by Amie Denman
Her breath quickened as Tony applied the last piece of tape, completely blotting out her view. Her battle was entirely hers to fight. She counted to slow her breathing. Two seconds in, three seconds out. The tube hanging from her mask wasn’t hooked to the heavy air pack on her back yet, but when she faced her obstacle in a minute, it would be. If she hyperventilated, the air pack wouldn’t last long enough for her to do what she had to do.
On the way to the state fire academy that morning, Tony had given her, Diane and Skip a ride, while the others carpooled with Kevin and Tyler. Tony had shared some tips about surviving the maze. It was a notorious proving ground for firefighters, and many people didn’t conquer it on the first try.
She’d volunteered to go first for the maze while her classmates completed the other drills and exercises that constituted a final test for joining the fire service. They didn’t have to get a 100 percent on any of the activities, but they were each aiming for a combined score of seventy points earned through the maze, a hose carry, a ladder test, hands-on CPR and a pump-operating test.
As Tony helped her suit up for the maze, Laura regretted choosing to tackle the hardest thing first. What if she failed and it killed her confidence for the entire day?
“Laura?” Tony asked. His voice was muffled. He patted her shoulders but she barely felt it through her heavy coat and the panic she was trying to force away with slow counting. “You can do this,” he repeated, his voice sounding as if it was coming through water. “Nod if you’re okay.”
Laura bobbed her head up and down, feeling the weight of her fire helmet. She heard someone say I believe in you, and she didn’t know if it was Tony or a voice in her own head. She felt Tony turn her by the shoulders and nudge her toward the entrance of the maze. No one in her volunteer class had seen inside the two-story maze, but they had all heard stories about it from other firefighters.
Staircases that were missing steps. Floors with holes large enough to fall through. Blocked doorways. Heavy obstacles. The two-hundred-pound dummy representing a victim waiting for rescue. Worst of all, complete darkness and senses muffled by heavy gear.
Someone hooked the hose from her mask to her air tank and she felt the subtle change as she drew life-saving air from the tank. Two loud taps on her tank told her it was time to go. She clutched a firehose in her left hand, dropped to her knees and put her right hand on the door frame. Right-hand search pattern, just as she had read about and practiced at the Cape Pursuit fire station. The lights had been on and the territory was familiar during the practice. This was entirely different, but she had to give it everything she had. If she could move quickly enough and not be overwhelmed by time, doubt, panic, fatigue or dangerous obstacles, she would eventually find the waiting dummy.
Then, she thought grimly, all she had to do was haul the dummy back out of the simulated house fire. They had practiced moving and carrying people in her training. In an awkward night of physical training, each of the volunteers had practiced picking up one of the others in a classic “fireman’s carry.” They all knew there was the possibility that they would have to use that knowledge someday and under the worst potential circumstances. The dummy waiting in the maze would outweigh her by sixty pounds, but Laura had training and determination on her side.
“Go, go, go.” She didn’t know who was yelling, but she was already moving as fast as she thought she could. Maybe she could go faster. It was hard. The heavy coat, boots, pants, gloves. The helmet like a cement block on her head. The air pack straining at her shoulders. And always, the breathing she had to control despite the exertion. If she breathed too fast and used up too much air, she would have to give up. Would fail. Control. It was something she had been groping for every day of the past two years.
Right hand on the wall, she searched the first room, sweeping out as far as she could with her left hand without losing her anchor hold on the wall. If she lost her bearings, how would she find them in the dark? There was nothing in the room except what felt like a couch. No dummy lying on the couch or curled beneath it. She went through a doorway and found herself in what she thought was a closet and then realized was a long hallway. She began to crawl. Her left knee dipped and she felt as if she were falling for a moment until she quickly lurched to her right to avoid the hole in the floor. She steadied her breathing, not willing to let the near-disaster derail her.
Searing heat met her at the end of the hallway and she had to turn. Tony had warned them there would be an industrial space heater simulating fire somewhere in the maze and they would have to make a difficult decision. She thought of Tony, waiting outside the maze, probably watching the clock. What was he thinking? Did he believe she could do it?
Which way? Reaching ahead of her, she counted, One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand. Had her brother’s last moments been like this? Heat, darkness, panic that threatened to steal all your training and rob you of the power to think your way out?
No amount of thinking would have saved Adam. She knew that from the grim report delivered to her parents. No way out, there was nothing different he could have done. That two other men in his group had survived was a miracle, plain and simple.
Laura sat back, her boots digging into the backs of her thighs. Without thinking, her gloved hands batted uselessly against her mask. There was nothing she could do about the tears that fell as she thought of her little brother. She felt the moisture pooling at the bottom of her mask, and it didn’t matter if the tears blinded her. There was nothing she could see with her mask covered in dark tape.
For a moment she considered ripping the mask away. What was she doing? Why the hell did she think she could face the thing that had killed her brother and nearly destroyed her family? One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand.
Someone tapped on her air tank. Was that yelling?
