Disclaimer: I do not own Emergency or ChiPs or any of the other characters I'm borrowing. I just borrow the characters from the original writers from time to time. I am not making any money off this story.

Hi. Thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. I thought I'd let you know a few things. First of all I don't know Los Angeles and therefore don't really know what I'm talking about as far as geography and street names (thank goodness for Google map). Secondly, I prefer to think that Roy isn't married and has no kids. It just makes me happy. If I offend anyone who is a diehard traditionalist, I'm sorry.


It struck suddenly, without warning. It lasted for five minutes. It was as if God took the City of Angels and shook it like a snow globe. It was the strongest and longest earthquake in the history of the city of Los Angeles.

Buildings crumbled, cars slid sideways across the freeways and city streets. Telephone and electrical poles toppled, the live wires crackling over the pavement and grass.

Life as the residents of Los Angles had known had simply ceased to exist, as their city was rearranged to nature's will.


Driving along the Pacific Coast Freeway, CHP Officer Jon Baker was nearing the end of his shift. It felt good to be back on a motorcycle again after nearly three years away from the force. By his side was his old partner, Frank Poncherello. As a twist of fate, his old partner, whom he'd trained, was now in charge of his training and probation. Smiling to himself at the irony of it, he was unprepared for the earth to move out from under him.

The huge CHP motorcycle suddenly hopped to the right and then to the left. Then it went out from under Jon completely. The world had been turned into sounds of twisting metal, a deep, resonant rumbling and human screams and cries. All Jon could hear was his bike scrapping along the pavement and somewhere nearby Ponch yelling something at him.

His left leg felt like it was on fire as it too was dragged along, his foot entangled with the small roll bar on the side of his motor. Desperately, Jon tried to get himself free but he was too securely held. His body flailing along the ground, he felt something snap in his left arm then the bike finally stopped moving.

Groaning into the cacophony of sounds, Jon was barely aware of a car careening toward him and the bike. Jon pulled at his leg, trying to ignore the pain he was causing and the fact that he had begun to shake with the early stages of shock. If he didn't get loose, he wasn't going to have to worry about it.

A pair of hands caught hold of his leg and began to heave as well. Pain flashed through Jon. Unconsciousness and nausea threatened. Gulping air to combat both, Jon saw the car flip and spin away over the edge of the freeway. It had missed him but undoubtedly the occupant or occupants were injured.

The noise stopped. The earth stood still for a moment longer. Then the other sounds started. Car alarms, buildings toppling and people crying out in fear, pain and confusion.

"Are you okay?" Jon asked. His partner's head was bleeding and he was pale. So far the blond officer was not aware of the extent of his own injuries. His first thoughts had been for his friend and partner.

"Fine, it's you I'm worried about. Ready?" Ponch asked. All hell had broken loose around him. Cars had caught fire. The embankment along the side of the freeway was threatening to give way. If it did they'd all be swept down to the beach below and possibly into the ocean beyond. As well, the bank the freeway as situated on was also showing signs of weakness.

"Ready for what?" Jon asked.

Not waiting to explain, Ponch caught hold of the overturned bike with both hands and heaved. A scream was torn from Jon's lips as the twisted piece of metal was slowly pulled off his left hip and leg. Jon's boot and foot were wedged between the roll-bar and the side of the motorcycle. He was trapped within what was left of the machine.

"Hey, do you need any help?" a feminine voice asked from behind Ponch. He couldn't let the bike go and Jon was too weak to pull himself free. His blond partner was a real mess. The pain had let itself be known. Jon felt like his entire side were on fire. Shock was getting harder to ignore.

"Yeah," Ponch replied, without turning to look. "His foot's caught underneath. Try to get it free."

Jon was barely conscious. A woman slipped by him, a crowbar in her hands. She wasn't small by any stretch of the imagination, but evidently her mass wasn't completely fat. She slipped the crowbar between the roll-bar and the bike. She put her shoulder into it. Metal screeched as she forced the hole to widen. Putting the bar down, she gently took hold of the officer's foot and drew it out. Carefully, she placed his foot on the ground and moved to Jon's shoulders. She dragged him out of the way.

Ponch let the bike down as carefully as he could. He didn't want any pieces of metal to hit them. "What just happened?" the woman asked. She was checking Jon over with a precision that indicated some medical knowledge.

"That was an earthquake," Ponch replied, looking around at the devastation surrounding them. He wasn't sure where to begin.

