10. Josh
10
JOSH
“Kid says they should be in the bathroom on the second floor.” Cap’s voice crackles through my headset, barely audible over the deafening roar of the flames. The urgency in his tone is unmistakable, and it sends a fresh wave of adrenaline surging through me.
My thoughts immediately jump to Nia, and the reckless courage it must have taken for her to even attempt to reach those trapped inside. She would have had to be crazy, or worse… desperate, to try and navigate this hellscape on her own.
The flames are no joke. They’re a living, breathing monster, and I know from experience just how unforgiving they can be.
“Clear the first floor first,” Cap orders, his voice steady but edged with the same concern I feel tightening in my chest.
Black smoke billows around us, thick and suffocating, reducing visibility to almost nothing. Every breath through my mask is a battle against the acrid air, and even through the safety of our fireproof gear, I can feel the searing heat from the flames licking at my skin, trying to eat me from the inside out. It’s like standing too close to an open furnace, the kind that doesn’t just burn, it consumes everything in its path. For a split second, I imagine what it would be like without the protection of my gear, how the flames would scorch my flesh, reducing everything to ash in mere moments. It’s a thought I push away quickly because there’s no time to dwell on what-ifs. Nia and the others trapped inside don’t have time for hesitation, and neither do I.
Old houses go up fast. They burn hot, ready to go up with barely any accelerant. The dry wood, ancient wiring, and layers of insulation feed the fire like kindling, turning a small spark into an inferno in minutes. I’ve seen it too many times before. These old structures burn too fast, and when the fire’s had its fill, there’s often nothing left but smoldering ruins. It’s a race against the clock, and every second we spend inside is another that Nia, the mother, and her child might not have.
My heart is racing as I prepare to do what I’ve been trained for.
The first floor of the house is like a maze, a chaotic jumble of furniture and bookcases that line the walls and create false rooms where there should be open space. It’s as if the house itself is conspiring to keep us from reaching the people trapped inside. Every corner we turn reveals more shit. Overturned chairs, toppled shelves, debris that has no business being in a place like this.
The smoke is so thick it’s like we’re wading through ink, the flames casting eerie, flickering shadows that make the twisted layout even more disorienting.
“Fuckin’ crazy,” I mutter into my mask, knowing full well that no one can hear me over the roar of the fire. The words are more for my own sanity, a way to channel the frustration and disbelief at the sheer insanity of the situation. We’re moving through a deathtrap, and every step feels like it could be our last if we’re not careful. But we don’t have the luxury of caution. We have to find them, and we have to find them now.
Hold on, Nia.
Slowly, surely, we clear the bottom floor completely. Five rooms, including the kitchen, and it is beyond excruciating. Every second we waste is another that Nia and the two others aren’t safe.
“Fire department!” I bellow, my voice straining to cut through the noise of the fire. “Call out if you’re here!” The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the crackling of flames and the creaking of the old house as it groans under the pressure. My heart sinks a little more with each unanswered call. We keep moving, hoping, praying that someone will respond, that we’re not just chasing ghosts through this burning shithole.
I hear the other men calling out the same thing, hoping to get an answer through the smoke and flames. Finding the stairs, I make my way up carefully, keeping one hand on the wall the entire time.
“Fire department,” I shout again as I begin to ascend the stairs, each footfall reverberating through the fragile structure. The flames are closer now, the heat more intense, and I can feel the sweat pouring down my back, mingling with the tension that’s coiled tight in my chest. I’m half expecting the stairs to give way beneath me, but I push the thought aside.
There’s no room for fear right now.
Only focus.
Ryder and Gino are right behind me, the perfect complement to my skills. Like we’ve done a hundred times before, the three of us move as one, checking the stairs and marching with purpose through the flames. We split up when we make it upstairs, clearing the rooms on either side of the hall. But there is only one closed door on the entire floor. At the end of the hall on the right. That has to be where Nia is.
The fire has spread to the walls, licking its way through the wood and insulation, devouring everything in its path. I can hear the unmistakable sound of water streaming into the open windows and onto the roof, trying to buy us as much time as possible. Time we will need to get the survivors out of the building.
“I got the door.” Ryder shoves it open, and I step into the tiny room, unsure of what I’ll find.
But there she is—Nia, crouched on the floor with a soaking wet towel in her hand, holding it gently to the face of a tiny, terrified girl. The sight of them nearly brings me to my knees, a mix of relief and horror crashing over me like a tidal wave. Nia’s face is streaked with ash, her hair matted with soot and sweat, but she’s focused, determined, her every movement calculated to protect the child in her care. The little girl can’t be more than three, her wide eyes filled with fear and confusion as she clings to Nia like a lifeline. In that moment, I’m shown exactly how strong Nia is. She’s stronger than any other woman I’ve ever met.
