From the Embers (Firehouse 99 #9)

Prologue

Denver

Twenty-three years ago…

The roar of engines wakes me out of an already restless slumber. I’ve been tossing and turning all night. It’s strange for me because I usually sleep like a baby with no troubles at all.

But there’s something different about tonight. The still air is almost eerily calm, at least it was when I turned in for the night. The sky had turned an ethereal dark blue before the deep red sunset shadowed its mark over the top of the landscape.

Me and Daryl—my best friend and neighbor from across the street—were playing video games earlier, until his older sister, Carrie, came in with her new telescope because she claimed the best view was from Daryl’s bedroom window.

Their little white maltese, Sammy, was jumping at her heels excitedly.

Maybe he was feeling the energy of her excitement of what tonight’s viewing would bring.

And then his little sister, Adelaide, chimed in on the act.

“Sisters are so annoying,” Daryl complained as Carrie busily set up her new contraption like we weren’t even there.

I didn’t mind it so much—Carrie often bakes cookies with her mom and they’re pretty good cooks if you ask me.

Adelaide, even though she’s only four, likes to decorate them.

Their chunky chocolate chips are the absolute bomb.

I’m always down for a snack at Daryl’s place and his mom doesn’t seem to mind us eating them out of house and home.

With very little sleep behind my eyes, I rub them, throw the duvet back, and hop out of bed into the warmth of the Chicago summer.

Maybe it’s the heat that has kept me restless tonight, I don’t really know, but as I shuffle over to the window to see what all the commotion is about, my bedroom door suddenly flies open, making me jump.

“Denver!” My father’s voice sounds frantic, and him bursting in like this has a wash of dread coating me from head to toe. My blood runs cold at his face, which is half ashen, half relieved to see me.

“Dad?” I manage. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes soften as he walks toward me just as I pull the curtains back, my eyes widening as they focus on what’s happening below.

Across the street there’s flashing lights. Sirens. Chaos. Smoke.

My eyes find Daryl’s house, diagonally opposite to ours. Their place is red brick with white trim, black shutters that frame the windows, and a charcoal gabled roof.

But staring at it now in horror—engulfed in flames—I don’t even recognize it as the same house.

“OH. My. God,” I whisper-shout.

Dad’s strong hands land on my shoulders and I spin, shaking, to face him.

“What’s happening?” I ask. It’s a stupid question, I know. It’s glaringly obvious that Daryl’s house is on fire. But somehow asking it, hoping for a different answer, might mean I’m just in a dream. One big, fat, terrible dream.

“Your mother is downstairs finding out. I just needed to check on you.”

“But Daryl!” I cry, my voice shaky and panicked as I point back to the window. How could this happen? I was only over there a few hours ago. “Carrie! Adelaide! Sammy! Mr. and Mrs. Wilder!” I push past him and make for the bedroom door.

Dad bounds after me and I take the stairs two at a time. Mom’s holding my little sister, Abigail, in her arms. She’s the same age as Adelaide. Her little cheeks flush pink with wide eyes as she stares at me over Mom’s shoulder.

“Denver!” Mom pulls me into her with her free arm.

“I need to see!” I say, struggling free. “Please, Mom.”

“Dad is going outside. Stay with me and Abi, please.”

I watch Dad stride past me, he’s all authority and care, even clad in his striped pajama bottoms and Chicago Bulls t-shirt that he sleeps in.

“I’ll just look from the front,” I tell Mom, following Dad out to our gabled porch for a better look.

I hear her call out after me, but I pretend not to hear.

Nothing could have prepared me for what I see once I’m out there, so maybe Mom was right.

The commotion is growing, a crowd is gathering, and people are running around the side of the house.

I keep walking slightly behind Dad toward the curbside, the blazing inferno forcing me to look at it.

It’s angry and mean, the neon flames and deep red overtones remind me of that ethereal sunset out from Daryl’s window earlier.

It was calm then, pretty even. There isn’t anything pretty about this.

I remember Carrie pulling the curtains back to position her telescope and little Adelaide wanted the first look.

