Pleiadian Rescuer Page 7

  It felt like it took an age to get there, but finally, he reached the safety of the shore. For a moment or two, he just lay on his back, gulping hungrily for air as the water gently lapped against him. A few seconds passed before Archie struggled to his feet and pulled Blondie from the waterline and up the beach. The man was still unconscious and deathly quiet – too quiet. Archie knelt at his head, opened his airway and checked for breathing and a pulse – he had neither – he was clinically dead!

  6

  The Beach

  Fishing lake

  West Midlands, England

  Archie had come too far and done way too much to just let the supposed alien die now. He went through the primary survey again. If the Beings anatomy and physiology were human, then the man was in cardiac arrest. He surmised that because the casualty was alive before being dropped into the water that he must have drowned, so ensuring the airway was clear, Archie gave five initial rescue breaths before starting chest compressions, doing thirty before stopping and giving two more breaths. Then repeating the process for a minute. After there was no change, Archie stumbled to the van and grabbed the medical kit; what he was currently doing wasn’t going to be enough. He needed to perform the more extensive treatment as soon as possible.

  Once he got the kit and arrived back at Blondie’s side, Archie gave him another minute’s worth of CPR before starting the more advanced stuff. He quickly laid out the airway management gear, opened out the laryngoscope and slid the blade into the mouth so that he could lift the tongue. This allowed him to have a good look into the patient's throat. In doing so, he realised that he would need the largest endotracheal tube he had to fit this monster throat. With the right tube in hand, Archie re-inserted the laryngoscope, then slipped the ET tube along the groove of the scopes blade, and through the larynx. As soon as it was in place, he withdrew the scope. Using a 10ml syringe, he inflated the cuff that sat on the outside and near the bottom of the tube. Once the cuff was inflated, it would mould to the throat, and close off any space so that the only way for anything to pass into the lungs was through the inside of the tube. It also meant that if the patient vomited, it couldn’t get past the cuff – stomach acid in the lungs was never a good day out! ET tubes were not always 100% effective, but they were definitely better than a punch in the tits.

  With the airway as secure as it was ever going to get, he attached the Bag Valve Mask to the top of the tube and started inflating the lungs with air. The Bag Valve Mask is basically a rubber or plastic, oval shaped bag with a valve fitted to the top. The valve fitting would be attached to either a mask that was placed over the mouth and nose, or it could be mounted directly to the top of an ET tube. When the bag was squeezed, it would force air through the valve and into the airway, oxygenating the lungs.

  Archie gave five long inflations before beginning chest compressions again. For an ordinary human, the compression rate should be between 100-120 per minute at a ratio of 30-2. That meant that the rescuer would do thirty compressions, two lung inflations, thirty compressions, two inflations – and you aim for a compression rate of 100-120, thereby simulating a heartbeat of that number per minute. It worked out to be roughly just under two compressions per second. But this man wasn’t an ordinary human, so Archie decided to change the ratios to 40-4 at a speed of 160 beats per minute. The truth was, he didn’t know whether the patient's heart rate should be higher or lower, and he was just too cold and tired to think clearly enough to figure it out. He didn’t even try. He made his decision and just got on with the task at hand.

  After a couple of minutes, fatigue started to set in as Archie became more and more tired. What he was doing wasn’t having any effect; it was time to change it up. It’s hard enough to do a resus at the best of times, but with everything he’d been through to get to this point meant that he was absolutely knackered, and his CPR was becoming less effective as time went on. He decided to cut away the clothing to expose the chest so that he could attach the defibrillator. While it was analysing the heart rhythm, Archie put an intravenous cannula into a vein in the right arm.

  The defib gave a No Shock Advised signal, so Archie pushed a double dose of adrenalin through the cannula and re-started chest compressions. It was a much larger dose than he should have given for a normal human, but Archie didn’t know if this man was human. Furthermore, he was really feeling the effects of the night's events, so if he could simulate a shockable heart rhythm quicker by giving more adrenalin than he should have, so much the better. His shoulders were cramping, and his triceps felt like he was receiving electric shocks to the back of his arms. Two minutes doesn’t sound like a long time, but when you’re doing a resus on your own, it feels like an eternity. Thankfully, just before he felt he couldn’t carry on, the defib announced that it was going to analyse again, which meant that Archie had to stop CPR - he was grateful for the momentary respite.

  About twelve seconds later, the analysis again revealed that nothing had changed. FUCK! Archie pushed through another dose of adrenalin and got back on the chest. He was feeling disheartened with the fact that there was still no change, but he had to carry on. He’s a big man – fuck it, I’m gonna give him another dose, Archie thought to himself as he administered an extra syringe of the drug. He had already given more of the stuff than he should have in the time frame that he had been working on the casualty, but hell, what did he have to lose? The guy was currently dead anyway. The idea of the drug was to try to stimulate a heart with an Asystole or “flatline” rhythm into Ventricular Fibrillation or “VF” rhythm that could be shocked by the defib. The electrical current that the machine pushed through the patient would actually stop the chaotic electrical impulses in the heart in the hope that it would re-start in normal sinus rhythm – “NSR”.

