Selena and Joe: an Improbable New Beginning
Chapter 2

Copyright© 2011 by Pettybox

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - Selena and Joe was a popular story and rolled off the keyboard easy because I knew how it would end. I lost a few friends in the 911 attacks,the characters Joe and Selena were based on them. To this day I get emails from people who want me to change the ending and continue the story, or give it a heroic ending. I never gave much thought until a regular reader of my stories sent me an article from a UK paper of a man who was GONE for 5 years and woke as if nothing happened....Enjoy...Petty

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Romantic   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation  

Scott and Betty hadn’t packed for an overnight trip, so they drove back home and packed for a few days and were off for New Jersey the next morning hoping to get some questions answered. Their hopes were cautiously high that at the very least they might find a more fitting closure.

Going into the administration office at Christian Hospital in Jersey City with the story they had seemed a little crazy in itself, but it was all they had to go on. After a 90 minute wait they were able to get into to talk to a department head and luckily it was someone who was there and worked on 911. But, Shelly Peters seemed reluctant to help them out. The Hospital had recently went digital so old records were now saved and accessible through a data-base. Ms. Peters, feeling cornered, finally relented and agreed to bring up the information on the day

“OK, I see here who worked the ambulance crews that day and the times they logged in. One got the early call and was going over to help, obviously not knowing the magnitude of the situation. They didn’t get cleared until after 7 pm that night and no one works 12 hour shifts on an ambulance. There were problems there for sure, this may be the one you want. Let me see, the medic on duty was E Richards. Emory Richards is now a surgical staffer now, but I do have his notes here. Let me see if he’s in house right now. He may remember more if he can read his notes, besides I just have a picture of his handwritten log sheet and he may read it much better.” Shelly said as she pored over the computer screen and punched her phone to page.

“One nineteen, dial three one seven. One nineteen, dial three one seven.” was the page heard through-out the halls as the Hansons sat and waited while Shelly Peters tried to make sense of the notes.

After 3 or 4 minutes Shelly’s phone rang and she nodded as she listened, then hung up.

“Dr. Richards is in surgery right now, but his staff nurse says he has a break after this procedure and he’ll call me. If you could wait in the anteroom I’ll call for you.” Shelly told them.

It wasn’t long before a tall, good looking man in surgical greens came in and walked past the secretary saying, “Shell paged me?” and opened the door to Peters office.

Scott and Betty looked at each other and stood hoping to be paged in right away. Scott didn’t want a word to be said, or opinion projected, out of his earshot. After a few second wait to be called, they walked right into the office despite the secretary’s protest.

Dr. Richards was already crouched over Peters shoulder looking at his notes and Scott Hanson, in a very indignant tone, lashed out.

“Excuse me for barging in, but suddenly I get the feeling that there’s a lot of ass covering here. I only want the truth and to find my daughter. Considering we’ve thought she was incinerated in the towers, anything is a plus. I’m not here to damn anyone, I’m only looking for answers. Edison Mental Studies asked you last week for information on a woman answering her description being admitted on 9/11 and were turned away. We’ve already established she was in an ambulance that should have brought her here. What gives?” He demanded.

Betty reached into her purse and took out a photo of Selena and held it up for Richards to see.

“Is this the woman that was brought to your ambulance on 9/11 while you were stuck in the Holland Tunnel traffic?” She asked.

Emory Richards stood up straight and exhaled deeply.

“Yes, that’s her. Sit down and let me tell you what I remember and what I’ve written here in my notes.”

“Before you start, is she alive? Do you know?” Betty Hanson asked, tears of hope streaming from her eyes.

“As far as I know, and the last I knew, yes.” Emory answered, being non-committal, while Shelly Peters sighed in disgust.

“Understand, there was no primer for that day. We usually cruise the Pulaski Skyway until 9 or so to cover accidents and other calls. When the news of the first plane hit we decided to go over and see if we could help. There was a 911 mayday call for any ambulances in the area. We weren’t aware of the magnitude of it all and got stuck in the tunnel traffic near 9:30. Nothing moved and around 10:30 or 11 we started to see people walking out of the tunnel, some abandoning cars, but some walking from the site. Those walking from the site all had blank looks of panic or terror and just had to head to their homes the only way possible. They were like zombies in a panic stupor, shocked. Everything else was stopped. We saw and treated some minor injuries as we waited for the traffic snarl to be undone. After seeing and hearing the buildings fall there was panic everywhere. I make no indications of time in my notes, but guessing I would say around11:30 we were told that people were no longer being allowed to “escape” New York through the tunnel, but the police were short staffed to stop the crush of people wanting to get out. Every responder was being sent to the site. We started seeing people covered in the ash or whatever; people who were close to the site when the towers came down. The man who brought whom you say is your daughter was delirious to a point, but determined to keep going. He chanted “got to run, got to run”. The woman could barely stand and held herself up on the man. He saw us and asked for help saying they had fallen down some stairs while getting out of the building, that he couldn’t carry her anymore. She was a mess, almost catatonic and had several cuts. Her clothes were pretty bloody when you looked close, they were dark. He, he was frantic, wanting to run, but wanting to know where we would take her. I wondered how far he could get; his one knee was so twisted as he tried to run. He knelt over her in the ambulance telling her he would be waiting. The moment he left she went wide eyed and unresponsive. We tracked her vitals and called the hospital to get any instructions. They just said to keep her warm and out of shock. I thought we were past that. She seemed catatonic.” Emory told them as Scott held onto his crying wife.

“In the panic of it all I made several errors. I should have gotten their names. I should have stopped him from leaving. I found she had a severe blow to the back of her head and even wondered if he had inflicted that upon her. He was already gone and I wanted to go after him, trying to make use of my training to not let a situation get out of hand. I only got 500 yards or so in pursuit of him when the other medic radioed me that the woman had coded. I rushed back to discover she had swallowed her tongue and I managed to free it for her. I performed CPR and she was breathing easily in a few minutes. I don’t think she was without oxygen for more than a couple minutes, if that. We kept her stable, but didn’t get free from the traffic until almost 4 o’clock or so. It had to be after 5 or later when we got to the hospital, and her brother, or father, whoever he was, was nowhere to be found.” Emory Richards finished, holding his head on the verge of his own tears.

He sat back and gathered himself and continued as he looked at his watch, knowing he was due in surgery soon.

“I know they took her right into surgery after a couple MRI’s. I think she had a rib broken, close to puncturing her lung and they removed a blood clot close to the blow on the back of her head. The notes here say it was consistent with a fall down stairs because I said I wondered if she had been assaulted. I checked on her every couple days. They were keeping kept her restrained, fearing she might hurt herself. When they would wean her off medications, she would rage. They identified her as Sue Johnson, because she whispered it to someone when she was asked. After 10 days with no one claiming her or any active missing person for her she became a ward of the state. The fact she was a survivor of the Tower attack was in my notes, it shows nowhere else. I’m deeply ashamed that I never followed up on that.

Originally they took her to Hackensack University Medical for evaluation and treatment. Just out of interest because I wanted to be a doctor and I wasn’t sure what field, I kept tabs on her and even visited her once at Hackensack, along with other patients I had been involved with. I remember that they said she wouldn’t speak, and trusted few. Paranoid schizophrenic with great memory loss was on her chart, I remember. I wondered about that diagnosis because when I went through the ward, she never took her eyes off me. I didn’t interact with her, I was told that would have been unprofessional, but she did remember me. The next time I asked about her they said she had been moved to Hampden Behavioral Health, a couple hours from here. I’m not sure if she is still there or not, but that is a great facility because they don’t use any heavy drugs or shock therapy there, just lots of one on one.”

 
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