Laura lurched forward. She was wasting time. If she didn’t keep going and find the victim, he would die. He would die. Only she could find him. What if it was someone’s father? Brother. Sister. Child.
She closed her eyes, useless as they were, put a hand on the wall, and started half crawling, half stumbling forward. She would find what she was looking for. She saw Adam’s blond hair shining in the sunlight of a summer afternoon. Saw his smile. Heard his laughter mixed with the loud music he used to play in his bedroom right down the hallway from hers.
She forced herself down that hall, found a doorway, rushed through it and came across an obstacle. Hands flailing in front of her, she realized with a burst of joy that it was what she was looking for. The victim. The person she had to save. She fumbled to get the rescue strap from her pocket, looped it blindly around the dummy she found on the floor, and started moving backward toward the entrance.
Could she find where she had come in? She reviewed her pattern. How many rights had she taken? How many rooms? How far? As she passed by the heat source set up to simulate fire, she remembered. The maze laid itself out in her mind. She thought of Adam, imagined herself saving him despite the heavy weight, the burden. She left her fire hose behind, needing both hands to move the two-hundred-pound dummy.
She stumbled through a doorway and groped for a wall. Oh, no. There was no wall. Was she lost in the center of the maze with nothing to help her find a direction? She couldn’t be. She couldn’t let the victim die.
“Laura,” a voice yelled next to her ear, but she couldn’t process the sound. Who was yelling? Why was there someone else with her in the maze? “Laura, you did it!”
She was on her knees, unwilling to let go of the heavy weight she’d carried out of the maze. Bright light blinded her as someone ripped away a piece of tape from her mask. Was it really over?
Tony’s smiling face appeared in front of her as another strip of tape was pulled away. Someone helped her to her feet and removed her helmet. She groped at the straps that held her face mask in place and pulled it off, tearin
g a few strands of hair with it.
“Are you okay?” Tony asked. He was the only person standing close enough to her to see the tearstains on her face and fresh tears in her eyes. Different tears. The first ones had been frustration, fear, loss and pain.
And then something had happened. She had found what she’d been looking for. Laura hadn’t even realized she was crying tears of joy and triumph as she dragged that two-hundred-pound dummy through the maze to freedom. Survival.
She took a huge gulp of air. It was like breathing for the first time in a long time, like that first wonderful gasp when a swimmer comes up from the depths and breaks the surface.
“I’m okay,” she said. She scrubbed the tears away. “Better than okay. I did it.”
“You did it,” he said. He put both hands on her shoulders and Laura thought he was going to put his arms around her, pull her into a tight hug. She took a huge step backward. If he hugged her at that moment after the emotional catharsis and physical exertion she’d just been through, she knew she would come apart.
In going through the maze, she had proven that she was capable of keeping herself together, and nothing was going to get in her way now.
* * *
“TO US,” DIANE SAID. “Especially you guys who got out of the maze wearing both boots.”
Marshall clinked his beer glass against Diane’s. “There’s no law that says you have to finish with both boots. And you got that dummy out same as the rest of us.”
“I believe your time was two seconds shorter than my brother’s,” Oliver said, elbowing Richard in the ribs.
Tony grinned at his cousin Kevin across the table at the Cape Pursuit Bar and Grill. He remembered plenty of similar conversations from his own experience and from spending time with new department members. Good-humored teasing went a long way toward building friendships and teamwork, and there were times it was the only way to blow off steam after an ugly call.
“I think Tony lost his helmet once,” Kevin said.
“Not in the maze,” Tony said, shaking his head. He could feel Laura’s eyes on him. Since he was the chief, it was his job to be good at what he did but stay humble. “But I did lose it in the hose race. I think it was the duck and roll that did me in.” He laughed. “It’s hard to keep your helmet on when you’re trying to beat your cousin by diving toward the finish line like you’re coming into home plate.”
To celebrate the fact that all eight volunteers had passed, the group had agreed to meet for dinner and drinks after they’d all had a chance to go home and shower. No one wore a uniform, not even Tony, Kevin and Gavin. They were off duty and spending time as friends with the department’s newest members.
Allen had shown up wearing a T-shirt with the logo of the factory where he worked as a machinist. He hadn’t said much, but Tony had seen him smile at least twice. Maybe it was the excellent plates of fried mozzarella sticks, onion rings and potato skins that the waitress had just delivered. Most people around the table were partway through their first drink, but Tony noticed Allen’s cup was untouched.
Some of Marshall’s cop friends came in and he went over to their table for a few minutes. Tony saw him talking with his hands and laughing, clearly telling a story from his experiences at the state fire academy. His absence at the table left an empty seat next to Laura, and Richard scooted over and sat close to her. Tony felt an instant rush of jealousy. Richard was about Laura’s age, single and a decent guy.
But he was also making short work of his second beer and leaning into Laura. She put a finger on his shoulder and gave him a subtle push back into his chair, which he didn’t seem to mind. Richard turned and talked to his brother on his other side, also leaning much too close.