  He pumped the chest harder and faster than he ever had on any person before and after a minute or so, he noticed a change in the rhythm on the defibs screen – VF… shockable! He stopped compressions and manually set the shock box to analyse, and after the required twelve seconds, the indication to shock was given. Archie didn’t waste any time pressing the button to put a charge of 150 joules through the heart. With his eyes firmly on the screen, he saw a change in rhythm that looked like NSR – it might not be, it could be PEA or Pulseless Electrical Activity, which presented very similar to the NSR. As quick as he could, he jammed two fingers into the patients’ neck to feel for a carotid pulse. There it was. The steady bump against his finger-tips; he’d done it, he’d got him back. He was still unconscious, but he was alive, and right then that was all that mattered.

  Several seconds after the heart restarted, the patient started to make respiratory effort and was trying to breathe on his own. Things were beginning to look up. Archie decided to leave the defib attached, as well as leave the ET tube and the cannula in place while he started to sort all the gear out and prepare to leave the area. By leaving those items in place gave him a better chance of getting straight to work on the patient should he “go off” again… die again. Often, people that have suffered a cardiac arrest and been successfully resuscitated would arrest again, and the rescuers would find themselves having to do the business over and over again. Before he started to clear all the stuff away, he just collapsed on to his back, breathing heavily for a couple of minutes as he tried to recuperate some of the spent energy.

  As he lay there, Archie thought about what had happened through the evening, and the implications of it all hit him like a freight train. There would be a follow up to the crashed Lightship, and it didn’t matter whether it was the aliens or the humans who actually came, he couldn’t be there when they arrived. As the thought entered his mind, Archie also realised that he still had a fair bit of work to do before he could get away. For starters, he had to pack up the rest of the camp, which, fortunately, he had already started. He also had to give Blondie a proper looking over because he didn’t actually know why he went into cardiac arrest. He had assumed it was because he’d drowned, but that mig
ht not be the case, and only a thorough secondary survey would give a better indication of any injuries that might have caused it. Whatever, laying there wasn’t getting anything done, so he struggled to his feet and started dragging Blondie up the beach to the bivvy. There he would have a bit of light to help him look over the unconscious man.

  Upon instigating the secondary survey, Archie got a closer look at the clothing that Blondie was wearing; it was a very quasi and futuristic, tight-fitting jumpsuit that seemed to mould to his body. Around his waist was a white, plastic-looking belt with several pouches. Using the shears from the medical pack, Archie started cutting all of the clothes off of the patient so that he could really see what he was dealing with. After all, you can’t treat an injury if you can’t see it. Once he had finished, he had a cursory glance along the length of the naked body laid out in front of him, where he found that there were no apparent injuries. That didn’t mean there wasn’t any, it just said they weren’t visible. Not willing to take any chances, Archie started a full head to toe survey, and immediately found that there was a sizable lump on the back of the big man’s head. There was no sign of external bleeding, which meant that right then, there was nothing Archie could do about it, so he continued the search for other injuries down the body. Finding nothing else to concern him, he started to pack everything away and run it all up to the van.

  On one of his trips back to the camp to get more kit, he noticed that Blondie had started to come around and began moving. Archie knelt down next to him just as he started trying to pull the tube from his throat.

  “Don’t do that mate,” Archie said as he took hold of the guy's big hand. “It’ll really hurt. Hang on I’ll take it out.”

  Blondie was trying to say something, as Archie deflated the cuff on the tube, but whatever the man was trying to say just sounded like gibberish. Pulling the tube out allowed for a cough and spluttering fit, along with a pleasant amount of vomit, but that was to be expected. Once he had finished coughing, the patient lay back down.

  “Are you hurt mate?” Archie asked. “Do you speak English?”

  “Yes, I speak… the tongue…” The reply was weak and raspy. “Where am I?”

  “We’re on a small beach. Your ship was attacked, and you crashed into the lake. I pulled you out – do you remember?”

  “I… I think I… It’s just flashes…” Blondie was clearly trying to make sense of what was happening. “You are Archie. We were sent here to con…” he slipped back into unconsciousness.

  “Oi, wake up!” Archie shouted as he shook Blondies shoulders. “Wake the fuck up! How do you know my name?”

  Getting no response, he put Blondie into the recovery position and made sure that his airway was secure before returning to packing the camp away. He thought about just leaving it all there and just throwing the big man into the back of the motor and getting out of there, but no sooner had he thought it, did he realise that his fingerprints were all over it – they would be on him straight away. No, he had to take it all with him. He had never busted down a fishing camp as fast as he was doing right now. He had to get a move on because he didn’t know when the follow up would arrive. He basically just collapsed the tent and threw it into the back of the van, along with the rest of the stuff. Ten minutes later, as he chucked the last of the equipment into the vehicle, Archie started to think about how he would get Blondie up the bank. Could he use the equipment barrow to get him up? No, the slope was way too steep. That meant he’d have to carry the big man, he was already more tired than he had ever been in his life, and he really didn’t relish the thought of having to pick the unconscious man up again.

