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Alerts sounded with a variety of beeps and bells and then the siren, sure to wake up the surrounding residents.
“Okay, now we’re talkin’,” Mike said, jumping into action and happy for the diversion.
But when the second and third alarm called, he grew serious. Over the intercom, a disembodied female voice called out “Attention, engine 5, engine 2, ladder 1, rescue 1, squad 1, squad 4, duty chief C-3, fire chief C-1, fire investigator unit 90, fire mechanic, this is a structure fire, three-hundred block of Ragged Canyon Road.”
“Great. That’s about as remote as you can get.”
In seconds, the doors were up on the bays, and the trucks were pulling out when the next alarm went out, adding battalions and engines from surrounding jurisdictions. En route, a fifth alarm went out. Chatter in the cab ended.
The wooden structure fire had quickly gone through the yard and spread to the surrounding wooded canyon and, in the fast wind blowing north, was crawling up the steep, rocky canyon wall.
The rescue 1 team—Devon, Mike and Rick—and rescue 2 team arrived and grabbed their gear, shovels and pickaxes, and after the fire chief directed them, they ran to their positions and began the arduous task of digging a control line around a perimeter of residential structures.
The rhythm of bringing the pickaxes up over their heads and down to the rocky soil again and again helped the agony of the physical labor.
“You got your radios on?” Fire Chief George came up behind them. “You ain’t answering.”
“We must be in a dead zone,” Devon shouted, holding up his radio. Once he looked up, he could see the smoke had gotten thicker.
“Keep an eye on that fire line,” George shouted above the wind. “If your radios ain’t workin’, you won’t hear alerts. Rick, be the lookout. Get up on the bluff.”
“Yes, sir,” Rick said, moving ahead where he could see the fire creeping up the mountainside now. “It’s moving fast away from us.”
The men, ten in all, kept working, moving east, hearing shouts as the sparsely populated, rural residential neighborhood was evacuated.
The squawk of a radio call getting through told the men the wind had started to shift in the opposite direction, coming right toward them now, burning down the canyon wall.
“We’re okay,” George said. “There’s a thousand acres between that line and us.”
Devon could hear a chain saw starting up. George would be cutting down trees just ahead of them. For fifteen minutes they worked. But like an apparition, suddenly a wall of flame reared up right in front of them.
“Go back, go back!” Rick screamed from his post. Over the radio, he yelled, “Rescue 1 and 2, Mayday, Mayday!”
Mike grabbed Devon’s arm. “Let’s get George and get out of here,” he yelled.
They dropped their axes and ran toward the fire. George was still running the saw and didn’t hear the radio command.
“Let’s go,” Devon shouted. “Look behind you.”
“Oh shit,” George replied, following Devon, who led the way.
The lights on their helmets were not cutting through the smoke. Devon turned on a high-intensity flashlight, but it soon wasn’t needed when the fire flashed in front of them again with such strength that it knocked the men to their knees. Injured by the flames, George couldn’t keep up, so Devon and Mike got under each arm, dragging him along to the flat valley bottom.
It happened so fast, later Devon said he didn’t have time to think. The three men were hiding behind a granite rock outcropping when the hot fire surrounded them, the noise horrendous, heat and smoke making it almost impossible to keep going, and they didn’t really know which way to move to get out. George and Mike were overcome with smoke, falling to the ground at the same time.
“George!” Devon cried, trying to rouse him, but he was unconscious. “Mike!”
“I’m here,” Mike said, getting up on his knees.
Devon grabbed Mike and lifted him over his shoulder, tramping through the flames for a mile until he came to a clearing. Rick saw him, shouted for help, and more men came to their aid.
“George is still back there,” Devon cried.
They hiked for miles with Mike still over Devon’s shoulder, to a rescue truck from a different squad. Devon and Mike were the paramedics from their station, but there were others at the scene because of the number of alarms. They worked on Mike while Devon stayed in the background, his crew members comforting him. It wasn’t until later that the extent of his burns was realized.
Chapter 4
At five, Aisling’s cell phone rang before her alarm went off. Thinking it was Mike, she quickly answered without checking who the caller was.
