Page 56 of Rising Heat

“My son is still in there! I couldn’t get to his room.”

Everything else drops away.

I pick up speed, reaching the sill as Tyler’s voice crackles through my radio.

“Primary’s got one in the front bedroom. Coop’s clearing the bathroom.”

I swing through the opening into smoke thick enough to taste and barely have both boots on the floor before the woman grabs my sleeve.

“My son⁠—”

“I’ve got him.”

The words come automatically, steady and calm because panic is contagious and somebody in the room has to be the opposite. The kid is wedged beneath a desk in the corner bedroom, eyes locked on the flames chewing their way down the hallway, frozen hard enough that I know he’s not moving on his own.

So I crouch in front of him and wait until he finally looks at me.

“Hey, kid. You breathing?”

A nod.

“Good. That’s all I need.”

His eyes drift back toward the smoke, the flames working down the hall.

“Look at me.”

He does.

“There you go. You’re gonna come with me now.”

I reach for him.

“I got you.”

I scoop him up and pull him against my chest, one arm hooked beneath his legs as I turn back toward the window. Kids always weigh less than you expect going up and somehow twice as much coming down, but by the time I reach the sill Marco is already in position below, one hand on the ladder, the other ready to spot the descent.

I swing out first, keeping the kid tucked tight against me as I start down. A few seconds later my boots hit the pavement and his mother is there before I’ve fully let go, pulling him into her arms so fast it almost takes me with them. The kid clings to my turnout coat for half a second before releasing it, and I barely register any of it.

Tyler and Coop emerge from the front entrance a minute later, black with soot and looking entirely too pleased with themselves.

“Did you just steal my save?” Coop asks.

“You were busy.”

“We found ours first.”

“You want a medal?”

Coop flips me off.

Tyler ignores him and stops beside me, his chest still working from the search. For a second neither of us says anything, just the same quick visual check we’ve been doing our whole lives.

He nods once, I nod back. Then he grins.

“Nice work, hero.”

“Shut up.”