  On his last run up to the vehicle, Archie had started the engine so that he could get the heater going. It was cold out, really cold, he was cold, and he had been active for pretty much the last hour, which that meant that Blondie must be freezing. He hadn’t checked, but he would have thought that the unconscious man’s core body temperature must be lower than it should be. Preheating the van would go some way to rectifying the problem.

  As he started back to get Blondie, Archie spotted one of the Arrowhead Darts coming towards them. It was heading straight for the bay he was in. He had to assume they knew there was a survivor from the crashed Lightship. He found himself frantically scanning the sky, hoping to see Blondies mates coming in to intercept them, but he was shit out of luck. He realised he was on his own as panic started to creep upon him. What was he going to do now? How would he get out of this? Should he grab the unconscious Blondie and try to drive away? No, that would never work, they’d just blast the shit out of him before he even got to the entrance to the lake. Speculation was getting him nowhere, so with a deep calming breath, he pulled the pistol from the waistband of his trousers and cocked the hammer back and ensured the safety was on before slipping back in place.

  He ran down the bank and roughly tried to rouse Blondie, to no avail. Trying to wake him wasn’t working. With every ounce of strength he could muster, he pulled the big man up into a firefighter’s lift and got him on to his shoulders before moving to the van with as much speed as he could find. Trying to rush up the bank saw him slip and fall twice as the Dart flew over the beach. Did they see us? Archie thought as he pushed forward to the vehicle. All hope that the enemy had missed them were dashed as after about eight hundred yards, the Arrowhead turned around and started back towards the bay. Reaching the van, Archie bundled the big man inside. Once he shut the door, he made his way to the driver’s side in a state of panic, only to again realise that trying to run was pointless…to even attempt it was suicide. His best hope would be to lure them out and take them on. Running back around the van, he opened the door he had thrown Blondie in and grabbed the survival bag before moving off of the road and finding a bush large enough to give him some decent cover. Getting in, he only hoped they would land and show themselves.

  While he was waiting, he reached into the survival bag and pulled out the bowie knife that made up part of the emergency pack. Fuck it, if I’m going to do this, I’m going to need the tools to do the job right! He thought. This blade was a nasty bit of kit – literally, to be used in a survival situation, and Archie figured that this qualified as precisely that. This was the type of knife that could skin a fucking dinosaur.

  He didn’t have to wait long before they were overhead, where they just hovered for a minute or two before manoeuvring the Arrowhead in front of the van and started descending. Their positioning was perfect for Archie, as he was just behind it and to the right. He hoped this might give him the element of surprise.

  As the vehicle came down, Archie felt the hair on his arms begin to stand on end, and as it got lower, he could hear a high-pitched whine that he assumed must have been the ship's engines. The electrical charge that he could feel seemed to worsen, and he felt like he had one of those joke shop wigs on his head. He even thought the hair on his arse was standing up.

  The ship touched down on the dirt track in front of the van gently enough, but more importantly, only about fifteen feet away from Archie’s position. The craft itself was nearly forty feet long, by twenty-five feet at its widest point, by twenty feet high at the rear that sloped down to form a sharp point at the front. At the rear of the vessel were four X-shaped wings that intersected at the back of the main body. The wing tips each held four engines that emitted a bright white light, that faded as the ship shut down. It was like a 3D model of a triangle. Its surface was like polished chrome and Archie could make out what appeared to be hieroglyphs etched into it.

  The entrance to the ship came in the form of a loading ramp. No sooner had it opened than the most terrible smell assaulted Archie’s nostrils. Through his time in the ambulance service, he had been around plenty of dead and decomposing bodies, and he had smelled some god-awful things, but this was far and away the worst thing to ever enter his nose. His eyes started to water as he fought back the almost overwhelming urge to vomit.

  As the ramp touched the ground, he hear
d the pitter patter of tiny feet that reminded him of the sound that children made as they walked. This was soon followed by a heavy…no, really heavy footstep. The smell was still causing Archie’s eyes to water, but wiping the fluid away, he saw that there were three Beings at the foot of the ramp. Two were small, almost child-like, if not for their bulbous heads – Greys. The third was huge. It looks like… no, it can’t be. His mind struggled to accept what his eyes were showing him. In front of him was the largest… reptile he had ever seen. It was at least seven-foot-tall, thick set with a thick tail that must have stretched to over six feet. Its elongated head was wider than Archie’s entire body. Why couldn’t they have all been the little guys? He thought as he slowly pulled the pistol from his waistband. The lizard was going to be a problem for sure, but he didn’t hold out much hope for the small ones – they’d be dead before they even knew what had hit them.