Hunter
Spring is finally here and I’m gliding through traffic on my motorcycle to the station. This past winter was brutal, which was to be expected. I knew it would be, but I missed my bike. It’s been nice to have her out to ride lately, now that the weather’s been more compliant.
I reach the station and park alongside some of the crew. Taking off my helmet, I’m met by Malloy walking in.
“Well, good morning, Mr. Baylee.” I snicker.
“Good morning. You just love calling me that, huh?” He laughs.
“I do. You’re smitten,” I tell him.
The way he looks at his wife is truly awe-inspiring and I like seeing my friend so enamored.
“She does make me happy.” He smiles.
“There’s nothing wrong with that. How is the semester treating her?” I ask.
“Good. Glad she decided to push those two classes to next semester, delaying her finish to next December. I think this spring would’ve been too much on her if she had taken all those classes right now.
Now she can focus on what she needs, and still walk in May, but finish the coursework with time in the fall. ”
“Good. I bet she’s happier. And her job?” I ask.
“She likes it,” he says, “it’s flexible hours and walking distance from the apartment.”
Baylee got a job at a cafe near their place and she seems to like it. They have early hours, but they don’t stay open late, which Malloy says she prefers.
Right as we’re going inside, Rios approaches and greets us both.
“Good morning,” he says, then looks over at Malloy. “Good morning, Malloy.”
“Morning,” he says back.
Rios walks ahead and Malloy stands at the doorway.
“You okay?” I ask him.
“I guess that’s progress. That’s the first time he’s greeted me in a personal way at work.”
“Baby steps,” I tell him.
“Yeah. It’ll never be what it was before and that’s okay. But hopefully the tension will start to lift for the sake of our families.”
“I agree,” I say as we make our way to the lockers to deposit our belongings before getting a report from the previous crew.
I’m still a probie, with a few more months left of my one-year probationary period. Time’s flying and I’m really enjoying firefighting. I find the work satisfying, and I like the camaraderie. It’s the brotherhood that I was seeking after leaving the military.
The life I had back in Nevada was miserable and I haven’t been back since graduating high school. I have nothing left there. The family I was born into only shares blood with me. Aside from that, they gave me nothing and I haven’t looked back.
Throughout the years, I’ve gotten to pick and choose who will be in my life and I feel blessed with the people that surround me.
These guys are part of that because they have truly become a part of my chosen family.
As we prepare for our shift, checking our gear and washing the truck—the laughter and interactions between them—I feel so grateful I survived so much to come back to this life.
We get everything in order, and a few hours go by seamlessly. Right as we’re about to go inside to get some food, the alarm goes off for a call. We make our way to the truck.
The sun is beating down now that the day is well underway.
As we drive into the city, I realize the address is an elementary school.
My heart accelerates, realizing this might be a child we’re dealing with.
Those calls always make me a little more anxious.
When a call comes in, the most we know is it’s a medical emergency from the nature of the call, not if the person is an adult or child.
We park the truck outside the school and personnel are waiting for us out front, directing us to where the emergency is. Our captain is getting information and we listen in as we walk through to where the injured person is needing our attention.
“Anaphylaxis in one of our kindergarteners. He was playing after lunch and got stung by a bee. He’s allergic.
Seems to have escalated quickly. They gave him a dose of Benadryl.
Then they gave him a shot of the EpiPen, but he’s still having a reaction.
He’s puffing up really bad. The swelling is everywhere on his face. ”
We are all listening in as we make our way through. I’m taking mental notes. Anaphylaxis is a serious issue and can indeed escalate quickly. All those interventions with no relief is worrisome. We pick up our pace as we continue to the nurse’s office.
We see some commotion at a small office up ahead. Now that I take in my surroundings, this school looks like a private one, with state-of-the-art facilities. That being said, this nurse’s office is tiny, yet so many people are congregated inside, I assume, around this child.
“Alright everyone, please step aside, and let us take a look,” River announces. He can be serious and commanding when he needs to.
Everyone looks panicked, some adults and students are in the small space, and they clear a path.
