Page 65 of Hearts Storm

When the Lakeside County Library comes into view, all I can see is thick black smoke billowing from the second-floor windows. My stomach drops when I glance down at the blueprints spread across my lap.

Shit. It looks like it could be the children’s section.

Dispatch said the alarm was triggered manually, and that no one called 911 to report seeing flames until five minutes later. But the amount of smoke tells me this is no false alarm.

“Engine One on scene,” I announce as Kurtis pulls up to the front entrance. “Saint, take the ladder team around back. I want eyes on all exits.”

“On it.” Brex jumps out, moving to direct the ladder truck crew.

I scan the building, noting the smoke patterns. “Kurtis, you’re with me. We’re breaching the front doors.”

The library is a two-story brick building—classic architecture that’s been a Lakeside landmark for over fifty years. The thought of it going up in flames makes me sick to my stomach.

“Alan, Taylor! Get the hose on the second floor! I want water on those flames yesterday!” I bark.

As we haul ass toward the front entrance, I press the button on my comm. “Dispatch, send an ambulance STAT. Possible civilians inside.”

Helmet in place, my heart hammers hard as we shoulder our way through the double doors.

The second we’re through, a wave of heat smacks me right in the face. Even through my turnout gear, it’s oppressive. A dry, suffocating heat telling me we’ve only got minutes before it takes over the whole building.

Smoke chokes the lobby, thick and black, rolling along the ceiling in waves as my breath Darth Vader’s loudly in my ear.

“Lakeside Fire!” I shout, voice muffled by my SCBA mask. “Anyone in here?”

The only answer is the crackle of flames and the distant hiss of water smacking against heat as the crew starts blasting the roof from the outside.

“Heads up, Cap. Second floor looks almost fully involved,” Brex’s voice crackles through my radio. “East wing. Kids’ section.”

My stomach drops. Just as I thought. “Any news of civilians from the other team?”

“Negative. They’re still sweeping.”

“Copy. Keep me posted.” I key off, turning to Kurtis. “We’re going up. Stay low and on my six.”

Cutting the flashlight through the haze, he moves to my left. “Stairs are clear, Cap.”

With the stairwell already filling with smoke, visibility drops to almost zero as we climb, heat intensifying with each careful step. I can hear the fire now. The unmistakable roar. A living, breathing thing feeding on decades of history.

The sound crawls up my spine, but I shove the fear down deep where it belongs.

At the top of the stairs, the heat is even more intense.

Flames lick along the ceiling, crawling across shelves of picture books and bean bag chairs. Charred and crumbling, pages curl as the fire devours. Carpet smolders beneath our boots, and somewhere to my left, a beam cracks, filling the air with a sound like a gunshot.

“Jesus,” Kurtis mutters from behind me. “It’s moving so fucking fast.”

“Too fast,” I agree, scanning the room.

Glass shatters as a torrent of water blasts through the second-floor windows.

Instantly, I drop into a crouch, shielding my face with my arm as icy spray cuts through the smoke, causing steam to billow up from the smoldering carpet. The pressure’s brutal. Brex and his team are laying it on thick, and for a second I’m grateful the heat’s been knocked back a few degrees.

“Brex, you son of a bitch,” I mutter into my comm. “A little warning next time.”

His laugh crackles through the comm. “No can do, Cap. Fire waits for no one.”

Shaking my head, I motion Kurtis forward. “Let’s move. Stay low.”