Beside them on the ground is an unconscious woman no older than thirty. Her dark-brown hair is wrapped in a ponytail on top of her head, and her skin is a mixture of ash and streaks of water where it looks like she’s been crying or something.
Doing a quick assessment through my mask and the haze, the fire roaring all around us, I know we are running out of time.
“Closed the door,” Nia gasps from behind a towel she is holding up to her face. “Ran water.”
I move quickly, reaching for the unconscious woman on the floor. She’s lighter than I expected, her body limp in my arms as I lift her off the ground. There’s a moment of panic as I realize how fragile she feels, how close she is to slipping away. But I push the thought aside, focusing on getting her to safety.
I hand her off to Ryder, who’s already at the door, ready to take her.
Without a word, he starts the trek back down the hallway, moving with the same urgency that’s thrumming through my veins. We don’t have time to lose. We’re in the final moments of this rescue, and every second counts.
I turn my attention to the little girl next, her small, fragile form trembling in the face of the overwhelming chaos around us. She clings to Nia with a desperation that tears at my heart, but I know we have to move. I gently pry her away, murmuring reassurances as I lift her into my arms. “I got you, sweetie,” I whisper, my voice as calm as I can make it. “We’re gonna get you all out of here now.” The wet towel is still clutched in her tiny hands, and I pull it up closer to her face, hoping it will help shield her from the worst of the smoke. Her wide eyes stare up at me, filled with a trust that I can’t let down.
When I look over my shoulder, I see Nia dropping the towel from her face so that she can reach around Gino for something.
Her platinum hair is covered with ash and dirt, making her practically unrecognizable. Gino reaches for her, trying to pull her body to his so that he can shelter her and we can get out of the house.
“I’m fine,” Nia says, her voice strained but resolute as she waves off Gino’s attempts to protect her. There’s no room for weakness in her tone, no hesitation. She’s made of steel, even now, in the face of this nightmare. Ignoring the concern in Gino’s eyes, she reaches for the last of the towels from the bathtub, soaking it thoroughly before pressing it to her face. The action is methodical, almost mechanical, as she fights to keep the smoke from overwhelming her lungs. Then, with a determined glare, she wraps the towel around her head, creating a makeshift shield. “Let’s go,” she says, her voice carrying an authority that leaves no room for argument.
Shaking my head, I take the girl and leave without wasting another second. Nia is at my back, Gino right behind her. Through the hall, we sidestep the flames, and I pull the mask from my face, covering the little girl for a second before we get to the top of the stairs. Then I put it back in place using one hand after I make sure she is breathing into the towel.
“Three souls retrieved, headed out now,” Gino barks into the mic.
As we make our way down the stairs, my eyes lock on to the open front door at the far end of the house. It’s like a beacon, a sliver of hope in the midst of this hell. Another thirty steps. Just thirty more steps and we’ll be out of danger, out of the flames that are nipping at our heels.
The air is thick with smoke, the heat oppressive, but that door represents freedom, safety, and the chance to save these lives. It’s so close I can almost taste the fresh air waiting on the other side.
My vision narrows, the world around me shrinking until all I can see is that open door, the promise of safety just beyond it. One small tunnel that I can almost reach.
But then, in a split second, everything changes.
There’s a loud crack followed by a yell. Someone’s voice I can’t quite make out. Then suddenly, the world collapses around us.
The walls, weakened by the relentless fire, give way with a thunderous crash, sending debris raining down. I’m shoved forward by the force of it, barely managing to keep my footing as I hit the ground. Instinct takes over, and I curl around the girl in my arms, shielding her with my body as we roll across the floor. The impact rattles my bones, but I hold tight, determined to protect her no matter what.
“ Move, ” Nia screams at the top of her lungs at the exact same moment that a goddamned toilet falls through the ceiling and lands on top of her through the rubble.
Drywall and wood, along with the shattered porcelain from the toilet, clamors and groans all around us, blocking the path we’ve just come from.
The little girl in my arms lets out a soft whimper, her tiny body trembling against mine. Her eyes, wide and filled with fear, lock on mine, and in that moment, I feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. She doesn’t say anything. She’s probably too scared to even speak but her gaze is enough to break my heart. She’s relying on me, trusting me to get her out of here, and I can’t let her down. I tighten my grip on her, holding her close as I scan the room for a way out, my mind racing with a thousand thoughts at once.
Scrambling to my feet, I sprint to the door and hand her to the man waiting.
“Second story collapsed on us. Nia and Gino are under a toilet.”
Ryder takes the girl and hands her to Gem a few feet away. Then he is on me, putting his mask back into place. But I don’t wait. I can’t wait.
Gino’s PASS device starts blaring loudly.
“He’s not moving.” My words, not meant to be shouted, come out like a roar. Every single firefighter wears a PASS device. I know what they sound like from training, but hearing one of my brothers in distress destroys a piece of me that I’m not sure I’m prepared to lose.