How can that have been only hours ago? There was nothing angry or mean about how I spent this afternoon, eating cookies, playing video games and listening to Carrie point out all the constellations.

As I glance either side of me, I can see the entire street is lined with concerned neighbors doing the exact same thing at the curb.

My feet are rooted to the spot, my dad is talking to the neighbor, though I’m not taking in the words being said.

I stare up at Daryl’s bedroom window and I see…

I see him. I hedge closer, even though the fire trucks are blocking the road and there’s shouting, colossal chaos, and heat like I’ve never felt in my life.

“Daryl!” I yell. But it’s useless, he can’t hear me, nobody can… But I need to get to him.

I need to do something… My feet are moving before I even know it. Suddenly, I’m running toward the burning house instead of away from it like I should be.

My eyes are stuck on the upper floor of the house where Daryl is struggling to open the window… I don’t know how long it’s going to take to get a ladder up there, all I know is I need to get to my best friend.

I weave between the fire trucks and the people, somehow seeming to go unnoticed, and then there’s a gap between the crowd.

My heart booms in my chest, louder than any drum I’ve ever heard in my life.

Daryl is yelling something out the small crack in the window, the same time I hear a booming voice calling mine.

It’s my dad. But I’m so close… I know I can shimmy up the drain pipe and climb onto the porch roof, right below the bedroom windows.

I’ve done it a million times when I’ve sneaked out over to his place before.

When I see him holding Sammy up at the half-open window, I don’t hold back. No hesitation. I bolt.

I don’t know how I make it to the side of the house without being caught, but there’s a lot of yelling. The smoke is getting thicker, it’s billowing out the top of the house like thickening fog. The devil is in those flames, I swear it.

My mind races through the faces of Daryl’s family; his sisters and parents. Are they okay?

He and Sammy are alive at the moment… If only he could get the rest of the window open, he could slide Sammy out and then himself.

I scramble for the drainpipe and push myself up, just as I’m nearly sprung by two of the firefighters who try to grab me.

They’re yelling but I’m not even thinking of myself, or my parents and sister who must be watching on with total disbelief and horror.

I know my dad is going to throttle me if I make it out of this alive…

it isn’t a thought that really occurred to me until now.

I just need to get up there and save my friend.

The surface is rough jousting myself up, it’s slippery and embers from the blaze are flying everywhere like little offshoots.

My pajama bottoms snag on the pipe as I haul myself up onto the porch roof.

I hear a tear as I swing my legs up, but I don’t care.

This is why Abby calls me a spider-monkey; I’ve always had the knack of being quick and clever getting in and out of tricky places.

They love me on the basketball team, volleyball, football—you name it, I can do it, and do it well.

I’m not what you would call a quiet achiever when it comes to sports.

I like to win. I like to be the best at whatever it is I’m doing.

Sammy’s barks turn into a howl and the sound goes right through me as I right myself on the roof, balance with my arms by my sides, and carefully make it over to Daryl’s window.

“Daryl!” I scream when I see them.

He’s crying, his face hot and scared at the half-open window. His eyes widen when he sees me. As I glance behind me, I can see we’re soon about to be joined by the rescue team.

“Take Sammy!” he calls, passing him through to me as the gap is small enough. “I have to find Adi.”

Adi? Oh, shit.

I don’t hesitate. I drop to my knees and grab onto the shaking fluff ball coming through the window.

I hold him to my chest and tell him it’s going to be alright.

I position Sammy between my knees and try to budge the window open with Daryl on the other side, frantic and desperate.

It’s then I see another face at the window…

Adelaide? My heartbeat spikes knowing his baby sister is there with him, his sisters’ rooms are right next door to his.

“Push!” I yell as we both edge the window upwards.

“Take Adelaide!” he yells, coughing and trying to waft the smoke away. I don’t know where the blaze is coming from exactly, but it’s moving fast. “I’ll find another way.”

I shake my head. “No way. Push again!”

