The chronological order of my stories is now listed in WifeWatchman's biography.
Feedback and
constructive
criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.
This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.
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Part 25 - Fire and Heroism
Three apartment buildings were engulfed in flames. Firefighters were scrambling to put out the blazes, but they were fighting a losing battle; the fires were already fiercely out of control.
It was 10:45pm Saturday night, November 14th. And the middle building of the ones on fire contained the apartment that had once been rented by Jack Burke, where he'd made his sex tapes... and where the Intendent had hidden her evidence that implicated the Consultant of Crime.
I was standing with the Fire Chief, Patrick Quinlin, and a few firefighters that were equipped and prepared to rescue any people in the building. Captain Cindy Ross was next to me. Police had an extended cordon around the area blocked off, keeping everyone out, including most of the Press. KXTC, however, had managed to get a van and crew inside the cordon. I had Police keep them well back, but they were allowed to film the conflagration.
Most of the apartment occupants were accounted for, but the Fire Department had no way of knowing if everyone was out. The fire had grown too large, too fast, to allow knocking on doors and searches. We could only hope the fire alarm bells on each building going off was enough.
And then I saw it...
"Oh my God, there's a child in there!" I yelled. I started sprinting toward the middle building, but the run was only in my mind... I was quickly pulled back by firefighters and Cindy.
"Hold on, Commander!" one of them yelled. "That's our job!"
"There!" I yelled, pointing at a dim black shape. "Right there!"
"Let's go!" yelled a firefighter. I don't know if he saw it or not, but he was trusting what I said. Three other men followed him to the building.
"Okay, Team Two!" yelled Fire Chief Quinlin. "Get ready to go in after them if you need to!" I just watched, seeing the firefighters with their fireproof gear, their oxygen tanks and full face masks, hatchets and other tools ready.
They had radios, and did not notice me surreptitiously turn mine to their frequency so that I could listen in.
"I've got eyes on the kid!" I heard one yell, even as they were engulfed in the conflagration. "I'm going in!
"Roger that! We're right behind you!"
Suddenly we heard what sounded like a huge *CRACK!*... and the building began collapsing!
"Get back! Get back!" yelled the Fire Chief into his mike as he watched the horror... the apartment building was going down, right onto where the firemen and the child were!
I barely heard the screams and shouts of others as I watched the disaster unfolding in front of me. I felt helpless, and I need not say that Cindy was making damn sure I didn't try to run in there myself. I could feel the intensity of the tension as we watched for signs of movement.
"There!" I shouted. I could see three of the four firefighters emerging in front of the building. They were looking around for their remaining teammate.
"Easley! Come in Easley!" I heard on the radio.
"Over here!" I heard another voice on the radio. "They're over here!" The three firefighters ran back into the swirling cauldron of hell on earth. A moment later, they came out... carrying a fireman. His coat was bulging, and I knew before consciously realizing it that he had the child with him.
As they approached, two other firemen ran with a gurney towards them. The firefighter was placed on it, and then I saw what had happened... he had opened his coat to secure the child inside... and put his oxygen mask on the kid's face.
"Oh my God." I gasped. "Who is that?"
"Fireman Roy Easley." said Chief Quinlin. "Bronze Star in Afghanistan. Been with us two years now."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Two hours later, I went to University Hospital. As ever, Cindy Ross was with me. I saw several firefighters in a waiting room. With them was the Fire Chief, the Battalion Chief (equivalent to me in rank), and some of the firefighters on the injured man's crew. They seemed surprised to see us come in.
"How is he?" I asked quietly.
"Not good, Commander." said the Battalion Chief. "Damaged lungs. He inhaled hot gas when he put his mask on the kid's face."
"Ouch." said Cindy Ross, her face wincing. She'd had an injured lung when she was shot, and which still gave her physical problems if she physically overextended herself.
"How's the kid?" I asked.
"The kid is going to be okay, superficial burns. Easley saved him by putting him inside his coat, and giving the kid his oxygen mask. Easley took burns to the body as well as the lungs." said Chief Quinlin. "The doctor says if he makes it through the next 48 hours and doesn't 'dry-land drown', he'll have a good shot to live. As to how much lung capacity he'll have after that, we'll just have to see.
'Dry-land drown' occurs when lungs get inflamed. The lungs try to soothe the inflammation with liquid, but if the irritation doesn't stop, liquid could fill the lungs and the person literally drown on dry land. This is how many soldiers that were gassed in World War One died...
"Commander Troy," said one of the firemen, "how did you see that kid? None of us could see him until we were right up there in it."
"I..." I started, then stopped, realizing it for the first time. "I don't know... I just... saw him. I... I have no answer for you... I just saw him there, and you guys went and got him."
Everyone nodded, amazed at what I'd just told them. I said "I'll be back in a few minutes." I went to another section of the Hospital, where the offices of the doctors on Staff were. One of them was a small office for my wife to use if she needed to. I went inside, finding her computer on the desk, and of course knowing the password to access it though she'd never told me.
"What are you doing?" Cindy asked, seeing me typing furiously. I had her come over and look.
"Make that last paragraph from both of us." Cindy said, having every right to do so.