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LESLIE
Avoice comes over the intercom system, alerting us to a fire on Atlanta Avenue, and the alarm blares to get everyone's attention inside the station. The cot squeaks as I sit up and poke Angela next to me. Of course, a call comes in right as I’m about to doze off.Just my luck.
“Get up. Let’s go!” I yell, knowing every second makes a difference.
She wipes her eyes and looks around and finally hears the alarm. “Shit!”
Working overnight shifts suck, but we sneak in a nap every chance we can get. Sometimes, it’s non-stop and other nights we don’t get a single call. We never know what we are going to get, but are always ready to go. It’s part of our extensive training. Not to mention, our father is the chief, and he expects more from us than the other firefighters.
The men try to treat us like we’re equal, but sometimes it’s hard not to notice when they don’t. They barely speak to us, except Damon and Tristan. It’s like we don’t exist until we are on a call and they need our help.Isn’t that funny?So what if we’re females? We can handle our own because our father raised us to be good firefighters. You can’t imagine the crazy things our father has had us do before we started here. He wanted proof that he wouldn’t have to worry about us out in the field. Here we are, years later, and he has never had a complaint.
We run to the locker room, and I pull on my fire retardant pants, snap the suspenders against my shoulder, and shove my feet into the fireproof steel-toed boots. You never know when you’re going to have to go inside and save someone. It’s better to be prepared in gear.
Damon is yelling at everyone, telling them to hurry up. The dispatcher says the fire is spreading quickly and they need a quick dispatch. That’s understandable, but we can’t get on-site without protective gear.
Thick gloves slide over my hands as I rush to gather all my other gear. Heavy boots run across the concrete bay floor as the rumbling of the engine echoes off of the walls. Angela opens the high bay doors and jumps in the truck just as Damon turns the sirens on and pulls out onto the street.
He isn’t normally on this shift, but with a new baby at home, he tries to help his wife out as much as he can during the day. Why he would give up his day shift is beyond me? Hell, if they gave me the opportunity, I’d stick with it for the long haul. Everyone wants to work the day shift. For some weird reason, it’s where the least amount of action happens. I assume because people are at work, in school, or whatever for most of the day.
“How’s that baby doing? Sleeping better at night, yet?” I ask.
He shakes his head and hands his wallet back to me. “That’s the newest shot of her. It’s my first time being there since birth. Emily isn’t legally mine, so I missed all the newborn and toddler stages. Tell me it gets easier?”
Damon doesn’t take his eyes off of the road, so he doesn’t see me shrug my shoulders. “I don’t have kids, so how would I know?”
We pass an accident on the way, but can’t deter from the fire. They will have to find someone else to respond. It looks pretty bad with a car flipped upside down and two smashed vehicles.
My stomach always drops when we get a call, because in the course of my career, I have discovered more dead bodies than I’d like to admit, and it never gets easier. The consequences of a slow response is engraved into my brain, and I never want that on my conscience.
As we approach the scene, the billowing smoke doesn’t look good, but there are people lined in the streets when we come to a stop. The police are already on scene and trying to keep bystanders away.
“Everyone accounted for?” I ask.
“The neighbor says there is a family inside, and the car is still in the driveway,” he says, pointing to the silver Toyota Camry.
Angela and I look at each other, and run toward the front door of the home, where smoke is sliding underneath. We put our masks on before entering. Flames are licking the walls and a haze coats the room.
“Hello? Anyone in here?” I yell, turning around to signal to Angela that I’m going to head to check the bedrooms and she follows me.
“Divide and Conquer, sis.”
The bedroom at the end of the hallway has smoke coming from under the door, and when I turn the knob and push it open, it hits me in the face. I swipe at the waft of smoke trying to see, and that’s when my eyes set on a young girl, maybe seven, lying unconscious on the floor.
When I scoop her up in my arms, there is no response, but there’s a pulse. If she doesn’t get clean air soon, she might not make it. I rush through the home, trying to shield her as best I can from any flames.
“Female. Around seven-years-old. Unconscious and needs oxygen now!” I yell, as the EMTs take her from me and I go back inside.
The fire is spreading quickly, and the entire structure is unsecure. Angela runs out of the second bedroom and waves at me to follow. I enter and there are two bodies, one male and one female, on the floor. I squat to check their pulse and nothing.
I look up at Angela and shake my head. “They are gone, but we need to get them out of here.”
Removing them from the scene before they get burned might save the family some agony when it comes to a funeral and identifying the bodies later.
We use teamwork to get the woman out first, and then the man.
The little girl is awake when we get to the firetruck, but then the EMTs announce there are no pulses, and the little girl bawls.
