“North,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “You need to take a beat.”
I freeze. I don’t have my mask on, but in that moment, I don’t care what regulations that’ll break.
“Let me go,” I warn.
He meets my gaze, and then against orders, he does.
Turning, I race across the grass, slipping twice as Camilo yells my name. When it’s clear I’m not going to turn back, he begins barking orders at Logan, Kelsey, and Teo to get the hose ready.
The sounds become background noise as I stumble up the steps and fall to my knees as the heat becomes unbearable. I can tell immediately that the flames are mostly coming from the living room, and from the height of the flames, I can tell the fire has already spread past the drywall and is consuming the wood and insulation.
We have minutes to deal with this, maybe less.
I blink against the smoke and realize the man in the doorway isn’t Leo. It’s the neighbor Easton’s been paying to keep an eye on Leo.
“Chuck?” I ask.
He turns and coughs. “I found him on the floor by the coffee table. I wasn’t strong enough to get him all the way out,” he rasps. “Got him this far, but his legs are burned.”
The body Mr. Baylin’s holding is Leo, and my heart sinks into my feet. I reach for him, but suddenly, he goes stiff all over and starts to shake. I’ve seen this before recently. But the last time, he was in my arms.
“Chuck, I need you to get to the street. Walk carefully on the lawn, and don’t stop until you’re near the truck.”
I can see flames licking up the walls now as I reach forward and put my arms under Leo’s stiff body. This seizure’s a bad one, and it feels a bit like he’s fighting me, but I manage to collect him in my arms and pull him down off the porch, into the pouring rain. It doesn’t take me long to notice the blistering skin going from his knees to the bottoms of his feet.
He’s going to be in agony when he comes out of this.
“We need EMS!” I shout at Logan, who’s halfway across the lawn now.
Camilo has the hose out, and Kelsey’s preparing to help him.
He nods and grabs his radio as I pull Leo further toward the street. The rain begins to ease just a little, just enough that I can see a bit more clearly. His body’s starting to soften, and his mouth parts—I see a bit of blood where he’s bitten his lip, but nothing looks emergent.
His pulse is unsteady, but it’s strong, and his breathing is starting to even out.
I check him for more burns, but I don’t find any. His feet and legs took the worst of it. Second-degree, I’m willing to bet. Not the most painful recovery, but he won’t be walking for a while.
A sob lodges in my throat, but I pull myself together enough to get Leo in a cradle hold and scoot us closer to the truck.
“I don’t know if you can hear me,” I tell him over the sound of the hose, “but I’m here, and you’re going to be okay.”
In the distance, the sounds of the ambulance get louder, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Glancing up, Camilo moves closer to me, and I’m waiting for him to cuss me out.
He doesn’t, of course. He just gives me a firm nod and then goes back to handling the scene.
I know I’m going to get reamed for this later, but this is Easton’s brother. The one who’s been through hell and back. Any one of us would have done the same, knowing who was inside that house.
“How many injured?” comes a familiar shout.
I look up as Axel comes around the truck, and his eyes widen. “One. Male, twenty-eight. Leo Harris.” My voice cracks right at the end.
“Shit,” Axel says, dropping to his knees, while another EMT I don’t recognize turns the corner with the stretcher. “Is that?—”
“Yeah,” I say. “Easton’s brother.”
Axel gets his vitals, then looks down at his legs. “Jesus.” He passes a hand down his face to clear away some of the rain.
I glance back at the house. Camilo and Kelsey have it mostly contained, but there’s no saving that. I can already see the char and where it’s going to eventually collapse.
