Chapter 7 #3
The heat from the fire is brutal, even at seventy-five feet out. Greene’s on the nozzle with me backing him up.
I’ve never been to war, but I think this is probably what it feels like.
There’s danger literally everywhere I look, but I have to focus on the task I’ve been given and try not to think about the office windows exploding or the way the fire’s eating through the interior of the building like my brother with his sandwich.
“Steady spray!” Hugh orders over the radio. “Wide pattern. We’re trying to cool the exterior. Adjust your angle, Greene.”
He breaks off transmission, but he’s coughing so loud I can hear him from twenty feet away over the roar of the fire.
“Hugh,” I say into my radio. “Step back. I can lead.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he says, giving in at last. “I was helping Delphi at the tree line, making sure we’re not getting spot fires. Will you replace me? ”
“Negative. Greene and I are supposed to stick together?—”
“Could use some help over here!” Delphi sounds panicked. He’s not a probie, but he’s not too far off from it.
“ Fuck ,” I mutter under my breath. I poke Greene’s back. “You got this?” I demand. “You’re line of sight to, like, five other people. You need help, you call for it.”
“I got it, Axford,” he assures me with an eye roll.
I push down my misgivings and start running.
I’m almost around the corner of the building to Delphi when I hear a clang-clang-clang coming from inside the building. The disconcerting sound of trapped steam bursting metal rivets.
I look over my shoulder, and I know Greene’s heard it, too, when I see his head whip toward the building.
“Greene,” I yell into the radio. “Stay exactly where you are, you hear me? That sounds like a boiler about to burst.”
“What’s going on?” Robbie demands in my ear. “Axford, Hugh, report.”
“Hugh’s out. Taking a breather. I have eyes on Greene, but?—”
“I hear someone in there!” Greene shouts. “Someone’s banging to get our attention!”
He’s not using his radio, so I can barely hear him, but I can see him pointing at the building, and I can see his lips moving.
“It’s abandoned,” I tell him through the radio. “Hugh said the first team cleared it! You heard him. The noise wasn’t a person. Hold the line.”
But Greene’s staring at the building, eyes wide, and as I watch, he drops the freaking hose .
The only other person close is Kaur, and she’s struggling under the weight of a hose she’s managing herself, which means I’m the one who has to go after this ass-clown and drag him out before he gets too far.
“Fuckkkkkkk!” I scream into the night. Into the radio, I say, “Delphi, hang tight. Firefighter Greene approaching the structure. Repeat, firefighter approaching—no, fuck, entering the goddamn structure on the western side,” I correct as I watch Greene kick through the exterior door.
“Do not—!” Robbie yells, but it’s too late to stop the probie.
Or me.
I’m already running after Greene, checking my regulator as my mind splits between utter fury at this reckless kid and muscle memory taking over. I will be angry—so fucking angry—at him later, but I can’t let him die tonight.
As I reach the door, I catch a glimpse of Robbie across the scene. He’s looking right at me, and even across fifty yards of chaos, even through my face shield and his face shield, I see his eyes are wide and terrified, and he’s shaking his head no .
I’m sorry , I tell him mentally, wishing for once that he could peer into my brain so he’d hear. I’m so sorry for worrying you .
Then I’m diving through the door into smoke so thick it swallows the beam from my helmet light. I can’t see a hand in front of my face, let alone fucking Greene. The heat is unbelievable, even through my turnout gear. The structure groans around us, timbers creaking and crackling and popping.
“Greene,” I shout into my radio. I can hear my own heavy breathing through my regulator. “Greene, where the fuck are you? Get out now.”
“No way! I heard something, dude. Someone’s banging,” Greene calls. “I went left, near the stairs?—”
“Ames!” Robbie’s panicked voice breaks through the radio. “Status!”
A crash sounds somewhere deeper in the building—metal screaming, glass popping—followed by a violent shudder under my boots. The floor jumps like it’s trying to buck me off.
“Get out, Greene!” I scream. “I’m telling you, the only idiots in this building are you and me! The ceiling’s coming down! Get out !”
“I can’t see the door!” Greene yells back, his voice warped and distant, swallowed by smoke and sirens and the roar of the fire. “Where?—?”
“I’ve got eyes on Greene!” Hugh yells, but I can’t tell if he’s inside or outside. “Head for the window, kid!”
I spin, searching for Greene or Hugh or the damn window, but everything’s gray and brown and moving wrong.
The smoke isn’t rising anymore; it’s rolling now—thick and fast and low. My light barely cuts through it.
Then I hear a deep, groaning creak overhead like wood complaining. Like steel warping. It’s an unmistakable warning sign every firefighter learns to fear early on.
The building shifts like a tree in the wind—no, worse , like a ship caught broadside in a storm. I can feel the pressure change in my ears.
“Everyone, out! It’s coming down!” I shout into the radio, but the words barely make it past my lips when the wall beside me buckles .
Sheetrock explodes at me, and a massive slab clips me across the chest hard enough to knock the breath clean out of my lungs. I hit the floor on my back, the impact driving my tank into my spine and knocking my helmet askew, just as something else crashes down mere inches from me.
My air alarm starts screaming.
I try to suck in a breath, but the regulator’s not responding right, maybe knocked loose from my fall. My chest burns where the debris hit me, and my limbs feel slow and heavy.
“Ames! Ames, answer me, damn it!”
Robbie’s voice comes through the radio sharp and raw. He sounds?—
God, god , he sounds terrified. I’ve never heard Robbie this out-of-control scared. Not in eleven years on the job. Not once.
I reach for my radio, fingers clumsy in my gloves, but my arm shakes and won’t respond right. My body won’t do what I tell it to.
The pain is unbearable.
I want to answer Robbie— need to answer. Robbie should never sound like he’s breaking apart, like he’s already mourning me. But there’s no breath left in my body. No air to push the words out.
The heat presses in from every side. The noise dulls, like someone’s turning the world’s volume down. My vision narrows until all I can see is the faint glow of my flashlight cutting a useless cone through smoke.
And stupidly—selfishly—the only thing I can think is:
I wish I’d gotten to kiss you just once, Robbie.
Just once. Just to know .
I wish I’d told you how much I love you. Not only as your best friend but as so much more.
I love you, Robbie , I think.
The radio crackles again. My name, repeated over and over. But the weight’s settled heavier over my chest, darkness is closing in…
And I stop thinking altogether.