friggin ambulance!’

‘In the absence of a medical emergency, I’m not sending you an ambulance, I suggest you phone a friend. Goodbye.’ The phone cut out on the “goodbye”. As Batman realised his phone had run out of power,

Dave flipped his headset off and looked at the ceiling and uttered:

‘Give me strength.’

The call’s location had only registered in a general area on Dave’s screen as opposed to a place .

It was out in the sticks, Dave wondered how you get yourself in the situation of being in that location, in inappropriate clothing for the weather conditions and in the early hours.

The end of shift at 06:30 came round. Relief at last. Red Base control room filled with a mass of green uniforms. The incoming team, armed with cups of coffee, took over.

Dave had a quick cigarette in the car park with two teammates, scraped the frost off his windscreen and started back on his normal route before remembering that his neighbours , kindly mindful he worked nights had advised their building works were starting. He headed towards his parent’s place, a long way off, but guaranteed sleep. However, there was a road closure he didn’t know about and he’d have to do a massive detour into the countryside.

He gave a wan smile realising that he would go in the area of his batman caller’s location. Driving alongside a near mile long stone wall, he realised he was close to a private estate, he tried to bring the landowner’s name to mind, Lord What’s his face, was the best he could come up with.

He saw the phone box the drunk called from earlier a few hundred yards away. As he drew that much nearer he could see something bulky at the side of the box. A body lying on the ground.

He parked up and walked over to the body and turned it over. The saviour of Gotham City looked up at him. Head wound, congealed blood, vomit on the grass. A large stone mile post relic from Roman times stood at the side of the phone box, Best guess? He looked as if he’d hit his head, gone unconscious and died of exposure. No mistaking it was his caller from earlier that was for certain.

He checked for vital signs. Dead for sure. Beyond help.

He started to question himself, should he have sent on it. But the crew would have queried it. No he was in the right.

A headline flashed across his mind “Man denied Ambulance found dead in call box”.

Panic started to kick in. He could get the sack, or maybe worse, what if it went to court and some smart lawyer tried putting the blame on him.

He looked at the dead body again, then up and down the road. Not a soul.

Having satisfied himself he hadn’t done anything wrong. Dave got his mobile out and called the Police. An about to be off duty Police unit gave a resigned sigh when the airwave crackled into life and they realised this would not be a five minute job.

Ten minutes later they saw Dave’s green uniform up ahead and slowed. With no safe place to park, they drove some way further into a hidden from the road lay by.

Dave greeted them. 'Sorry about this, are you night shift, or early turn? '

‘Night.’ Came the response.

‘Very sorry in that case then.’

There was a scrambling sound on Lord what’s his face side of the wall. A shotgun appeared first, the startled officers and Dave moved behind the phone box. It was evidently a poacher. One of the officers whispered to his crew mate.

‘Looks like we’ve got Lord Cholmondley thingame bob’s poacher, wait until his feet hit the ground. Oh strewth its only Jimmy Jones!

They appeared from behind the phone box.

‘Jimmy old son, this is so not your lucky day is it?’

THE END