We both manage to push the window upwards just as one of the firefighters gets to the top of the ladder at the side and comes toward me.

“Pass her through!” I yell to Daryl, my voice strained and frantic. Poor Adelaide is in tears, her little hands balled into fist and her big green eyes round and frightened.

“Go on, Adi,” Daryl says. “Denver will take you down, hurry!” He lifts her up and pushes her through the gap in the window and I pull her into my arms.

“It’s okay,” I murmur as she clutches onto me. “We’ll get you down, okay?”

She cries into my chest, clinging on, but the worst isn’t over yet. I need to pull Daryl out and find out where the rest of his family is.

“You need to stay very still, do you hear me?” My tone turns serious.

We’re on the porch roof after all, and she’s a toddler who could hurt herself if she doesn’t stay still.

“Don’t move.” I turn back to my best friend at the window, who’s pushing himself up onto the inside ledge. “Take my hand, D!”

He reaches out to me and I pull him half out, his body wedged halfway.

Sammy is still between my knees and Adi clutching onto me, wrapping around like a koala.

A coughing fit takes over Daryl as he breathes the thick, sticky air.

The heat behind him is unbearable. Luckily, Adi seems to be okay, she isn’t coughing at least. I don’t even have time to work out where the heck his parents or Carrie could be. I’m hoping they got out okay.

“Jesus, son,” I hear a deep male voice behind us. “Are you trying to get yourself killed!”

The firefighter drops to his knees and helps me yank Daryl all the way out into his arms. I pull Adi up into my chest as I stand and secure Sammy again, who’s clawing at me for dear life, trembling.

To say the rest is a blur is an understatement.

I know I’m in deep shit with my folks, and we still haven’t made it down yet.

But really, what was I supposed to do? Watch my friend, his baby sister, and his dog die inside their house?

The rescue team could well have gotten to them in time, but my instinct wasn’t to stand safely at the curbside.

It was to run toward the danger and help.

We make it across the roof the way I came, carrying Adi and Sammy over to the side of the house where the blaze hasn’t caught on yet, though it could at any time. I’m sure of it.

There’s a ladder positioned there now and another firefighter just appeared at the top.

I don’t even register how I get to the bottom, but I pass Adelaide down to him as she looks up at me with piercing eyes, scared and full of worry. I know the firefighter helps me somehow, but I’m too busy holding onto Sammy, now in my shirt, to take it in.

At the same time a sense of relief, with equal parts dread, washes over me as I think about the rest of the Wilder family…

I can hear Daryl’s voice, crying and scared, calling for his parents.

Did they make it out yet? When my feet hit the hard ground with an almost welcome thud at the bottom of the ladder, I run for the edge of the lawn.

It feels like the most welcoming place I’ve ever seen right now.

I’m following the firefighter who’s holding Adi.

She’s staring at me over his shoulder like I’m a lifeline, I guess because I’m someone familiar and it’s what she needs right now.

My legs move faster than I can carry them, so fast that I stumble and feel myself falling.

I quickly roll onto my side so I don’t crush Sammy in my arms. My face is down in the dirt but I push myself upright and look straight into my father’s eyes.

He’s on the ground with me, sobbing, scared, angry, exasperated, all rolled into one.

I don’t think he even has the strength to tell me off. He just cries.

My mother is behind him, crying and terrified.

Abby is still secured in her arms, looking as bewildered as poor Adelaide.

“I had to get to them,” I croak as I look behind to see Daryl being carried to safety.

But where are the rest of them? Oh, God please let them be alright.

It’s then I see Mr and Mrs Wilder coming out the front, Carrie is being carried by a firefighter and Mrs Wilder is crying hysterically.

“That’s all I know, Dad. I’m sorry, I just had to get to them. ”

Dad blows out a breath and scruffs me over the head, just as Sammy pokes his head out of my shirt and gives me a lick on the face.

Maybe it’s his way of saying thanks, I don’t know, but somehow that makes me smile amongst this chaos.

Looking up at Daryl’s burning house, now a full inferno, there’s very little else to smile about.