13. Ian
13
IAN
I don't make a habit of going to places where I've been made aware that I'm not wanted, but when it comes to my work, I'm deaf to instructions.
It's been two weeks since I left Glazer Ville. Fifteen days since I last saw Sarah.
Have I been thinking about her?
Every goddamn minute of the day.
I don't have anything to do, and I'm low on cash, so of course, who else would I be thinking of to keep myself sane?
Ironically, thoughts of her drive me madder than focusing on my current situation does, but still, you'll find me thinking about her more than dwelling on my problems.
Eventually, I drag my ass away from home one evening and go in search of Richard with the intention of groveling if it means he'll take me back.
The station is just closing for the day when I get here. I request to see Richard, and he comes out to see me within five minutes of my arrival.
“What are you doing here?” he asks. Immediately, he sees I'm the one who asked for him.
“Hey man, it's good to see you,” I say a little too excitedly. The enthusiasm is fake, and he sees right through me.
“Cut the bullshit, Ian. You're not supposed to be here,” he says sternly.
Sighing, I drop the act. “Yeah, I know.”
“So why are you here?” he asks.
I shrug. It's pretty obvious.
“Talk,” he demands, his demeanor already closed off even before I start.
“I was hoping we could talk.”
“About?”
He knows why I'm here, but the fact that he's giving me an audience right now makes me respect him more. He's a good friend. A good person, too.
“I don't know. Work? I'm losing my mind Rich. I need to work.”
He softens a little at my words, a frown touching his face. “I do understand that, but you know my hands are tied here.”
I nod, scratch my beard, and plaster on a terrible face.
I feel terrible doing this, but I have to do what I have to do.
“And there's nothing you can do to help me? I'm better now, I promise.”
“You don't get better with words, Ian. I need proof that you've been talking to a specialist and you're not going to put your life in danger in the future.”
“I'm not, I swear!”
He sighs and looks at me sympathetically. “I've heard this many times, Ian. Words just aren't enough anymore. I need proof. Go see a therapist, even if it's just once, and give me something to work with. Come on, man.”
My mouth starts to form yet another protest, but it dies in my throat when the rescue alert bell rings through the station.
“Let me come with you,” I say immediately as he starts to walk away.
“You can't, Ian, sorry. Go home.”
He's out of sight before I can put forth a better argument, and the door closes behind him.
As I watch them all run around the station, assembling the truck for the task ahead, I trek back to my own truck, ready to follow them to the location.
Richard will be pissed, but maybe he doesn't have to know.
Maybe I can just hang around and not join in on the action if I see my help is not needed. It would kill me, but I'll do it, and maybe tell Richard later. See if that will help me get his trust.
Soon, they're all mounted in the truck and leaving the station. I follow behind them at a far distance, careful not to let them out of sight.
The drive is by far one of the longest of my life, but when we eventually get to the location, I realize I can't stick to my earlier plan.
The day was almost over when the alarm sounded, and I'm sure most of the guys have left for the day. I only saw Shine, Thomas, and David climb in with Richard, and with the fire I'm seeing, there's no way they can take it on alone.
Maybe if I wasn't here it'd be better, but I am, and I can't just stand by and watch my team literally step in the fire with the odds against them.
I step out of my car and walk up to meet Richard where he's already barking out orders to the guys.
“Shine, you got the water hose for now, but let's focus more on the upper side of the house, okay? Thomas and David, you guys take on the rescuing. Current information we have is that there are fifteen people inside. Now, we all know this isn't always accurate. There may be more or less. Let's hope less. I'll scout around for more information and eventually join Shine. We're going to need a miracle to pull this through tonight with our numbers, but I believe if we give this our best, we may save most of these people tonight. Maybe all of them. Who's with me?”
The guys all yell in approval, and then they disperse to do their duty.
I remain lurking around the truck now, my instincts all over the place as the fire burns.
“Put me in,” I say eventually, giving my presence up.
Richard's head snaps in my direction, and frustration flickers over his features the moment he sees me.
“What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to go home.”
“You need me. Just accept the help, and we'll fix this later.”
He's reluctant at first but he only has to glance at the fire once again before he gives in.
