by Kendall Duke
From
The
Flames
From the Flames
By
Kendall Duke
Published by JT Publishing
Copyright © 2019 by Kendall Duke
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the copyright holder.
Printed in the USA by JT Publishing
All material is intended for adult purchase and purview.
Mike
“Listen, Tony,” I said, slapping my best friend’s back, “the day I listen to your advice is the day I start eating Raisin Bran for dinner and watching Murder She Wrote so I can fall asleep at seven o’clock at night.” He shrugged me off and rolled his eyes, going back to cleaning his gear without missing a beat. “I’m not an old man like you. I want to go out drinking tonight, and I don’t give two shits if that means I’m slightly hung-over at the meeting tomorrow.”
“Slightly hung-over?” He gave me a sardonic look over his shoulder, but now it was my turn to shrug.
“Slightly hung-over… Still slightly drunk, whatever, you catch my drift. The meetings don’t have dick to do with our job. They have to do with paperwork. Which I suck at anyway.”
“You should not go out and get drunk tonight,” Tony said again, but he didn’t bother meeting my eyes this time, knowing it was useless. He kept his attention on his boots, then went back and adjusted the caps on his suit, making sure everything was in working order. Tony was meticulous, and although he was only four years older than me he acted like one of the old-timers. His wife, Priscilla, was a good reason to keep it together, though. I admired their relationship, even if I wasn’t in the market for one myself.
Well. I was in the market for one if it lasted exactly six hours, enough time for me to fuck her into a trance, pay the tab on our bar bill, and discreetly disappear. No promises, no disappointments. But that was not a ‘relationship,’ at least according to Tony.
He didn’t approve of a lot of my choices.
Too bad.
“My favorite band is playing,” I said for the fourth time, and I watched him shake his head at the collar ring that stubbornly refused to refit, no matter what he tried. “Give it here,” I said, and he handed it over, knowing I could do just about anything that had to do with our job as effortlessly as he seemed to live a perfectly normal life. Life, I was no good at—but fighting fires? I was the best. Top notch. And sure enough I slid the brackets back in place, knowing he would be safe the next time he suited up.
“Thanks,” Tony said, giving me a quick grin before straightening up and getting serious again. “Dude, it’s a fucking Tuesday night. You don’t need to go get wasted—”
“You don’t,” I corrected. “You have a beautiful wife that you adore and a baby on the way. I, on the other hand, have the libido of a high school quarter-back—which I was, you may remember, thankyouverymuch—and Marco actually owes me like, five drinks, so by my math that’s…” I pretended to do the imaginary calculation in my head while he just shook his head at me again. “One plus five plus… Yeah. All that shit equals a hell of a good time.”
“The meeting is about compliance,” he said, his eyes grave. “That directly affects our job. And your dad—”
“My dad knows me,” I said, waving him off. I didn’t want to talk about my dad. My arrogant, over-the-top smart-ass act only worked if I could ignore that whole subject. I liked laughing at myself, at all of the old stereotypes falling short—the Chief’s son, the high school star, now some kind of a washed up bar-fly—until it came to my father’s feelings. I disappointed him when I failed my first semester at college. I’d just wanted to join the Unit; I hadn’t even wanted to go to school, but I was afraid to let him down. And sure enough, I partied too hard, just like I always did, and when I arrived back in town he gave me the job but basically stopped speaking to me. We were at a stale-mate, I guess. I was good at the job—the best, really, no bragging necessary—but I wasn’t the son he wanted. And that sucked. “Listen,” I said, considering my friend as I picked up my bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow. I won’t miss the meeting,” I told him, winking, “but I’d be lying if I said was going to be on time.”
“Mike—” Tony started in again, but I lifted my palm, and he rolled his eyes for the millionth time. His phone beeped, and he reached down. “Well, make sure you get a cab or something.”
“I never drive drunk,” I told him. He knew that, but he always felt the need to say it because he couldn’t say what he really meant: I wish you wouldn’t drink so much, Mike.
The one time he had was the one real fight we had.
“Mike,” he said, his voice suddenly harsh.
“I told you,” I said, and now it was my turn to roll my eyes. “I don’t—”
“Mike! The baby!” Tony’s eyes were wide. “Silla’s in labor!”
“Holy shit,” I said, dropping my bag instantly. “Is she okay?”
Tony was fumbling with his gear, but I grabbed it from him and started hustling him out the door, finding his car keys while he tried to text her back, his hands shaking. “She’s early—we’re not due for at least another month, oh man—”
“Listen, I’m sure everything is fine,” I told him, not at all sure that it was; I don’t know shit about babies, or pregnant ladies, or anything beyond what I’d already learned from him. “Just go, dude, and hey—congratulations?” I smiled at him, big and wide, like he’d won the lottery. “Keep me in the loop, okay?”
“Oh Jesus,” he said, his eyes still the size of saucers. He started running towards his car and then froze, spinning on his heel. “Damn, Mike, I—”
“I got it,” I told him, still smiling. “This is a good thing, man! Go! Just text me so I know whether you choose my first or middle name for the baby.”
“Alright,” Tony said, smiling at me for a second before sprinting, full-bore, to his car.
