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Get in truck.
Put on earphones.
“One alarm. Sixth Street. Persons inside unknown.”
That wasn’t far from Grey Paws. A few blocks. Panic I wasn’t used to wound its way into my chest.
I had my routine. I was levelheaded when it came to emergency calls.
They’d be fine. But it was too close for comfort.
The sirens wailed as we raced through the streets. I’d always liked that sound. It meant help was on the way. I’d become a fireman because I wanted to help people.
Would my father have been happier if I’d become a doctor?
No. I wouldn’t think of him now. Wouldn’t let him infiltrate the career I took great pride in.
The blaze came into view. A dumpster was engulfed. Flames licked up the side of the brick building beside it.
Bystanders had gathered with buckets and hoses and curious eyes.
I had the door open before we rolled to a stop and immediately unleashed the hose. Burke helped me drag it toward the hydrant as Walsh removed the cap so we could hook up.
“Thank you for the help, but stand back everyone.” I ushered the people to the opposite side of the street.
Embers floated up into the sky as the fire raged.
A blast of water pelted the dumpster.
Boom.
An explosion lifted it off the ground. It landed with a clang as glass and metal and trash rained down.
Screams filled the air. People scurried and panicked.
I ducked and covered my head. The guys on the hose never stopped spraying.
Thwack.
Something landed in front of me. I leaned forward to examine whatever it was. It was charred, almost like a small log.
I nudged it with my boot.
Was that . . . a foot?
I stepped back. “Burke. Get over here.”
He jogged over. “Yo.”
I pointed at the object, pretty sure that was a toenail hanging off.
“What the hell?” He squatted down. “That’s a freaking foot.”
At least I wasn’t imagining things. Although, I wished I was.
Another piece of debris caught my gaze a few yards away. I hustled over. “Here’s a hand.”
“Oh damn. You think somebody was in that dumpster?” Burke said over the comms.
