The last thought I have before I pass out is of my daughter's cool blue eyes, and the jade green eyes I wish I could see one more time.
CHAPTER 42
JACK
No more thanfifteen minutes after the first call, we get a second to the same location. The computerized voice begins dispatching the details.
"Attention Engine 12, Ladder 3, Rescue 5 – respond to a residential structure fire, possible arson related to domestic dispute. Address: 2214 Maple Hollow Road. Caller reports house fully involved, one victim possibly trapped inside, suspect seen fleeing the scene on foot. Law enforcement en route. Use caution. Time out: 02:41."
My feet freeze just before I can take a step down the stairs. Anderson runs past me, but I grab him by the shirt. “Did it just say Maple Hollow Road?”
“Yeah,” Anderson says, looking at me confused, until we both hear the details again. Our eyes lock when we hear the street address. “Isn’t that?—”
I rush down the stairs, barreling into whoever is in my way. Adrenaline and pure terror overwhelms me, taking over my muscle memory as I gear up, my vision going blurry as I run to the truck.
“Jack!” Anderson yells to me, but it sounds like he’s underwater. “Jack!” he says again, this time closer.
“What?” I bark.
“We need your orders,” Anderson says among the movement of everyone gearing up and getting into the truck, and I can see his worried features trying to hide beneath a look of calm.
I shake my head, needing to keep a level-head. I exhale. “This is a potential arson with a victim inside—move fast and stay sharp. Ladder 3, you're on primary search; Rescue 5, back them up and check for extension. Engine 12, get water on that structure and secure a line for interior.” My voice is tense and loud, and the crew watches me carefully as I turn to get in the truck.
Once we’re all loaded up, we pull out into the evening, the low sun casting a warm glow over the horizon, but I can’t focus on anything except for what the fuck happened.
An active fire at Rumi’s house—is she home? Is Ava? What about Evee?
So many scenarios run through my brain, and it feels harder and harder to breathe with each one.
I can’t freeze.
I can’t make a mistake.
She needs to be okay.
“It’s my girlfriend’s address.” I look into the eyes of each member of my crew as the truck speeds down the road, my heart on the verge of exploding.
Wecan’t make a mistake.
Understanding dawns on their faces just before each one looks at me with determination in their eyes.
As the truck nears Rumi’s neighborhood, I see the rising column of dark, churning smoke above the rooftops, flickering orange light mixing with the approaching sunset.
“Watch for structural instability and be alert for the suspect. PD's en route,” I order.
And I hope for the suspect’s sake that one of the others finds them—there’s no telling what I’ll do if I do.
As we approach the scene, I’m supposed to repeat orders and oversee the processes, but when I see the house of the woman I love up in flames, I don’t hesitate.
Forgetting any protocol or way of handling these situations, I run directly to the front door—fuck any and all training and conditioning. I don’t even waste time grabbing my SCBA or a mask.
“Hasting!” I hear from behind me, from multiple voices of the crew, but I don’t care. I trust them to do what needs to be done, the same way I’m doing exactly what I need to do.
Kicking the door down, making a promise in my head to Rumi that I’ll fix it again, I enter the house, finding it completely filled with thick, choking smoke. Glowing embers and flickering flames cast eerie shadows over the place I’ve gotten to know so well, and the heat is so intense that it distorts my vision.
A sense of urgency takes over as I hear the structure groan, and I have to rely on my familiarity with the house to make my way through it with how low visibility is, my arm in front of my face to decrease the amount of smoke I inhale.
Moving through the entryway, I enter the kitchen where I find a body slumped on the ground, blood coming from their head. My heart rate spikes, my stomach plummeting before I realize it’s a body I don’t recognize.
