Even though Kristine had grown up among actors, artists, and writers, she hadn’t inherited the need to express herself publicly. Despite being paranormally gifted, she had been a sheltered kid—and that was fine with her. As a little dragon, she’d never felt like she fit in. She was happiest when reading in her room overlooking Ninth Avenue.
She knew she wasn’t supposed to talk about shapeshifting or demonstrate what she could do, ever. When she grew up, she realized there was something special she could do with her powers other than just protect herself. Because she was fireproof, she would make an ideal firefighter. She could protect her community.
She loved the job. Only a handful of women worked for the FDNY, and half of them were on ambulances. She was one of the few with the strength and fortitude to do the heavy lifting required of a firefighter on the front lines.
She had proven herself to be the equal of any man in her battalion. They respected her and depended upon her to have their backs. And as much as she cared about her fellow firefighters, she could never see herself falling in love with one of them. She would worry constantly, knowing what he was up against as a mere mortal.
One ordinary Thursday, her battalion was gathered around the long kitchen table, eating lunch and watchingJudge Judyon the wall-mounted TV, when the tones rang out. They all rushed to their turnout gear, suited up, and jumped into their usual roles.
Kristine rode next to Donovan on the ladder truck. When the truck pulled up to the high-rise office building, smoke was pouring out of two large broken windows on the fourth floor. A police cruiser was already there, getting people to clear the area for the fire apparatus. So far nothing seemed unusual.
Kristine and Donovan followed the captain into the building to locate the seat of the fire. Alarms were blaring, and people were filing down the stairs. When the firefighters came to the fourth floor, they located the office they had seen from the outside. The captain pounded on the door and yelled, identifying them as the fire department.
When there was no response, the captain instructed Kristine and Donovan to take off the door with the ax and halligan bar. Two other firefighters from the engine company rushed up behind them hauling the hose. One of them broke into the firebox on the wall. As soon as the door was breached, flames shot out from the hole.
They had the right place.
When they got the door open, the captain barked out, “Scotty, stay with me. Donovan, go above and see if anyone is still up there.”
“Yes sir,” he said and dashed to the stairs.
The captain didn’t need to tell Kristine to step aside. When the pressurized water hit the fire, steam filled the hallway. The guy carrying the hose entered slowly, bathing the place in water. Between the smoke and steam, firefighters had to go in blind and look for survivors or people who weren’t that lucky.
“Scotty, stay beside me.”
Kristine followed the captain’s orders, even though she knew he was in more danger than she was. He kept one gloved hand on the wall to avoid becoming lost. She placed a hand on his shoulder and walked a few feet to his right. Even a dragon could barely see through this.
Her foot hit something dense but soft. Squatting down, she felt a leg. “I’ve got someone,” she said. Hauling the person up by the arms, she tossed his torso over her shoulder and made her way back to the door.
She heard the captain shouting into the radio that she was coming down and to have EMS ready. Something felt off about the body she was carrying. She had to adjust its position to account for an uneven distribution of weight.
When she finally made it to the street level, the EMTs were there to meet her, but as she emerged, their eyes bugged out of their heads.
“You’re covered in blood!” the female EMT exclaimed.
She glanced down and saw that it was true. She squatted down, braced the victim’s back with her hand, and gently laid the headless body onto the sidewalk. Startled, she jumped backward and gasped.
The cop who had been redirecting traffic ran over. “What the hell?”
The chief strode over and set his hands on his hips. “As soon as we put the fire out, you can have your crime scene.”
“Jesus,” muttered the male EMT. “The coroner won’t have any problem identifying cause of death.”
The captain’s voice crackled over the radio, alerting the chief that he was coming out with another body.
“You don’t have to go back in there, Scotty. You’ve got to be pretty shaken up right now.”
“No, sir. I’m fine. I’d like to go back in there and help where I’m needed.”
The chief smiled and nodded.
On her way back in, she passed the captain, carrying a second body in the same condition. She didn’t take the time to find out if he knew what was going on; she just rushed up the stairs faster.
I wonder where the heads are.
When she reached the fourth floor, the steam met her as soon as she opened the fire door. She rushed through it and worried about her mortal coworkers, who could be standing in boiling water.
If she had to shift, her thick scales would protect her, and her alternate form’s wings wouldn’t show because her turnout gear covered her up to the neck. She only had to worry about her snout protruding and interfering with her breathing apparatus. Fortunately, she wasn’t huge like the dragons of Hollywood. She was five-foot-ten as a human or dragon.
