by K. C. Crowne
“Owen!” Austin called out. “Crowd control, please.”
“What the fuck, man?” Owen called back to Austin.
I cringed and looked over at Luke, all geared up and ready to enter the building. Luke shook his head, neither one of us had to say what we were thinking. There were more important things to worry about than Owen's hurt feelings.
I put the mask over my face, and oxygen immediately started to flow through, pushing out the horrible stench of burning wood from the building.
“You heard me,” Austin said. “Make sure no one steps off the sidewalk or comes under that tape. Help the cops keep them back, man.”
“Why me?” Owen said.
“Because you're the low man on the totem pole. You have less experience. That's the price you pay for being the newbie. Now, go,” Austin demanded.
“Fucking newbie,” Wes muttered under his breath, as he climbed out of the back of the truck.
Owen started to argue some more, but Luke and I were already moving toward the building and were out of hearing distance. The fire was growing larger as Owen continued to sulk over his assignment. Someone had to get the job done. Wes, Luke, and I walked toward the building, and I marveled at just how engulfed it was. Austin wasn't far behind us, and I didn't bother to look back and see if Owen was there. I knew better. Austin was in charge, and Owen might not like it, but he knew he had to listen.
Even before stepping into the flaming building, I was already sweating like crazy inside my suit – and I knew it was going to be even hotter inside the warehouse. Waves of smoke washed over us as we stepped inside the building, making it impossible to see. It was dark inside, and we couldn't hear ourselves think over the sound of our breathing apparatus and the cracking of the fire burning around us.
With our thermal imaging camera, we could see the source of the fire and the heat signatures of those around us, but that was it. The smoke made it hard to see anything else, and the roaring of the fire around us made it hard to hear.
Not many people realized just how loud it was inside a burning building, or how the fire seemed to actually growl – as if it had a life and voice of its own.
You usually have to shout to be heard.
In addition to everything else, we heard the sharp crack of wood as ceiling beams gave out above us. The flames crackled as they grew larger, spreading through the building, eating everything in their path.
You couldn't see a foot in front of your damn face, thanks to the dark, billowing smoke. There was a faint, orange glow in the distance that served as our guiding light. Austin and Luke carried the hose, with Austin primarily leading the way. He was the Captain and the man in charge – and only the big man in charge gets to handle the nozzle. Luke was second in command of our unit. He was Austin's right hand man and was always by his side.
Wes walked ahead of me, and I could only see his heat signature as he moved through the warehouse. Both of us knew what we were doing, what we were looking for. He and I were a team; we worked together often. Austin and Luke were always side-by-side, while Wes and I worked together as one. We didn't even have to speak most of the time, we just knew what to do while together. It was another reason Owen had a harder time fitting in. We were all paired up, a group of people who'd worked together so long, the newbie was the odd man out most of the time. It would take time, but he'd get there.
“Fire looks to be contained to the first floor so far,” Wes's voice sounded tinny, as it came in through my ear phones “Should be an easy one to knock down.”
He was most likely right. We’d seen many uglier fires than this one.
Austin had said something to Wes, as he and Luke moved toward the fire. I was distracted by a sound behind me. It sounded like someone was crying. I was closest to the sound, and instantly, I turned and looked for a heat signature. In the distance, I saw it. There was someone else in here with us. Dammit.
“There's someone by the entrance. On the floor, from the looks of it,” I said. I was already headed in that direction.
“There's not supposed to be anyone here, the building is abandoned,” Luke said.
“Sarah, will you check it out?” Austin asked.
“Already on it, chief,” I said.
Unable to see an inch in front of my face, I moved forward toward the heat signature, running my hands along the crumbling wall. All I felt through the thick fire-retardant gloves I was wearing was the sweat on my palms that matched the sweat rolling down my body, and the unrelenting heat around us. I felt like the heat was melting my suit to my skin.
A loud whooshing sound reverberated through the warehouse, and the smoke started to shift from black to gray – they were getting the fire knocked down quickly – though, it was still thick enough that I couldn't see clearly.
A powerful stream of water shot out of the hose, and I heard the sound of the drops hitting my suit as I moved. Luke and Austin couldn't have been too far away from where I was – which meant, that the fire probably wasn't either. I was still feeling my way along the wall, shuffling my feet to avoid tripping. Walking in blindly to a building like this, you never knew what you might run into - literally. My focus was on the person - or maybe even an animal, it could be hard to tell. Nothing else mattered in that moment but getting them out of here. I didn't know where I was in relation to the others anymore. All of the sudden though, there was nothing but silence filling the air inside the warehouse. It was like somebody had hit a cosmic mute button and dropped the world around us into a pure vacuum of noise. The only thing I could hear was the oxygen tank breathing life into my lungs. There was also no sobbing, no more cries. My heart raced.
Silence always comes after the fire is extinguished. It was a good thing. It was what we wanted to hear. Still, I was sure that there was someone in the building that needed my help. And I had to find them. If they’d taken in too many lungfuls of smoke, I had only a few minutes to get them out and into medical care before they suffocated.
The smoke also got thicker as the fire went out, blocking out the heat signature in my device, making it harder to see the person that needed help.
