By Sean Webby and Julia Prodis Sulek Mercury News

As frantic calls came in from workers at the Cupertino cement quarry, a dispatcher encouraged them to try to save the men dying of gunshot wounds on the trailer floor beside them. Get clean towels and cloths, the dispatcher said. Press firmly.

“There’s no cloth that’s going to stop what’s going on here,” said Mike Ambrosio, who had blood gushing from his arm. “Have you ever seen a massacre? That’s what it looks like right here in the office.”

The survivor’s surreal 911 conversation, released by the Santa Clara County Sheriff’s Office on Thursday, was one of five often chilling calls caught from the chaotic moments of Oct. 5, just after Shareef Allman opened fire on his co-workers during a morning meeting in a trailer at Lehigh Hanson’s Permanente Cement Plant.

By the time Allman was through, he had shot 10 people, killing three and wounding seven, among them Ambrosio and a woman shot a few miles away in the Hewlett-Packard parking lot in Sunnyvale. A 27-hour manhunt ensued, ending the next morning when sheriff’s deputies discovered him hiding in a Sunnyvale driveway. When Allman threatened the officers with a handgun, police say, officers fired. In the melee, Allman fatally shot himself in the head.

The 20 minutes of calls were released with the names and phones numbers erased by the Sheriff’s Office. The Ambrosio family identified Mike Ambrosio’s voice.

The recordings begin with an unidentified employee calling from a control room, saying that he just heard there was a shooting, but didn’t know who did it or how many were shot. Within minutes, the horrific details began pouring in to dispatchers from men who survived the bloody rampage in the trailer but were clearly in shock.

As many times as dispatchers asked where the wounded men were located to help rescuers find them at the sprawling facility, they kept responding, “Right next to me.”

A breathless man, who ran from the trailer to the phone in another area, begged for help to come quickly.

“Please help! We need the police. Somebody shot everybody.”

When the dispatcher asked how many had been shot, he said: “Almost everybody in the quarry. Please. Please help. They are gonna die in their arms.” He started to cry.

Another worker was the first to identify Allman by name and to describe the bizarre and bloody scene.

“The guy came late to work and he got a cup of coffee, he went outside the back door of the lockers and he came back through the same, through the same door. He got like a, like a, a rifle, an assault rifle and also a handgun, it was more like … it was more like an AK — and a handgun. He started shooting with a handgun.”

For the callers, emergency crews couldn’t get there fast enough.

“There are people dying right now. There is one right here.”

Then he handed the phone to Ambrosio, who described what happened.

“We were having a safety meeting and one guy went postal.”

Ambrosio couldn’t tell exactly where he was shot, but he felt the heat from his wounds.

“I’m OK. I got shot in the arms and I think one in my leg. There’s blood coming out everywhere,” he said, “but it’s not me I’m worried about. It’s my supervisor. He got shot in the heart.”

That supervisor, Jose Hernandez, remains hospitalized.

When Ambrosio told the dispatcher that a towel would do little to help the multiple casualties at his feet and he pleaded for an ambulance to come quickly, the dispatcher said: “I understand, just because there’s a lot of blood doesn’t mean that there’s no help you can give these people.”

“These people are dying,” he said. “They’re yelling. What do you do?”

Every deputy on duty is on the way, she said, ambulances, fire engines. “Everybody’s on their way, sir,” she said.

Just then, a faint mumbling is heard in the background of the recording. Ambrosio comes back on the line.

“What happened?” the dispatcher asked.

“One of the guys just came in and said he died already. He’s dead.”

As rescuers tended to the wounded and police spread out from the quarry looking for Allman, a woman called 911 from the HP office complex on Homestead Road.

“Hi, I was driving to my work in the parking lot,” a woman said, “and then I saw a lady lying on the parking ground and one guy was leaning over.”

He seemed to be taking something from her purse. As she drove past him, he fired at her car.

“I’m afraid for the safety of the woman,” she said. “He was trying to take something from her.”

The dispatcher told her to stay inside the office building and have HP security lock the doors.

What about her car? she asked.

“Don’t worry about your car, worry about yourself,” the dispatcher said. “Go inside. Stay inside and contact security. We’ve got help on the way.”

Later police found that a bullet had passed through the woman’s windshield.

The family of Mark Muñoz, a 59-year-old worker slain at the quarry, listened to the recordings online.

“I felt a deep sadness listening to the mayhem my father, his co-workers and friends had to face at 4 a.m.,” said Mark Muñoz Jr. “The shock and horror is crystal clear in their voices.”

They also gave thanks in a written statement to the family, friends and community members who helped support them: “Words cannot express how much we thank you for the expressions of sympathy and love provided to our family during our moment of sorrow. We are truly grateful for each and every one of your support.”

Contact Sean Webby at [email protected] or 408-920-5003.