Shake (zhèn)/ Arousing

震 

“Night Scene, On Scene, Standby”

A night landing for the on scene, on scene standby among the long line of parked law enforcement blinking lights. The scene standby is for an armed standoff. In anticipation of needing immediate critical care and rapid transport, medivac support is activated and now, at 0237 the helicopter descends to a country road. As the rotor’s brakes bring the spin to a clicking stop, dark heavily armed and vested sheriff officers move in small groups, stand casting ominous blinking shadows invigilate. Radio traffic crackles incoherently from clipped handhelds and squad cars. Somewhere, out of sight around the corner and down a dirt drive, the parlous “incident”. Through the trees a faint strobe flashes metronomically through the trees.

A SWAT team has activated and ETA is ~ 20 minutes. Coffee is proffered and Pilot accepts the white Styrofoam from a tall weaponized uniform. The temperature of the night is comfortable in this midsummer night. To the east a lightening marks the retreat of night, the beginning of dawn. From behind, the blocking squad slides back allowing the bright lights, then two large unmarked SUV vehicles to pass. Relieved, the sheriff units pull back as the SWAT team deploys positions.

The dawn in anticipation becomes a light blue slowly evolving into a yellow with red fingers. The comfortable temperature becomes warmer, humid and mosquitoes emerge deploying their own swat teams. Pilot backs discreetly into the shadows and discards the “worst coffee ever”.

The radio has increased incoherent traffic with the sudden exception of a clear “Shots fired”. The sun glints it’s first light slowly showing itself. A squad pulls out quitting the scene. Relentless mosquitoes en mass stealth landings on any exposed area. The incident now is “scene secure” in a broken squawk.

Enough time now passes and encouraged by the sudden radio silence, the thought that perhaps emergent medical is not the appropriate transport service. Pilot notes that he is getting close to being “timed out”.

With the sun over the horizon, the temperature obvious predictions (“going to be a hot day”, “scorcher today” ) repeat themselves. The unbreathable Nomax flight suit produces a sweat. The Comcenter maternally calls checking on the status and availability for another transport but this scene has not been cleared. We wait and when finally the request for “paramedics” is made it seems almost a sad and anticlimactic afterthought.