Chapter 25 Liam
The October air bit through my jacket as I walked to my truck.
He was right. I did miss it… but I was good at this too.
Two weeks in, and the crew was starting to trust me. Carlos had clapped my shoulder after the training drill this morning. Jenkins had asked my opinion on updating the ladder protocols. Small victories, but they mattered.
I unlocked my truck and tossed my bag in the passenger seat. Most of the day shift was gone now; only a few cars from the night crew lined the lot. The station was theirs for the next twelve hours.
I pulled out onto the street, turned left toward my apartment. It was Friday night, and most people would be heading out to dinner, to bars, meeting up with friends.
I was going home to leftover pizza and whatever was on Netflix.
Two weeks back in Riverside and I hadn't done anything except work and visit my parents. Hadn't gone to McGinty's with the crew when they'd invited me last week. Hadn't driven past Main Street unless I had to. Hadn't let myself think too much about—
My radio crackled to life.
"All units, structure fire at 2847 Maple Street. Residential. Heavy smoke and flames reported. Possible entrapment. Multiple agencies responding."
Maple Street, on the east side. Residential neighborhood.
I was off duty, so the night shift would handle it. That's how it worked—you clocked out, you went home, you let the next crew do their job.
My hands tightened on the steering wheel.
Possible entrapment.
I pulled a U-turn and headed east.
The smoke was visible three blocks out, with thick, black column punching into the darkening sky. I could see the glow of flames reflecting off the neighboring houses, hear sirens converging from multiple directions.
I pulled up behind Engine 47. The on-duty shift Captain, Elliot Reeves, was already establishing command, radio in hand, crew deploying hose lines. The house was fully involved, flames through every first-floor window, heavy smoke pouring from the second.
Reeves saw me and jogged over. “Captain. You're off duty."
"I know. What do we have?"
"Two-story residential. Fire started in the garage, spread fast. Homeowner got out, says there's someone on the second floor." He gestured toward a woman being treated by paramedics across the street. "Her son. Twenty-three years old. She thinks he's still up there."
I looked at the house. The stairs would be compromised. The first floor was an inferno, and the second floor… the smoke was too thick to see anything.
"We need to get in there," Reeves said.
I looked at the structure. Really looked at it.
The front wall was bowing outward. The windows on the second floor were intact but smoke was pouring from every gap. The garage was gone, swallowed by flame, with the fire already tearing into the main structure. As I watched, part of the roof sagged.
"No," I said. "We go defensive."
"Captain—"
"Look at that wall. And the roof. That's coming down in minutes." I turned to Reeves. "Pull your team back and protect the exposures. We're not sending anyone in there."
Reeves stared at me. "There's a victim inside."
"I know." My voice came out harder than I meant it to. "And I'm not trading lives for a body. We don't have time for a safe interior attack."
It was the right call. The only call.
It felt like absolute shit.
Reeves hesitated, then nodded. Started coordinating the defensive strategy, with hose lines targeting the neighboring houses, keeping the fire contained and allowing the structure to burn itself out.
I stood there staring at the house. Someone's son was in there. Just a kid, twenty-three years old. And we were going to let him burn because the math didn't work.
Battalion Chief Harlow pulled up, helmet low over his brow, that unflappable look he always wore. He took one glance at the scene, then nodded.
"Good call going defensive, Captain. That structure's minutes from collapse."
I was about to coordinate with Harlow when a paramedic ran up, panicked.
"Captain! We're missing someone. One of our EMTs came in off-duty, was first on scene. His partner says he heard someone screaming and went in before anyone could stop him."
Blood froze in my veins.
"He went in?" I looked at the house. "When?"
"Five, maybe six minutes ago. Before your units arrived. We thought he'd come back out but—"
Six minutes. In that heat, that smoke. The stairs could have collapsed. The floor could have given way.
"We have to get him out," the paramedic said.
Harlow was already shaking his head. "Structure's too compromised. We'd be sending people in to die."
"Chief—"
"I'm sorry, but we don't trade lives."
The paramedic looked like he might argue, but Harlow was right. By every measure, every protocol, sending someone in was suicide.
"Daniel's been in there too long," the paramedic said, voice breaking. "He’s… God, someone has to—"
The world tilted.
Could it be…?
“Daniel?” I repeated, eyes on the EMT. “What’s his last name?”
“Collins, I think. Daniel Collins.”
The name hit like a hose line to the chest.
I’d seen that name before on a mutual-aid report from a rollover last month. County Medic 5. EMT Daniel Collins.
A week later, he’d stopped by the station to drop off the paperwork. I’d recognized him then—same guy I’d seen at the bakery with Piper. She’d been laughing, sunlight in her hair, his hand resting on top of hers.
Daniel Collins.
Piper’s boyfriend.
And he was still inside.
I looked at the house. At the flames eating through the structure. At the roof sagging, ready to collapse at any moment.
If Daniel died in there…
If I let him die…
She'd never recover. Not from that. Not after everything I'd already put her through.
"Captain Sullivan." Harlow’s voice cut through my thoughts. "I know what you're thinking. Don't."
I turned to look at him. "Two people are in there now."
"And sending more in won't save them. It'll just give us more bodies to recover."
He was right. By every protocol, every standard, every piece of training I'd ever had… he was right.
But Piper's face flashed through my mind. Not the way she'd looked at the pool two weeks ago, guarded and careful. The way she'd looked at me six years ago, when she still loved me. When she still believed I was someone worth loving. Before I'd destroyed that.
I couldn't give her that back.
I couldn't undo the cheating, the lying, the four months of betrayal that had blown up her life. But this…
I could do this.
I started toward the engine, toward my turnout gear.
"Captain.” Harlow stepped forward.
"I'm technically off duty, Chief. Not under your command." I knew it was bullshit, but I didn’t care. I pulled my coat from the truck. "And I'm going in alone."
"Liam—"
"Alone, Chief. This is on me."
Carlos stepped forward. "Captain, I will—"
"Stay here." I cut him off. "That's an order. Nobody else goes in."
I pulled on my coat and helmet, then checked my mask. Everything moved with muscle memory, years of training taking over while my brain stayed focused on one thing: get in, find them, get out.
Harlow grabbed my arm. "That building is going to collapse. You go in there, you might not come out."
"I know."
"Is it worth it?"
I looked at the house. At the smoke. At the flames.
Thought of Piper sitting in that pool, water streaming down her face, looking at me like I was a stranger. She deserved better than me.
Always had.
But she also deserved to not lose someone else because I was too much of a coward to act.
"Yeah," I said. "It is."
I pulled on my mask and headed toward the fire.
The heat hit me before I reached the door, waves of it rolling out so intensely I could feel it through my gear. The smoke was thick, black, the kind that told you everything inside was burning.
Behind me, someone shouted. Harlow, maybe. Or Carlos. I didn't turn around.
I breached the doorway.
The world disappeared into darkness and heat. Visibility was zero, just smoke so thick I couldn't see my own hands. The roar of the fire was everywhere, punctuated by the groan of the structure settling, ready to collapse.
I dropped low and followed the wall. My breathing echoed in my mask, steady, controlled.
Find them.
Get out.
Don't think about anything else.
The stairs were ahead, somewhere in the smoke. If they were still standing, if Daniel had made it up them, if either of them were still alive…
A beam creaked overhead. Something crashed in another room.
I kept moving forward.