Love opened his eyes and stretched. He looked over at the clock and saw he had only been sleeping for an hour and a half. He shrugged and rolled over. He sat on the edge of the small twin bed and rubbed his eyes. He yawned and stood up, leaving the sleeping quarters.
"Been sleepin', Gordon?" The chief asked as he passed him in the hallway.
"Just dozing...Have the guys eaten yet?" Love asked.
"Nope, you know it's your turn to cook." The chief laughed and walked into his office, closing the door behind him. Love stumbled down the stairs slowly, finding himself in the kitchen.
"Hey, Gordon." The series of deep voices greeted him.
"Hey, I'll start making dinner." Love said, walking over to the stove and turning on the burner.
"We voted, we want steak."
"Well, you get chicken. You have a problem with it, get your ass up here and make your god damn steak." Love smiled at his fellow firefighters and winked. They rolled their eyes and grumbled, going back to their cards or newspapers. Heavy footsteps were heard on the floors of the kitchen.
"Hey, Adams." The same deep voices greeted the man walking into the room.
"Hey, what's for dinner." Adams leaned over Love's shoulder. "Aw man, I thought we were having steak." Adams frowned and sat down at the table, peeking at the others cards before he sat.
"Shut up, bitches." Love shook his head.
"Pay attention, assholes." The chief walked in. A few looked up, most kept doing what they were doing before.
"What's up, Chief?" one of the guys said, a cigarrette hanging from his mouth. The chief pulled away the smoke and crushed it out on the table, throwing it into the trash.
"We have a new guy joining the crew, after losing Reed...We needed another guy around." The chief said, trailing off when mentioning their fallen brother. The room was quiet as they all thought about their friend.
"When is he joining." Adams asked, in his thick southern drawl.
"Now. Guys, this is Garrett." A tall man stepped into the kitchen, a smile across his face. Love looked him up and down and went back to his food without saying anything. He didn't have anything against the guy personally, but no one could replace Reed.
"Hey." Garrett held up a hand. The guys looked at him before going back to what they were doing. The chief sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Don't be dickheads." He said simply, before walking back to his office. The room was awkwardly quiet as Love set down the plates of food. It was a simple meal, chicken, rice, and peas. He set down the plates in front of each crew member and then stared up at Garrett.
"Have a seat, I'll make another plate." Love said.
"Thanks..."
"Gordon." Love said, introducing himself by his last name. The other men dug into their meals, still complaining about the chicken. Love set down the last plate in front of Garrett.
"So, Gordon. When are you gonna learn how to cook food that doesn't taste like shit?" Adams teased, poking him with his fork.
"When you learn how to cook at all. So basically, when pigs shitting snowballs in hell start flying." Love threw a pea at him. Suddenly, the alarm went off and immediatly all the men stepped into action. As they tried to crowd out the room, a few jumped over the table and rushed to the room where the truck was. They pulled on their gear quickly and climbed into the car. Adams got behind the wheel and the rest of the men piled in. Love sat on the end and during the drive, took the chance to look at himself and the crew. He stared at his reflection in the window silently.
He supposed he was good looking. His hair was black and straight, hanging down just above his eyes and barely above his neck. His eyes were green and his nose small. He was the smallest on the crew, weighing only 180 pounds. He stood at only 5' 5" while most of the others were 5' 10" or more. He was small, but he was the fastest on the crew. And, as a bonus, his size allowed him in the small places they often found themselves in. He turned to the rest of the crew in the car. He had been on the crew for over six years now.
The main crew consisted of himself, Adams, the Chief, Ross, Thomas, and now Garrett. Of course there were a lot more people. But the ones he usually had contact with were just those five. Adams and the chief had been on long before he had. They were both older, being on the crew for more than fifteen years now. Adams still looked young, his blonde hair was cut short in a buzz and his features were sharp and hard, unlike his personality. He was always the first to make the jokes.
Love looked at Ross, the permanantly stoic one. He hardly ever spoke, and was always the first one in and the last one out of a fire. His father had been a firefighter, and though he joined the crew only a month or two before Love did, he was more dedicated than any of them. He even shaved his head to stay safer in the fires. His eyes were so dark they were almost black.
Thomas had joined at the same time Love had. He was shy and quiet. He was so timid that a lot of the time it was a burden on the crew. But he worked the best with the children and women. His equipment skills had much to be desired, but his people skills were the best on the team. His red hair was usually kept under his helmet, few of the crew had actually ever seen it. But it was cut short, falling in small curls around his head. His brown eyes had a way of sucking people in, making them trust him with their lives.
Love looked at Garrett. It sucked being thrown into a call with a new crew member. They didn't even know if they could trust him. Adams pulled the truck up next to the building. Love pulled his helmet on and made sure it was on tight. They stared up at the burning building, smoke poured from the windows and screams could be heard.
"Gordon, Thomas, Garrett. Inside. Ross, Adams, on the hoses." The chief walked around. Love, Garrett, and Thomas turned on their radios.
"Please!" A crying woman ran up to Garrett, holding his jacket in her fists. "Please, save my daughter!" She begged, in tears.
"We're going to do our best, Ma'am." Thomas said. One of the paramedics led the hysterical woman away.
"Garrett," The chief said. The new member turned around. The chief handed their largest member an axe. "Get your asses in there." He shouted, over the roaring fire.
Love was the first one in. His oxygen mask was on firmly and he got used to breathing through it quickly. Garrett was close behind him, and Thomas trailed behind.
"Get up there fast, boys." The chief said, through the radio. "She's on the third." The chief said.
"You guys hear that?" Love asked. The other two men said they did. They reached the third and Love hesitated. "What room?" Love asked. The apartment building was large and there had to be at least twenty rooms on this floor alone.
"Fuck if I know." The chief said.
"Shit." Garrett muttered behind Love. They heard feint crying, but it was impossible to tell where it was coming from.
"Little girl?" Thomas called out through his mask, which muffled the call. The crying got louder. Garret turned towards the nearest door.
"Get away from the door!" He shouted, before swinging the axe hard at the wood. It crumbled beneath the metal, already soft from the fire that had been weakening it. The men piled into the room, searching the apartment quickly.
"Next one!" Love sighed, there was no way they were going to find her in time. He could already feel the floor bending with their weight. Suddenly, his foot fell through the floor. He shouted in surprise and Garrett and Thomas tried to help him up quickly.
"Spread out, the floor is to weak. We have to split up. Check the right rooms." He said to Garrett. "Check the left, I'll go through there." He said to Thomas, pointing out his direction under a fallen piece of ceiling. He ducked under a huge piece of wood and continued to the other half of the hallway. The crying was definitly louder here.
"She's somewhere over here. Can you guys get through?" Love asked.
"No, it's to small. We'll just make it fall all the way." Garrett answered.
"Throw me the axe. Get your asses out of here." Love said, the radio crackling. The axe slid across the wooden floors, through the gap under the piece of wood. Love took it, and checked each door, listening for the crying and feeling for the heat that indicated a fire behind it. Finally, at the end of the hall was a cooler door with the crying behind it.
