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“Going with you,” she said. “Alice Shelton lives there. Divorced mom with six kids, ages four to eleven. You may need someone with medical training.”
“I’m a certified paramedic.” But he’d already turned over the engine.
“Yes, but you can’t be and do everything.”
The truck bed rocked as Thomas climbed into it. Les opened the back window so Brick could speak to him. “Hold on.”
“Tell Marcus,” Thomas called out to Rory.
Rory gave him a thumbs up. Les caught the flash of frustration on his face, having to stay behind. However, proving what Brick had told her at the treehouse, it was only a flash. He was already pushing himself into the house to find Marcus, Daralyn opening the screen for him.
Once out of their driveway, Brick glanced in the rearview to confirm Thomas had heard his warning. Then he punched the gas. It told Les how concerned he was about that smoke.
“The fire’s coming out an upper and lower window,” he told her. “And they’re not vertically aligned. It’s already spread out from the origin point through a big chunk of the house. White smoke means it’s not as involved upstairs yet, but it’s going to get there. Visibility inside may already be for shit.”
Please God, let nobody be home. Unfortunately, her prayer came too late. As Brick pulled up in front of the house, Les saw four children in the yard, two dogs anxiously milling around them.
As Brick had noted, smoke was coming out of two windows. Jagged glass marked the lower one with the black smoke, perhaps broken from the pressure of the heat. It looked like the upstairs one had been open. She thought she could see flame flickering behind one of the closed and unbroken ground level windows.
“The oldest is Gracie,” Thomas told Brick as they exited the truck. “She’s eleven.”
Gracie was riding herd on the three she had clustered around her, even as she was yelling at the house. Les’s blood went cold, not just at the desperation in her voice, but what she was screaming.
“Marty! Josie!”
She turned a frightened face toward them, and ran toward the truck. The two younger girls came right with her, like ducklings keeping close to the mother. She had a firm hold on an eight-year-old boy, who was digging in his heels. “Lemme go! We have to get Marty and Josie and Spud!”
“Hush, Kobe. My phone was inside,” she told Thomas, the face most familiar to her. “Momma’s at the Lumberton Walmart, doing a shift for the extra holiday money.”
“Where’d the fire start, Gracie?” Brick asked.
Despite everything happening, she gave him a coherent answer, used to the responsibility of caring for younger siblings. “I don’t know. I saw smoke coming out of what seemed like the living room, but when I went that way, it was burning my eyes. It was too thick going up the stairs, where the twins are.” Her voice broke with that desperate thinness again. “I couldn’t see, and it was so hot. Kobe was trying to go up with me and I thought…”
She shook her head. “I thought when I called them and they didn’t respond, maybe they were already out, so I took everyone outside. Marty and Josie share a room.”
“Spud,” Kobe shouted. “Gracie, let me the fuck go.”
“That’s his guinea pig,” she said, ignoring the profanity. “Kobe’s room is next to theirs.”
Brick glanced at his watch again, and Les saw him suppress a curse. He headed back to his truck with a determined stride that had her following. Her heart thudded in trepidation. Thomas stayed behind to help Gracie with Kobe and the girls.
“Carter’s a good chief, but he’s not as good as Smith was,” Brick muttered to her. “The first engine should be on site within fifteen minutes, tops. God damn it.”
It had been ten minutes. If a truck was close, they’d be hearing sirens. Brick flipped open the storage box in the bed, revealing the turnout gear.
“Fairhope has an automatic aid call to nearby departments for a structure fire,” he told her as he pulled it on. “But they’re farther out.”
In little more than a minute, he was suited up, the air canister of the SCBA seated on his back, the harness for it tightened down. He checked the gauge and grasped the mask and helmet, turning to stride back toward the children.
“Brick.”
Thomas had taken over holding Kobe and had settled him down, but the boy’s body language was still mutinous. At the sight of a suited-up fireman, Kobe’s angry expression eased a fraction.
Brick pointed to the broken window, drawing Gracie’s attention. “That’s the living room.”
“Yes sir.” Tears were in her voice. Brick put a hand on her shoulder.
“Tell me the layout.”