Tony let his jealousy go. Richard wasn’t being a jerk, but he was a little drunk. His brother appeared to be well on his way to the same condition. Tony pushed his half a beer forward on the table and switched to water, and he noticed his cousin doing the same. They weren’t strangers to having a drink together, but Ethan usually came along and drove them. A ten-year veteran of the department, Ethan was the self-appointed and permanent designated driver after growing up with alcoholic parents.
Tony raised a finger and made eye contact with their waiter who came right over. “I think it would be a good idea to get some dinner orders into the kitchen before too many more drinks,” he said quietly. The waiter nodded and pulled out a notepad.
He listened to the dinner conversation over the next hour as food came and plates were cleared away. Everyone talked at once, and there was a clear bond among the group at the table. It seemed stronger than usual for volunteer classes. Tony suspected Laura was a reason for that bond, having seen her encouraging everyone. Her study session and insistence on the newspaper article including everyone were also clear evidence that she was in this not for herself alone.
Strangely, she was the quietest person at the table. Serious, even, but not in a sad way. When she had emerged from the maze with the two-hundred-pound dummy in tow, Tony had felt relief greater than he’d ever experienced. He hadn’t doubted her ability, but the success rate for the maze for first attempts was far from 100 percent. She wouldn’t have been the first one to have to give it another shot, but it would have killed Tony to see her fail.
He wanted to protect her from hardship, failure and anything else that might knock her down. He loved that she was self-assured. As he gazed at her across the table, he realized he loved her.
She raised her eyes to his just as the thought crossed his mind, and Tony was afraid his face betrayed the shocking emotion that rolled through him.
It wasn’t just that he wanted to help her save herself—something she didn’t appear to need his assistance with—the truth was he loved and cared for her in a way that was nothing like his feelings for his other fellow firefighters.
When everyone had finished eating and the conversation wound down, Tony overheard Laura offering rides home to Richard and Oliver. Marshall had already left because he had an early shift at the police department the next morning. Eighteen-year-old Skip hadn’t been drinking, Diane’s husband had dropped her off and picked her up, and Brock had stuck with soda all night.
“You okay to drive?” Tony asked Allen.
“Did you see me drinking?” Allen growled.
“Just half a one.”
“There’s your answer.”
Tony smiled. “You did a great job today, and you’ll be a real asset to the department.” He went out on a limb and added, “Your family must be really proud of you.”
Allen snorted. “You don’t know my family.” He cocked his head. “Or maybe you do. My old man got drunk and burned our house down about ten or twelve years ago. Right down to the ground. It was the farmhouse on county road fifteen just south of town.”
Tony drew in a slow breath. “I remember that fire. It was one of my first official runs when I joined the department.” He vividly remembered the drunk and disorderly home owner, a traumatized wife and kids, and the arson investigation afterward.
“He’s out of jail now, but he’s still a jerk. On my worst day, I’m better than that.”
Tony didn’t know what to say, but it made everything he’d observed about Allen make sense. Did Laura know about Allen’s family?
“Keys,” she was saying to Richard and Oliver.
She held out a hand to each of them, but only Oliver handed over keys. “We drove together. Live just down the street from each other.”
“Then it will be easy to drop you off,” Laura said.
“I need my car in the morning.”
Laura looked over at Tony, her eyebrows raised in a question.
“We can make this work,” Tony said.
He loaded Richard and Oliver into his truck, and Laura followed with Richard’s car. Luckily, Tony knew the streets of Cape Pursuit well enough to follow the slightly s
oggy directions from the drunken but cheerful brothers. They had wanted to ride with Laura, but Tony shoved them both toward his truck instead. He glanced in the mirror every ten seconds to make sure Laura was behind him.
After dropping off both brothers and their car, Laura got in Tony’s truck for a ride back to the bar.
“That was fun,” she said. “What did they talk about on their way home?”
“They compared their performances at the academy today. I have the impression they’ve been competing for a long time.”
“Sibling rivalry,” Laura commented.
“You and Nicole don’t seem to have a rivalry,” Tony said.
He heard her sigh. “No, but we do seem to have a lack of communication this summer.” She paused. “No, not communication, just understanding. We both had ways of dealing with Adam’s loss. Hers was to throw herself into a different life. New place, new job, new love. It worked for her, and that’s great.”
“But?”
“But I chose reaching outside myself in a different way.” She laughed. “I tried volunteering for everything I could at my high school over the winter, and it helped a little, but this summer I think I’ve found my true calling.”
Tony swallowed. If firefighting was Laura’s true calling, he was happy for her, but it left no place for him in her life. A relationship between them, with his being the fire chief, was as impossible as blowing out a house fire as if it were a birthday candle.
“Sadly, it’s the worst calling in the world, according to my sister.”
“But she’s marrying Kevin.”
“Kevin isn’t her sister. And you remember last summer how long it took her to reconcile herself to the fact that she loved a firefighter.”