“Like he said, please step aside. If you’re a nurse, you can stay. But anyone else, please move outside. You can wait there, but we need you out of the way please. Thank you,” Clay says.
I crouch down, my role is to take vitals. I put my equipment by the child’s side and start to evaluate the allergic reaction. The boy is quite puffy. His eyes are almost completely shut and he has hives all over.
“Hey, buddy,” I say. “My name’s Tyler Hunter. But these guys call me Hunter. Can you talk or is your tongue swollen?”
“I can talk but it feels a little funny in the back of my throat,” he explains.
“Alright. What’s your name?” I ask.
“Noah,” he says.
“Hi, Noah,” I say. “Can you open your mouth for me so I can check for swelling?”
He does as I ask. “Good job. Your tongue doesn’t look swollen, which is good. Your eyes are pretty swollen, which probably feels uncomfortable, huh?”
He nods. “I’m just going to keep looking around your arms, neck, and head. I have to see where the hives are. Is that okay with you?”
He nods again. “If you start feeling anything else, just let me know.”
“Okay,” he answers.
“And my buddy, Clay, will be helping me out here.”
Clay introduces himself .
We start assessing him and taking note where the hives are.
The nurse is giving her report to our captain, and I overhear that the sting was on a spot that may have been near an artery.
From my experience, it could have simply hit the blood stream and I wonder if that accounts for why it spread so quickly.
She got the stinger out quickly. But even so, if his allergy is severe, that could be why he had such a significant reaction.
“Were his parents called?” I ask.
“His mother was called,” the nurse tells me. “She works nearby. She should be here shortly.”
Even though Noah most likely can’t see me due to the swelling around his eyes, I still crouch down directly in front of him as if he could see me. “Noah, your mom’s been called, but you’ll have to take a trip to the hospital in our cool ambulance. Okay, bud?”
“I’m scared,” he says with such a small voice.
“I know, but you know what?” I say.
“What?” he asks.
“You get the cool lights on,” I tell him.
“Promise?” he asks, only slightly amused, his fear still at the forefront of his thoughts.
“Promise,” I tell him.
We start getting Noah onto the gurney and I talk to him the entire time so he’s not scared throughout the process. I’m about to walk away when he calls for me.
“Hunter, don’t go. I want my mommy.” His little hand reaches for me.
“It’s okay, buddy.” I grab his hand. “You’re in good hands.”
“Will you stay with me until she gets here?” he pleads.
“Oh, um.” Shoot. I look over for some help, but the guys are packing stuff up. His gurney isn’t moving just yet as they’re trying to facilitate moving the equipment onto the bottom of the gurney .
“Sure, I’ll walk with you. Let me just put my things under the gurney, okay?” I tell him.
“Okay.”
I bend over and start packing up some of my supplies when I hear a woman’s voice yell out.
“I’m here. Noah, Mommy’s here. Baby, I’m so sorry!” She sounds desperate.
But that’s not what has me shooting upright. She sounds familiar; it’s a voice I haven’t heard in years.
It’s a voice that I’d recognize anywhere.
It’s a voice that has pulled me from my hardest moments when I felt like I was never going to make it home.
It’s the voice that brought me home.
It’s her voice.
I feel her presence at the gurney, and I turn around.
I’m standing next to the woman from my past. She’s focused on Noah, doting over her son, who sounds relieved to know his mother is by his side.
She hasn’t noticed me yet. But I’m stunned in place.
I’m paralyzed by her presence. It’s like all my air has vanished from my lungs.
She’s taken my air because it’s always been hers, since that night.
I continue to stand there. She must sense me and she turns to look over. It’s then I see the shock overtake her features when she realizes it’s me.
“Ty?”
“Indy…”
River walks up to us. “Do you two know each other?”
She stammers, “Um, yeah, we, uh?—”
“Yeah. She’s my wife,” I finally say.
Find out how the Boston Embers series concludes with the love story between Hunter and Indiana in Embers in Our Souls coming in fall 2025. Preorder NOW .