“Fine, but if you're doing this you're following instructions, or I swear to God, that's your ass.”
“I wouldn't have it any other way,” I concede, eager to please him.
He nods and then starts to give me instructions while he gets me the rescue gear.
“You're with the rescue team. Focus on the first few floors. We need to be smart about this. Shine is stopping the fire from the top, so if there are people up there, it'll give them an edge. Go, go, go.” He finishes speaking, clapping his palms.
A shot of adrenaline goes through my body, and I exhale eagerly at the prospect of working again.
Damn, it's been a while.
I get my gear on as fast as I can, fasten my overalls around my body, and then dash straight into the building.
The guys and I work together, passing necessary information to allow smooth sailing.
Soon, the lower floors are empty of people, so we move up. The fire at the top is still raging hard, though. You'd think the men outside hadn't been doing their best to put it out.
Richard commands that we go one more last round and then stop going inside, so we all disperse back into the building wanting to make the best of the last few minutes we have to save more lives.
On my way to the top, I find a boy trapped behind a door in a room. He seems to be trying to get after something, but I pick him up, wondering where the hell his parents are.
Things like this piss me off the most in my line of work. You'll see children caught up in avoidable dangers if only the parents were more careful.
“Ziah,” he whispers into my shoulder, his body thrashing.
Is there someone else here?
“Shhh,” I say to him and holler through the floor, wanting to confirm if there's still anyone trapped in there.
I get no response.
I repeat the process again. Nothing.
One last time, and still no response. A sigh of relief leaves me at the realization that no one may be dying tonight. I start to rush down the hallway, my goal intent to save the boy.
I'm about to round the corner when the barking of a dog fills the air.
“Ziah boy!” The boy in my arms starts to jerk, wanting to be let down so he can go save his dog.
I glance back at the dog. He's stuck behind the same door I just got the boy out of. How come I didn't see him?
Despite the scream of the boy, I continue down the hall and take the steps down. I can't save them both.
When I get back outside, the street is bustling with activity. Paramedics are everywhere, trying to get people who are injured help while neighbors are now outside, trying to help however they can.
I take the boy with me to one of the ambulances so he can get checked.
“Ziah boy,” he starts to say frantically the moment I put him down.
I pretend not to hear him as Richard draws in near us.
“Ziah boy. Ziah boy is inside the house, please save him,” the boy is wailing now, practically clawing at the medic’s arms.
My heart starts to beat fast at the sight before me.
Shit.
I can't go back in there. It's burning hell.
“I don't know,” I say hesitantly.
“Please, please, please, save Ziah, please.”
I glance back at the building, trying to gauge if I can still go back and make it out alive. The chance is fifty-fifty.
“Don't do it, Ian,” Richard barks, but I am already moving. “Ian! Get back here.”
I enter the building, the heat of the fire hotter than ever. I focus all my energy on getting the dog, ignoring the sweat pouring down my body from the heat. I get to the dog. He's a wild one, but I manage to grab him and make it out of the fire with him successfully.
It’s not until I am back outside with the danger now behind me that I realize what I had just done.
Fuck.
Richard is still back by the truck when I get there. The rest of the guys have joined Shine in putting out the fire, and they're succeeding.
“Richard.”
“Go home, Ian. And don't let me see you around the station until I say so this time. If I do, say goodbye to your job permanently.”
Although I can understand why he's angry with me, I still can't find it in me to feel bad.
I just save lives. Isn't that what matters most?
Sure, I disobeyed him, but the ends justify the means, don’t they?
Shaking my head at him, I walk away to the back of the truck and pull off my getup.
I know he'll come around, eventually.
There's a new feeling of fulfillment flowing through me as I walk back to my truck and drive home.
When I'm back at my apartment, I immediately get showered before I step back into the living room and put on the TV. For the first time in weeks, I turn on the local news station, wanting to know what is going on in the world.
Lately, I've been keeping myself busy with a TV series to keep me from losing my mind.
When the TV comes on, I'm surprised by the name I'm seeing on the screen. It's the last one I expected to be honest.
Popular novelist and bestselling author Sarah Brown has once again warmed the hearts of her readers with her recent noble act of donating bone marrow to save her estranged father.
What the fuck?