My heart raced as I continued making my way through the warehouse, hoping to quickly find the person who'd been making the sound.
“Hello?” I called out, hoping for some type of answer. “Fire department, call out. Do you need help?”
A cry caught my attention. I strained my ears and tried to follow in the direction it was coming from. It was still faint but was definitely there.
“Keep talking to me,” I said. “Keep making noise so I can find you. It's alright, the fire is out now. You're safe. We're going to get you out of here.”
The fire may have been out, but the thick clouds of smoke were still toxic and dangerous.
“Stay close to the ground,” I urged. “Try to cover your mouth and nose with your shirt as best as you can.”
I scanned the room. Thick layers of smoke saturating the air was all I could see, at first. Then I hit something, a corner. I pushed myself around the corner and looked down at the thermal imaging device in my hand. It cut through the smoke and allowed me to see the heat signature again, in the shape of a person close to the ground.
I continued shuffling along, unable to see the path forward on the ground clearly, until I got close to the person. When I got to them, I hung the imager on my belt, quickly knelt down, and reached out. Even without any sense of touch, I got an idea of the size of the person. It was a kid. Just a kid. Jesus. How did a child get in here? The place had been locked up tight before we'd arrived – which made me wonder if the kid was responsible for the fire in the first place.
“Come with me,” I said, keeping my voice calm.
The child was heavy. He was maybe about twelve or so, give or take a year.
The child was no longer crying. In fact, no sound came from him at all.
“Did you find him?” Wes's voice almost caused me to jump out of my skin.
“Yes,” I said
. “I'm carrying him out now, he's a big kid. Please have EMTs ready when we step outside.”
“I'm right behind you,” a voice said in the earphones.
A chill ran down my spine. It was Owen's voice, but Owen should have been outside, the stupid, stubborn little shit. It wasn't the time to argue or dress him down though.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked, not letting him get off completely scot-free. Owen took the kid from my arms and he moved quickly toward the door.
“Who is it?” Austin asked over the radio.
“It's me,” Owen said before I could tell on him, or cover for him. “I've got the kid. We're heading out now, Sarah is with me.”
When the sunshine hit us again, I took off my mask, and took a deep breath of the fresh air. With my mask in one hand, I rushed toward Owen and the boy. Owen was removing his mask by the time I got there, and as I stood beside them, I heard Wes coming up behind me. Austin and Luke stayed inside the warehouse, putting out hotspots, and making sure everything was clear in there. Owen was lucky, for now. I had a feeling that luck wasn't going to hold forever though.
I dropped to my knees on the ground beside the boy, ready to start CPR. He coughed though, his voice dry and brittle, and stared up at me with wide eyes. He was frightened, but otherwise he looked fine. It was surprising, and he was incredibly lucky. He probably didn't even know how lucky to be alive he actually was.
An ambulance pulled up, and the EMT's rushed over as Owen was checking the boy out. I stared down at him, my heart still not beating properly. It was the same boy I'd seen before – the one Austin had sent back to the sidewalk before we'd gone in. He hadn't been in the building when we got there, I knew he hadn't. He'd obviously slipped in somehow after we'd sent him back to safety.
I shook my head, irritated, but not at the kid. I turned my attention to Owen.
“Owen,” I said, keeping my voice soft so only he could hear, “what the fuck were you doing in there? You were told to stay back.”
He didn't answer me, keeping himself focused on the little boy instead.
“You're fine, right champ?” he asked softly.
“Yes,” the boy said, sitting up. There was soot in his hair, which Owen wiped off to the best of his ability. “Can I go home now?”
“These EMTs are going to check you out first, alright, little man?” Owen said. “They just want to be sure before they send you home.”
Wes towered over us, and I looked up at the behemoth of a man. He was easily the tallest man I'd ever seen in my life, standing damn near six foot six. With broad shoulders and a near constant tan, he seemed half California surfer boy, and half Incredible Hulk. With his face mask off, you could see the boyish good looks mixed with the chiseled features that had once helped him pay the bills when he worked as a model, something Wes didn't talk about too much. His green eyes flickered to me, but then returned back to Owen and the kid.
A male and a female EMT hustled over to us, relieving Owen from duty. It wasn't my job to scold Owen for disobeying orders and leaving his spot. Or, for failing to make sure no one entered the premises – that would be Austin's job. Still, I couldn't hold back my contempt for long, and neither could Wes. If there was one basic tenet to this job, it was that you followed orders. If you didn't, people got hurt. And Owen had blatantly violated that rule.
Wes tossed his helmet down to the ground, his shaggy, dark blonde hair spilling over his eyes. He kept his silky dishwater hair shaved short on the sides and back, but longer on top. Long enough to run your fingers through if you wanted to. I averted my eyes and tried not to think about how long I’d wanted to.
Owen stood up, and judging by the sheepish look on his face, he knew he'd fucked up. Without another word, he walked away from us with his head down, moving back to the sidewalk where he'd been told to position himself. There were only a few officers on the scene – not surprising, given that it wasn't a major fire – but none of the cops there had thought to relieve him of his crowd control duties. He'd simply acted on his own.