"Great. My first time in LA and I get to experience an earthquake. Aren't I lucky? Do you have any medical supplies?" Chris asked. The officer was badly injured. If he hadn't been wearing his helmet, he would have been dead by now.

"There might still be some on my motor. Give me a minute." Ponch stated. He went back to what was left of his bike and searched through the saddlebag. Luckily, they had been in the one the bike hadn't slid on. While he was there he quickly checked his radio. In the crash the casing had been completely shattered. Ponch tried the handset anyway, just in case. Nothing happened. Cursing under his breath he headed back to where Jon lay.

"Here," Ponch said, handing the first aid kit over to her. "Are you a doctor or a nurse?"

"No, but I don't see any popping up yet so I'm going to have to do. Can you see what else you can salvage and check the other vehicles? I'll do what I can for him," the woman suggested.

She seemed to know what she was doing so Ponch followed her advice. In Jon's saddlebags he found a few more medical supplies and an emergency blanket. His radio was in the same shape as his own.

"Thanks," she said, quickly surveying what he'd brought. "If, while you're checking the cars, you find water, I could really use some." For the first time, Ponch noticed just how pale the woman was. She was terrified but holding it together well.

"Sure." Ponch wasn't sure where to start, there were so many vehicles, so many people in need. Taking a steadying breath, he set out toward the nearest mangled piece of metal, the one that had gone down the embankment.


Feeling overwhelmed, Chris did what she could for Officer Jon Baker. When she'd pulled the man's leg out of the wreckage she'd felt the bones grating against each other. He was semi-conscious and moaned with each breath. She wished she had something to give him for the pain but there wasn't anything in the kits. Gritting her teeth, she spread the blanket over the man and turned her attention to his left arm.

Jon's left arm was broken; she could tell that by looking at it. As carefully as she could manage, Chris undid the cuff of his left sleeve and drew what was left of it up and away from the lower arm. The bone hadn't broken through the skin, for that she was thankful. But she could see where the jagged end was sticking up, tenting the skin.

Bracing her feet against his arm put and the crook of his neck, she pulled on the hand, as hard as she dared. Another scream burst from the blond officer and he struggled weakly to pull his arm away from her. "Hold still," she growled under her breath. With her right hand, she felt along Jon's arm to see if she had it properly aligned. As satisfied as she could be without an x-ray, she wrapped the lower arm as best she could and cautiously laid it across his stomach.

Briefly, she debated on what to do with Jon's leg. Looking around at the twisted vehicles and the people sprawled here and there; she ran a trembling hand over her mouth. Some of the people were obviously dead. Bile threatened. A quick glance at her patient's face revealed the bluest pair of eyes she could ever remember looking into. There was pain in those eyes, but they also contained questions and sympathy. He must have seen her hand. Angry at herself, she put her business face back on. "What's your name, officer?" she asked even though she could read the name plate on his uniform perfectly well.

"Jon Baker," he managed through clenched teeth. A spasm of pain flashed over his handsome face when he tried to sit up. Gently, she placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. "What's yours?" he asked when he was settled again.

"Chris. Can you tell me where it hurts?" the woman asked.

He had to think for a few moments before he could answer. "My left side, but I think it's just bruised and scrapped. My ankle and lower leg hurt but I can still move my toes," he replied. "Where's Ponch?"

"He's checking the other vehicles. Okay, I'm going to take your boot off and see what I can see. Stay as still as you can," Chris instructed.

Never one for big cities, Chris was having trouble concentrating with the cacophony of noise coming at her from all sides. Doing her best to ignore it, she moved down to the badly mangled ankle. Initially, it looked bad. She couldn't tell where the blood was coming from and it scared her. She tried to be as cautious as she could but she still had to pull on the boot fairly hard to get it off.

Jon tried to stifle a moan and couldn't quite do it. With inexperience hands, Chris examined the ankle and foot for broken bones. To the best of her knowledge there weren't any, so she started to work on the scrapes on his leg and side.

"How are you feeling, Officer Baker?" Chris called out to him. If possible, she wanted to keep him awake.

"Please, call me Jon," the officer responded. She could barely hear him over the background noise.

"Well, Jon. I think you're right about nothing being broken. I don't even think it's sprained. You're lucky. I'm going to have to find some water to clean these wounds with and something to splint your arm with but I think you're going to live," Chris said with as much cheer as she could muster.

"Thank you," was the quiet reply.

"I'm going to see how your partner is doing. Just hang on; we'll get you out of here as soon as we can." With that, Chris headed out.