Panicking in a way I didn’t know was possible, I grab and shove and do my best to move the drywall off them. The porcelain of the toilet topples on its side and crashes into the living room, and I don’t stop to look. Over and over again, I lift beams and pieces of drywall until my muscles scream in agony and my breath fogs the mask I’m wearing. I barely register the men working at my side while someone lays a line of water all around us.
Like rain, the hoses pour water down on our heads through the windows and the hole in the roof above us. A blessing, it works to keep the fire from touching not only us but Nia and Gino as well, giving us the time to save them from the destruction that crashes through the house.
We have no idea what we will find, but that doesn’t stop the search. I ignore the shouts of the other men, and when I see the familiar bright-yellow flash with Ramirez emblazoned across the back, I smile despite myself.
"I got Gino!" I yank at one particularly large piece of wood and look up to see Ryder and Captain Harvey at my side, lifting it with me.
We have the wood, and another of the men reaches for Gino, dragging him out.
Under his body is Nia.
Her eyes are closed, and she has blood dripping down her face. Her body, the same one that I spent a night worshipping with my own, doesn’t move. Her chest doesn’t rise or fall. The arms that had wrapped around my neck are flailed out, covering her chest like she could have stopped the chaos from happening. Her legs, the ones she used to hold me to her, are cocked at an unnatural angle. In the second it takes to figure out that Nia isn't conscious, I freeze.
I step forward before Ryder or Cap can, and I lift her into my arms like she weighs nothing. In that moment, she could have weighed three hundred pounds, and it wouldn’t have mattered. Then, like I’ve done it a million times before, I carry her over the rubble and out of the house into the sunlight. A gurney catches my eye, and I lay her down as gently as I can, willing her to breathe with every fiber of my being.
Tearing the mask from my face, I hang my head for a second while I wait for any sign that she is going to be okay.
"Get some oxygen on her," Cap barks at the second EMT that arrived on scene at some point. "She's unconscious and not breathing. Was under the collapse."
I watch Gem load Gino into the ambulance and my heart lurches. He isn't moving, either. The doors slam, and then the ambulance is roaring to life with sirens blaring.
My attention shifts when Nia is hooked up to the EKG from the waiting ambulance, and the EMT at her side starts compressions while his partner connects leads to her chest. There isn't a heartbeat.
"Load her," the EMT orders.
"Fire's out," Chief Hayes announces loudly.
My eyes aren't on him. They are on Nia's unmoving body. Her body heaves with every press of the EMT's hands on her chest. I don't need to hear it to know that she is going to have some cracked ribs, if not worse. I watch them load her into the ambulance, still not breathing, and when the sirens chirp to life, it snaps me out of the haze I didn't know I'd been in while I watched them work on her.
Our team, with grim faces and hurried movements, do what we have to. The pumps shut off one by one, and the hoses are rolled back up to be put on the trucks. When I hear the eerie silence after everything is done, drowned out by the sound of sirens in the distance, I turn to survey the damage. The house is a total loss, and I can see the collapsed roof from where I stand.
“Let’s load up.” Cap's voice echoes through the mic on my chest. “We’re heading to the hospital.”
In the truck, no one speaks. No one so much as breathes too loudly. Instead, we pray.
Reaching into my shirt, I clutch the medallion my mother gave me the day I graduated from the fire academy at eighteen years old, and I beg Saint Florian for Gino’s life and that of the woman we tried to save. But most of my thoughts are reserved for Nia.
Two minutes and three seconds later, the rig screeches to a halt in the emergency lanes of the hospital, and we pour out. Cap moves the rig to the side, clearing the way in case the lane is needed, but I don’t wait.
Instead, I march through the sliding glass doors and to the desk.
“One of our brothers and a paramedic were brought here, with two victims from the fire.” My question goes unasked.
“All four were brought in. If you’ll have a seat, as soon as I know anything about your people, I’ll let you know.”
Cap steps up next to me, taking control of the situation. “You’ll get me an update. Now.” He snarls when the nurse doesn’t move quickly enough for him. “There are two of my people in there. Take us to the internal waiting area. We’re not staying here.”
He leads the way, pulling his phone from his pocket as he goes.
“Well?”
The nurse moves into action, and thirty seconds later we are at the end of another hall, watching as a doctor speaks quietly with Cap.
They both have grim expressions on their faces. But my eyes go past them and land on a crying Gem.
Gem practically sprints in my direction when she sees me standing there with Ryder at my side and the rest of my brothers at my back.
“I don’t know what she was thinking,” she gasps out, breathless from either the run or crying. “That little boy said his sister was in there with his mom, and she just ran in.”
“I’m gonna beat her ass,” Ryder growls. “And then I’m gonna call her brothers and sister and let them do it all over again.”
“Get in line,” I whisper darkly. “But first, let’s make sure she’s going to live.”