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“Behind you,” Nick said in her radio. As she turned on the landing, she saw him at the bottom and a figure that was her captain at the door.
She finished the staircase, crouching and looking for occupants through the thick black smoke.
“My name is Megan White. I’m with Station Three here to help. Tell me where you are,” she said, yelling above the sound. There was a moan followed by coughing to the right of the stairs.
An older gentleman in pajamas lay on the floor of a smoke-filled bedroom next to his flip phone, holding a pillow to his mouth. His hand stretched out to her, and his eyes were wide in his red face.
“I got you. Sir, we’re going to get you out. My name is Megan and this is Nick. He’s going to help you out.”
He sputtered and coughed again. “Wait, please, my dog is here. I don’t know where he went, but Levi ran off after the smoke alarms started.”
“I’ll find him. Nick, take him and go.”
Resigned and filled with worry, the man started to shake.
Nick crouched low. “Sir, can you walk? I’m going to help carry you out.”
Megan hoisted up the man and draped his arm over Nick’s back before scanning the remainder of the room. No dog.
“Megan, we’re having luck with the temperature down here. Workin’ to save the ceiling, but move fast. We can see Nick coming now.”
She hit the radio button, taking care to avoid the emergency button which would send in the cavalry. “Got it. I’m looking for a dog. We need EMS to check the occupant out.”
“Will do, but when I say get out of there, you better move your ass.”
“10-4.” Megan scanned the room, closets, and looked under the bed before moving to what appeared to be an older boy’s room. Even through the smoke, she could see it had not been used in some time.
There was one more room down the hall. Megan pushed in through the smoke and peered into the closet again, noting it was full but, judging by the conditions, hadn’t been used in some time. A whimper turned her attention under the bed, where she crouched down to see an old golden retriever easing back against the wall, shaking.
“Easy boy, easy.”
A gruff woof followed by a growl and whimper had him retreating farther.
“Come on, Megan. Tank’s almost out of water; we’ve got to go. Moving to exterior attack.”
“One minute,” she said, knowing she was on borrowed time.
Checking to make sure she was alone, Megan did the unthinkable. She pulled off her helmet and removed the oxygen mask.
“Come on, boy. It’s okay. I got you.”
The dog perked up but shrank back from her glove.
“Okay, fine,” she said, pulling off her glove and extending her hand to the animal.
Sure enough, one inch, then another, followed by a careful exploratory lick, and then the dog came forward enough for her to grab his collar and drag him out into her lap where the big guy curled and continued to shake while licking her face.
“We’re not out of the woods yet.”
A loud crash told her something had fallen down below.
“Time to go, buddy.”
The smoke was darker now in the back hall as the flames traveled up one of the exterior walls, probably through the kitchen window up the outside. There wouldn’t be much to save at this point.
The heat smothered the oxygen in the house, gobbling it up in a frenzy of greed, pulling it out of her lungs. Sparks flew like fireflies in the black clouds that mixed with the steam from the hose. The temperature was rising with all three elements, and while she had every faith that Buzz and the crew had a handle on things, there was only so much they could control if they couldn’t take out one of the three ingredients of the fire—oxygen, heat, and fuel.
A large crack echoed through the smoke ahead of her.
