Page 52 of Flash Freeze

I should have thought of that! Flash marveled at Shaquille’s preparedness.

She watched as he made slow, steady progress toward the chimney. “Adams, don’t take all day!”

“I’m coming!”

At once, something went wrong. Woods slipped. His steps bore into the snowy roof to no avail as an immense sheet of powder-covered ice started to slide out from under him. Pieces large and small crashed over the eave, peppering Flores, who continued to ground the ladder. Bobbie looked like a cartoon character running in place. Then his feet flew out from under him as his chest hit the cracked, careening ice sheet, carrying him with it.

Heart pounding, Flash rushed to Flores’ side. “Try to grab the ladder,” she yelled up. “Grab something!”

Ice blocks broke off as the sheet came over the side, spilling buckets of snow onto Flash and Bobbie. In an instant, Waylon was there too.

“Hang on, Shaquille!” he yelled.

Flash squeezed between her crewmates and started climbing. If nothing else, she might catch a piece of him to break his fall. Frosty bits stung her eyes. She moved faster. Then Woods’ boots spilled over, followed by his dangling legs. Her stomach caught in her throat. She’d sent him up there as part of a routine roof check to see whether the fire had spread. They knew the roof would be slick, but this?

She felt the ladder jerk and wobble. Waylon and Bobbie held it firm. Shaquille didn’t fall. He’d snagged the top of the rail.

“Hang on,” she said. “I’m coming.”

Flash guided his feet to the rungs and waited for him to be steady. With a tight grip on the rails, she descended two rungs ahead of him, ensuring he’d make it down safely.

“Woods,” she said, relieved when his feet were on the ground. “What happened up there?”

“My guess is the heat from the fire started melting the ice.”

The realization slammed into her, stealing her breath. “I should have accounted for that. I should have known.”

“Why?” Woods answered casually. “Because you’ve had so much experience fighting fires in blizzards? I’m OK. Now, I think it’s safe to assume the fire has spread to the attic.”

The miscalculation, the mistake that could have landed one of her firefighters in the hospital, pierced Flash to the core with guilt and regret, but she didn’t have time to deal with it now.

“OK. Waylon, let’s get this line in there and shut it down. Woods, you all right?”

“I just said I’m fine.”

Unconvinced, she patted him down, looking him over. “Are you sure? No pain? Didn’t hit your head?”

“Just fell flat, but I’m ready to rock and roll.”

Knowing they had limited time to attack the fire, she nodded, forced to trust him. “You and Flores get the other line in there. We’ll attack from the fireplace and the upstairs attic access panel.”

“We’re on it,” Flores said with a wink. He gave Woods a bro-hug. “Although, if you had skittered off that roof like a dog off a speeding treadmill, you could still cook for us with your leg in a cast.”

Flash didn’t feel like jokes. She and Waylon dragged their hose to the front door.

“Wow, that was crazy,” the man exclaimed. “Glad the fireman is OK.”

“Me too,” Flash answered. “Where’s your attic access?”

“At the end of the upstairs hallway, in front of the linen closet,” he said.

“Don’t forget about Whiskers!” wailed the little girl.

“I’ll keep a lookout.” Turning to Waylon, she said, “Let’s go.”

Smoke swirled near the ceiling upstairs, banking down around the cracks in the access panel at the end of the hall. As long as the cat wasn’t up there, it should be fine. Flash opened the valve to drench the board before attempting to push it back. When she gave Waylon the OK, he hit it with his Halligan. The sudden influx of air fueled the blaze, sending tongues of fire whipping through the opening, as if lashing out at Flash for making such a stupid mistake. She turned the valve and aimed her stream right up the flames’ ass.

When the fire was out, Flash opened bedroom doors, checking rooms. An orange-and-white calico streaked out from under a child’s bed and down the stairs.