Danger Zone (File One of The First Responders Files)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Guess who got an internship, folks? :D I'm so over the moon, I've been searching for a placement since late January last year, and I had an interview and got an offer on the same day! Help me celebrate with a chapter.

Grace is another reason Maddie isn't straight, Sylvie and Marjan bond, Peter would be drunk if he was playing a drinking game, the out-of-staters depart, and everyone on a squad crew is a chaotic mess.

Enjoy!

***

Maddie looked up when she got an alert on her screen, turning to look at Grace, who sat at the main monitor. "Got one," she said.

Grace nodded, clicking a button on her keyboard. "9-1-1, what's your emergency?" she asked.

"I think Mistress is in trouble," a man responded, sounding slightly panicked. "I'm at 550 McKamy Drive off 183."

Maddie instantly started typing it into her monitor as Grace nodded. "OK," the experienced dispatcher frowned. "You sound a little far away, sir."

"I'm calling with Siri," the man explained.

"OK, what's your name?"

"Mistress says I should only be referred to as Imp."

Maddie did a double take, leaning away from her computer to look at Grace in bewilderment. She shook her head, just as surprised. "OK . . . Imp," Grace said slowly, going with the flow. "Um . . . my name is Grace. What's wrong with Mistress?"

"She was stung by a bee," Imp answered, and Maddie quickly put the information into the dispatch information. "She's allergic. I think there's a hive in the wall."

"OK, she has an EpiPen?" Grace questioned.

"Yeah, but she was reaching for it when she collapsed."

Grace nodded. "All right, I'm gonna need you to grab it for her, OK?"

There was an audible gulp over the line. "See, that's the problem. I'm a little . . . tied up right now."

Grace and Maddie exchanged startled looks. Maddie took her earpiece out for a minute to squeak, "Are we getting a call from a sub right now?"

Grace merely nodded, a weird look on her face as she started pulling up websites on her computer. "Send that information out."

Maddie nodded, putting her earpiece in and dispatching the appropriate resources. "Rescue 29, I have a 40-year-old female, multiple bee stings, possible anaphylaxis," she recited. "Be advised, there may be a hive in the wall."

"Sir, do you know if there's anyone within earshot of you?" Grace asked.

"No," Imp answered. "Mistress keeps her dungeon soundproofed."

Grace sighed. "I suppose it would be," she muttered under her breath. "Is there anybody else I can call?"

"No, I'm in Mistress's basement." She heard a weak hack on the other end, then Imp's panicked voice. "She's choking! She's trying to cough, but air can't get in!"

"OK, listen, I think her airways are closing up," Grace told him. "Did you say you are completely bound? There's no room for you to wiggle free?"

"Unfortunately, that's the point of this position," Imp said dryly.

Maddie covered her mouth to avoid laughing or saying something snarky. "What position would that be, exactly?" Grace asked, and Maddie turned to see her scrolling down a site with various positions pictured. "Hogtie frog legs? Uh . . . spread eagle strappado?"