Unless he had a perfectly solid explanation though, he was going to get a fucking earful once Austin got hold of him.
I started toward him, my hands balled up at my sides, feeling the rage building up inside of me over his blatant disregard of his orders. He could have gotten any one of us killed. He could have gotten that boy killed. I was pissed, and I was right to be so. Wes grabbed my shoulder, stopping me before I could get started though.
“Austin will handle it,” he said.
“I know, but – fuck, Wes,” I said. “He screwed up. Huge.”
“I know it. You know it. Hell, judging by the look on his face, Owen knows it too,” Wes said, his voice low. “No need to get in the middle of it and have the shit rain down on you too. Austin will handle it. That's his job. Not yours.”
He was right. I knew he was right. Yet, I wanted answers from Owen, and I wanted them right away. Plus, I kind of wanted to throttle Owen for being a selfish prick. A kid could have been seriously hurt or killed because of his carelessness. Any one of us – his team – could have suffered the same fate. Owen was a liability.
Owen stood there, at the sidewalk, a look of anger blended with anguish on his face, his head hanging low. He was over six feet tall but wasn't nearly as big as Wes. He was lean muscle, for the most part. His blonde hair was lighter than Wes's, a more unnatural, out-of-the-bottle looking color, even though it was as natural as they come. With his beautiful blue eyes and light blonde hair, Owen was your typical All-American, apple pie looking boy. He looked a little too pretty to be out there with us in the dirt, grit, and grime – and at times like these, I wondered if perhaps he thought he was too.
“He's so used to getting everything just handed to him,” Wes said under his breath.
“Tell me about it. Rich kid with the CEO daddy,” I spat. “He could have any fucking job in the world, and he chooses this one.”
“He wants to be a hero,” Wes said. “Wants to hear people to praise him and tell him how amazing he is.”
“You don't really get working for daddy, huh?”
“Nope. But I think he's starting to realize it's harder than it looks on TV. I think he may be understanding that the job isn't just rushing into burning buildings and saving the day,” Wes said. “Sometimes, you have to do shitty, boring jobs like crowd control, or washing the damn truck. We all had to do it coming up. Time he learns his place in the pecking order.”
I chuckled and shot Wes a look. We both remembered the time Austin had told Owen to wash the truck. Owen threw the tantrum to end all tantrums – and that was the first moment I had my doubts about Owen making it out here. The job was tough, and if you couldn't handle taking orders, thinking of the team before yourself – and yeah, doing the shit work when needed – well, you put lives at risk. Like he had today.
“Fire's out, building secure. Looks like an electrical fire. This place is full of old, out-of-date wiring.” Luke's voice made us both turn and look at the two men who were walking up behind us, pulling their masks and helmets off.
Austin might not have been as large as Wes, but he was still imposing as hell. He stood several inches over six feet tall and weighed about two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle. Luke, his right-hand man, was a bit smaller, but was still just as strong. Even though I held my own, and was never a liability in the field, sometimes it felt like I was the weak link on the team. The guys I worked with never let me feel that way, though. They knew I was tough and worked my ass off, and they respected me for it. We were a good team and we trusted one another with our lives.
Austin didn't say a word, but as he pulled off his mask, you could see it in his golden eyes. The fire might be out in the warehouse, but there was a larger one burning inside of him. He'd heard the commotion over the radios, he saw the kid being cleaned up by the EMTs. He put things together without any of us saying a word, and he looked more pissed than I think I'd ever seen him before.
Luke joined Wes and me – all of us keeping our distance from Owen like he was patient zero in a plague outbreak.. Or maybe, a better description was that Owen was the bomb, and we were just trying to stay out of the blast range. When Austin was angry – which didn't happen often, and only when someone truly deserved it – you didn't want to get in the way.
Austin managed to keep his cool, for the moment. We finished up what we needed to do before we packed all of our gear up, climbed back into the rig, and headed out. The whole time though, Austin hadn't said a word to Owen. Not one single word. Which told me that things were going to be bad when we got back to the station.
“They've been in there a while,” Wes said.
We all sat at the table in the common room, having something to eat and playing cards together. Wes' shaggy blonde hair was wet and sticking up in a spiky faux hawk that he liked to joke around with around the station. In the corner was a Christmas tree, all decked out with red and green lights. The fresh pine scent was one of my favorites this time of year. Here in San Diego, without lights and trees, it doesn't feel much like Christmas. Sunny weather year round might be nice, but it didn't lend itself to the feeling of Christmas most of the time.
Then again, neither did the arguing going on in Austin's office.
We could hear bits and pieces of the argument going on behind the door. Austin and Owen were locked in there, having a discussion – a rather heated discussion by the sound of it. All we could really hear was Austin's booming voice coming through the door of the office every now and then. We couldn't hear everything he was saying, but the few words we could make out, didn't seem to bode particularly well for Owen.
“He fucked up,” I said, picking up the cards in front of me and trying my best to not scowl at the bad hand.
“Yeah, but we all fuck up when we're new,” Wes said, shrugging his shoulders. “It's all part of the learning curve. We've all been there.”