Fire was everywhere. Flames twisted and curled igniting everything they touched as the world turned into a fiery hell. The old tenement building was well alight and glowed like a furnace against the blackness of the midnight sky.
Below, surrounding it like flittering fireflies, the rescue and containment continued apace as small groups of Fire-fighters entered the ten-story building searching for survivors.
One group, a pair, had reached the top floor.
Fire-fighter 47 crouched low as he forced open the door of the last apartment they had managed to reach. The air was thick with black acrid smoke as he looked over his shoulder at his companion who was kneeling in the stairwell watching him. He reached up and tapped the side of his oxygen mask shaking his head. His comms were intermittent and even if he could hear them they were mostly drowned out by the roar of the fire.
His companion, Fire-fighter 38, nodded and held up two fingers.
Two unaccounted for. Two missing people. Two little girls.
They had already rescued their unconscious mother and another older girl who had told the others about her missing sisters as they were passed down the line.
There was a sudden loud crack and 47 turned back to see the floorboards behind him beginning to smoke as the heat from below made them expand and buckle. Time was of the essence and time was running out. The fire had spread to the outside of the building and had snaked its way up the cladding to every floor. The ceiling above him flared brightly and as it burned he could see the crisscrossing joists turning black as they began to smolder.
Inside his mask, he was breathing hard as he tried to open the last bedroom door. But the wood had expanded and it was stuck. Grunting, he twisted around so he could use his feet to kick it open.
It was a children's bedroom. On top of cupboards and along several shelves were toys of every description all sat together unaware of the danger they were in. There were two single beds but both were empty as he crawled into the room with the light from his helmet lamp searching the smokey gloom.
Checking under each bed, 47 frowned as he looked around the room. Where were they? Had they somehow gotten out and made their own way down the fire escape? No, that was impossible. Every exit was covered and had been cleared. They had to be here somewhere.
There was a sudden hiss and he looked up through his breather to see flames flickering above him as they reached the ceiling. Fiery spittle dropped onto the far bed setting alight the duvet and sheets. Alright. Enough was enough. It was time to think of their own safety and get the hell out of Dodge.
The heat was intense as he started to turn back when something caught his eye. He looked at it for a second before realizing it was a doll. A rag doll with bright orange hair that was lying slumped next to a large inbuilt cupboard at the far side of the bedroom. As he stared, one of the doors suddenly opened slightly and a small hand reached out to grab the toy before disappearing back inside.
"Oh shit," he muttered as his heart leaped in his chest. There was a sudden burst of static in his ears. "Back out!" said a panicked voice. "We need to get the hell out right now!!" He looked over his shoulder and saw his partner gesticulating wildly at him. "Let's go!"
Ignoring the command from his superior, he turned back and began to crawl across the room to where the ragdoll had been. Reaching the cupboard, he grabbed the bottom of the door and yanked it open to find a girl of about eight wedged into the corner holding the doll to her chest. She was wide-eyed with fright, covered in dirt, and he could see her struggling to breathe as she gasped for air.
Instinctively, he tossed his yellow "47" helmet to one side, ripped off his breather, and placed it over the girls face. Immediately, she took great gulps of oxygen and began to move towards him. He was about to reach for her when she shook her head and pointed to the other side of the cupboard. It was then he noticed a pair of bare feet sticking out from under a pile of clothes.
The other girl. Her sister.
He reached for the first girl who wrapped her arms and legs around him then leaned in for the other by grabbing her by the right ankle to drag her out from where she was hiding. She was barely conscious and as he knelt there he switched his mask from one to the other and watched as the younger child began to stir in his arms.
Suddenly the room was lit by a bright white light and the Fire-fighter turned to see a blinding spotlight shining through the bedroom window. Above the sound of the fire, he could just make out the "whup, whup, whup" of a helicopter's rotors. He raised a hand to shield his eyes and automatically thought it was Police or Rescue. And they had seen them.
Taking deep lungfuls of air before handing his mask back to the older girl for her and her sister to use, he held them to him as he began to edge back towards the door. There was a sudden loud cracking sound and he looked up as the ceiling gave way and burning debris began to fall on and all around them.
Crouching over both girls, he realized his suit was beginning to smolder and burn. The only thing that mattered now was to get them out. Whatever it took, whatever sacrifice he had to make, he had to do it. Still in the circle of white light, he slowly inched back and could feel the heat from below cracking the wooden beams as the inferno continued to consume everything in its path.
His lungs were on fire and he glanced down at the pair of girls wrapped around him. The youngest had on the mask and gave him a thumbs up which made him laugh despite himself.
Once they reached the doorway, he could see his partner through the smoke and heat laying flat out on the top step of the stairwell urging him on with another Fire-fighter hunkered down against the wall behind him. He handed over each girl to his backup who quickly turned and passed them back down the line to be taken out of the burning building.
It was then everything changed.
There was a sudden explosion from below as the window shattered and the backdraft blew him across the room where he hit the wall hard. The last thing Fire-fighter 47 remembered as the pain rolled over him in electric waves was the memory of a girl in a red woolen hat looking up at him as she knelt in the snow.
***
Far below, the pale blue dot slowly turned as the silver 747 banked gracefully and headed out across the Atlantic towards home.
The boy sat staring out of the window in a world of his own with his thoughts firmly rooted in the recent past. All he could think about was the one thing he was leaving far behind as their trip came to an end.
"You look sad," said a voice to his right. "Everything comes to an end, hon. Maybe we'll go back again one day."
Fifteen-year-old Joss Vandenburg turned to see his mother watching him. She tilted her head and he could see the question in her eyes. The trip had been a grand tour with his family visiting various relatives who were scattered across Europe. Their last port of call had been just outside London and they had spent three days with a distant cousin in the old country. And now it was over. He didn't reply but smiled and nodded.