What Chris found as she searched for the other officer was something out of her worse nightmares. Bodies, people screaming, horns blaring, and the stink of oil, gasoline, blood and human 

sweat. Steeling herself mentally, she checked in each of the cars she came to. She found no casualties. The people that could move had all ready left the vehicles. She figured Officer Poncherello was gathering them up as he went along. The ones that couldn't move weren't going to again. In her wanderings, she found two bottles of soda pop that hadn't shattered and a canteen full of water. Hopefully, the owners wouldn't mind.

A quarter of a mile away the carnage continued. Chris came upon the CHP officer trying to pry a side door of an ambulance open. Inside she could see what looked like a fireman trying to climb out of the front of the overturned vehicle.

"Need some help?" she asked, setting the bottles and canteen down.

"Where's Jon?" Officer Poncherello demanded upon recognizing her.

"He's back beside his bike resting and wondering where you are," she replied.

"See if you can find something to smash the window," Ponch ordered. The paramedic was trapped as was his partner in the back. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get any of the doors open.

The woman returned a few moments later with a piece of metal she'd pulled off one of the mangled wrecks. "Stand back," she stated. Ponch did as she asked and was about to make a suggestion when she hit the windshield with every ounce of strength she had.

A lattice work of cracks appeared from the point of impact. The second swing sent shards of glass into the compartment and over the huddled form of the paramedic. Quickly, Chris broke out any of the pieces remaining in the window frame while Ponch reached in and pulled the man out.

"Are you hurt?" Ponch asked, brushing the glass off his clothes.

"No, just a little bruised. My partner's in the back with a patient we were transporting for Rampart General Hospital. I haven't heard anything from him since the crash." The dark haired man was all ready moving to the back of the ambulance.

"Come on," Ponch said to the woman. Of all the people he'd helped so far she was the only one that had stayed to help and not run down the freeway. The treacherous shape of the embankment had scared them. He wished, however, that she had stayed with his partner. There was no telling what could be happening to him right now, alone and injured. Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he and the paramedic studied the warped back doors of the vehicle.

"Roy," the paramedic called through the small gap between the two doors. "Hey, Roy, it's Johnny, can you hear me?"

"Johnny?" came a muffled voice.

"We're going to get you out of there. How's the patient?" Johnny asked.

"Dead," Roy stated simply from inside the wrecked vehicle.

Chris was back, the piece of metal still in hand. Not asking for help, she forced it between the doors and tried to pry them apart. The manoeuvre was only partially successful. She managed to pop one of the doors open, the bottom one, but she also bent the metal nearly in two. Breathing heavy, she stepped back to get out of the way. The paramedic, Johnny, nearly dove through the open door.

"How is he?" Ponch called into the unit.

"He's fine," the second paramedic replied, scrambling out, a medical bag in each hand. "Are either of you hurt?"

"I'm fine. His head stopped bleeding awhile back. Other than that, I don't know," Chris replied, giving him a hand up. "I'm going to head back and check on Jon." She picked up her bottles.

"Is Jon injured?" There was a calmness about the man that comforted her.

"Yes, he is. I've done all I can but I couldn't clean his wounds or splint his arm very well," Chris stated. She practically had to run to catch up with the blond haired paramedic, he'd set off down the freeway walking at a good clip. The other paramedic and Ponch were only a short distance behind, both lugging large medical boxes. Johnny had taken everything he thought they might need.

"Do you two have names?" Chris asked as she led the way back. A thick haze had come up in the air; Chris could smell fire and dust. The combination made her sneeze until her eyes watered.

"I'm Roy DeSoto, my partner's Johnny Gage. How much farther is Jon?" Roy was having a hard time of it, Chris figured he was probably hurt but just refused to admit it.

"Not much farther. I'm Chris. Do you think the whole city's like this?"Chris asked. As they travelled she was getting a better sense of the devastation surrounding them and it terrified her.

"I don't know, the radio's out. Chances are pretty good that most of it is, though. We're going to have to find a vehicle or vehicles that still run to get us out of here," Roy replied.

"He's right over here," Chris said as they came up to the wrecked motorcycles. It didn't look like Jon had moved since she'd last seen him but that was okay. The blond CHP officer was either unconscious or asleep. It was hard to tell which. The two paramedics took charge and started ministering to him.

"Should we go check the other cars?" Chris asked the other CHP officer. She was suddenly feeling useless and needed a distraction, even searching for dead bodies.

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea. We'll give you a shout if we need help," Ponch said to the paramedics. Accepting one of the bottles of soda pop each, he and Chris started in the opposite direction they'd all ready searched.