Chapter 12
TWELVE
Izan took his coffee down the hall, not sure where he was going but too restless to sit at the firehouse and wait for a call. Thankfully his shift had started an hour ago. Being here but not working made him feel way too cooped up.
On the wall of the community noticeboard in the hall, he spotted a flyer for the church Christmas decorating party.
His whole family would be in attendance tonight.
All except him. Which was normal if he was on shift, but maybe Ainsley was right to nudge him about Sunday dinners—if only for the fact Junior would be there.
Izan hadn’t been to many lately, and not just because he was on shift a lot.
Bryce had his office door open. “Collins, in here.”
Izan moved to the doorway. “Yes, Captain?”
Bryce leaned back in his office chair, an empty coffee cup beside his laptop.
The whole room was maybe twelve feet by eight, but at least it was bigger than the lieutenants’ offices.
Bryce was moving up in the world, freeing up the chief because Bryce could show up as the commander of a scene. “You had a run-in with Sosa?”
Izan lowered the mug from his mouth and winced. “Olivia was there. It turned out fine. Just a mild concussion, and Sosa ran off.”
Bryce shook his head. “Penny is out looking for him, working with the police. She’s determined to get him back behind bars as soon as possible.”
“I hope they find him and all the others before someone gets hurt.”
“She just messaged me. The cops found a body they think is Jason Vaynes’s accomplice. Apparently Junior and Olivia were doing a wellness check because no one else was available.”
Izan couldn’t believe that. “They’re both on sick leave.”
“And if you were here but not on shift, and a certain kind of call went out, wouldn’t you jump in the truck and go anyway? Because it would be all hands on deck.”
Izan sipped his coffee instead of answering that.
“Exactly.” Bryce eyed him. “For the record, they’re both fine. No bad guys.”
Izan was more relieved to hear that than he wanted to admit. “Just a dead guy?”
Bryce shrugged. Before he could say anything, the alarm rang through the firehouse.
“Rescue 5, Truck 14, Ambulance 21. Multi-car collision, mud slide, persons trapped. Multiple victims.” The voice continued, detailing the location.
Izan left his cup on the floor in the hall, tucked by the wall, and ran through to the engine bay. He climbed into the truck just as Amelia closed her door, and Della hit the gas, pulling out of the firehouse in front of rescue squad. Lights and sirens going.
No doubt Captain Crawford would accompany them in his SUV with the department emblem on the side, acting as the scene commander.
“What’s the situation?” Della asked, her grip tight on that big wheel.
Amelia scanned the information on the dash screen while the rain pounded down on the windshield.
“I didn’t realize it was coming down this hard.”
Izan glanced at Zoe, who sat beside him. “No?”
“It was only raining a little when I dropped the kids at the bus stop on my way here.” Zoe peered out the window.
Amelia said, “Part of the highway washed out because the rain caused a mudslide near Ridgeman’s Hill. Multiple cars. And the rain is only going to get worse. We’ll need all the straps and gear we’ve got. There are vehicles washed down the hillside.”
Izan worked the zipper up on his turnout coat under the seat belt and flipped up the collar of his jacket.
Della pulled over, the lights still flashing as they exited the truck.
The early-morning sky hung over them with a thick layer of dark-gray cloud, rain drenching everything in sight.
Across the road were expansive puddles of water.
The mud that had washed across the highway carried debris, branches, and rocks with it.
Amelia yelled orders over the rainfall, and Izan ran to the edge to see over.
The mud had washed down the hillside to the west, across the road and then over an embankment on the east side, where it had sent the cars down the hillside.
He saw a couple of people hanging out their windows, waving. Terrified expressions on their faces.
Izan turned on his helmet lights and waved back. He made his way down a few feet, but his boots sank into the mud. He yelled, “Stay where you are! We’ll come to you.”
Ridge came up behind him. “You’re going down.” He tethered a rope around Izan’s waist and connected it to a tree, using himself as a counterweight. “Good to go?”
Izan yelled back, “Yes!”
He felt the rope slack and started to walk down the hill, sticking to the area beside the flowing mud. The closest car had gotten itself hung up on a tree and wound up stuck. Which was good, because it meant Izan could make his way over.
He reached the open window, and the woman in the front seat jumped out. He managed to catch her without them both going down, adjusting his hold on her. “Anyone else in the car?”
“Just me!” She whimpered. “I was going to pick up my kids, and now I’ll be late.”
“Let’s see if we can get you partway.” He had her shift around so she was on his back, and the rope tightened.
He gave a hand signal, and they pulled him up while he walked, keeping him steady as he carried the weight of this terrified woman up the hill to the others.
To solid ground, where she would be safe.
Once he’d deposited the woman at the top of the hill, he went back down to another car. Zack and Eddie did the same, the ropes controlled by truck firefighters. All of them working as a team to save people.
The next vehicle he reached was a pickup truck half buried in the mud. He didn’t see anyone, so when he got close, Izan pounded on the side window. “Anyone in here! Can you hear me? Fire department!”
He tugged the driver’s door open and braced one hand so he could grab his radio. “This one is clear. There’s no one inside.”
But the vehicle hadn’t been cleared by any of the other firefighters. Where had the occupants gone? Because there was zero chance the pickup had washed down here with no one driving it.
He tuned out the shouts and realized what he was looking at.
Orange jumpsuits crumpled in a ball on the floor of the pickup.
“This is the escape vehicle.” His hand shook on the radio. “The one the cops said they fled in. It’s here.” With no one inside it. Thankfully, because he had no desire to come face-to-face with one of those convicts. Especially not in a situation like this.
He looked around while rain soaked down his face and into the collar of his shirt.
Captain Crawford came back over the radio. “I’ll inform the police they need to tow that into evidence. Any sign of the convicts?”
“I’ll keep searching.” Izan slid the door closed so the rain didn’t wash away all the evidence. “Maybe they’re here.”
“Be careful.”
Izan signed off, going around the van to another car farther down the hill. Who knew how far some of the cars had been washed down?
He spotted a couple of their firefighters making their way down the stable dirt beside the wash of mud and debris, going to the end of the devastation. They would find out how far the farthest vehicle had traveled and make sure every single victim was rescued. That no one was missed or forgotten.
Kind of like the way Izan had been rescued as a child. He hadn’t done anything, but he’d been cared for and placed with people who had raised him in a good home.
Kind of like the way he’d been saved by Jesus Christ. Rescued. Set free. Cared for enough that God hadn’t let him slip through the cracks to suffer destruction.
If Izan had the chance, he was going to share that with anyone who wanted to listen. He wanted the lost and forgotten to know that he’d been rescued, and they could be as well. He wasn’t the Savior, even if he did that sometimes as part of his job, but he could point them in the right direction.
Toward the cross.
His feet slipped out from under him, and he slid through the mud to slam against the side of a Jeep. Inside the car, he spotted a terrified couple in the front seats. The driver, a male, rolled his window down. “Help us.”
Izan nodded. “I’m going to get you out of there.”