“Valentino would be a great name!” This was a running joke between us; I hope it cheered him up. I could still see the worry in the set of his shoulders, and a second later he peeled out of the parking lot. I waved after him, then slowly turned around and headed back in to the station. I looked at the pile of gear still spread out all over the floor and my over-night bag full of dirty laundry and sighed.
Well, as he’d said, at least it was a Tuesday night. Chances were good it would be nice and quiet. I started to put everything away and wondered what I had left to watch on my Netflix cue.
~~~
Darcy
I knew he wouldn’t find me here.
I was in the gutter end of town, the worst possible place to live—dogs snarled in the dark outside of the house, and as I sat by my window, looking down on the street below, I saw three junkies cluster on the front porch of the crack house across the street. This was not a good place to live. But still… It was better than where I’d been.
My ex, Andre, had been so sweet the first two months of my first semester at college, my first time away from home. He’d been everything a girl like me could’ve wanted: popular, handsome, a favorite with all the professors and even a coach for his church’s softball team. We started dating in August, the first day I arrived, but things got really intense really fast; I thought it was romantic. What an idiot. He bought me chocolate and flowers, said the sweetest things; I was living my best life, and looking forward to graduating next to him, four years from now.
But then I told him I wanted to finish going to college, not just be somebody’s wife.
I wanted a career.
I
didn’t just want to be a stay-at-home wife and mother—although I wanted a family and a partner. I wanted a loving, happy home, like the one I grew up in; albeit, I thought it would be pretty cool to have a dad that stuck around, like the father figure I never had. The one I imagined Andre would be for his kids. It was a simple conversation, and it wasn’t really relevant, to my mind—I mean, we’d just started school, right? Wasn’t that why we were here? And we’d only been dating for two months. Wasn’t this a little heavy?
And then things changed.
Andre wasn’t nice any more. He waited until we were alone to say the cruelest things to me… How nobody else would want someone like me, and wasn’t it obvious how much better he was than me, and I should be grateful… I was going to marry him, right after graduation, maybe before. No negotiations. In his church, by his pastor. And then I would live by his rules.
I broke up with him, like any sane person would.
But I couldn’t avoid him, these last three weeks at school—and even at home, as it turned out. He started terrible rumors about me, that I was a slut and a liar and not to believe anything I said. He started calling my phone and texting me at all hours of the night, telling me that if I didn’t change my mind, he’d have to change it for me. By force, if necessary. I wasn’t going to college now, he warned me—he’d already called and reported me for cheating during my tests. I was going to be expelled. And I wasn’t welcome anywhere in town; everyone knew I was a whore.
But he would fix all that, if I would just do what he told me.
If I would just give up what I wanted, and be his.
He didn’t even want kids, he told me; he got enough of that at church. He didn’t even like sex that much—Andre was up front about not being a virgin, but I thought we were just taking it slow. No, Andre liked control. That’s what I figured out. And although his take-charge attitude was kind of sexy at first, that was completely ruined when he sabotaged my life just to make me his slave. You can’t embarrass me, he’d said. I’ll make your life hell. And then that’s what he did.
I told my mom everything was fine and I was going on a road trip with my girlfriends to the coast for the October break, but I didn’t have the money for that—Andre must have stolen my debit card, and all I had was the cashed pay-check from my job at the mall. I didn’t want to get her involved. She’d been trying so hard to take care of my little sisters and brother, and worked full-time too. Andre knew my family’s address and where they lived; I didn’t want to endanger them by going home. So instead I took a sub-lease from this girl at work, and lo and behold, I ended up here.
I could make this work for a month. Maybe two. The rent was really cheap, and by then Andre would have moved on. He sometimes sat in the mall and watched me at work, but I was friends with the security guard that patrolled during my shift—an older guy, in his forties, who didn’t care about rumors on Facebook and had a daughter my age—so I felt safe. He always walked me to my car.
I couldn’t call the police. I couldn’t prove he’d hacked my account, and he hadn’t broken any other laws.
So I was going to wait. It had to end. We only dated for two months!
It just had to.
I kept my phone, trying to ignore the texts and calls, and just let my mom believe I was somewhere in Asheville, that I met up with an old friend and would be busy until break ended. It wasn’t until after Andre and I broke up that I realized how really far away from home I was.
I was alone.
Except for Alice. Alice was my room-mate. She was a very nice person, but it turned out that Alice had some problems that my co-worker probably should have mentioned.
“I’m going out,” she called through the door, and I said good-bye. I heard her lock the front door to the apartment and thump down the stairs, then watched her walk across the street, waving to the folks on the porch as she headed off. Alice knew them because they had the same kind of problems, problems she also didn’t exactly inform me of before I moved in. But at least she didn’t do drugs here… That I knew of.
I shivered and wrapped my hands around my knees.
This was the worst first semester at college anyone could have, I thought… And then I stopped feeling bad for myself. I’d worked really hard to get here—my mom had worked hard too, contributing money and time to allow me to go to school. I felt angry, in fact. I wished I had a better plan to deal with Andre, but the best I could do was save my money and wait for the chance to go to the school offices and set them straight about my academic record. He was probably bluffing. I’d call them on Monday; hopefully they were open even though we were on fall break.
And then I’d just work, and wait.
I wiped a tear away, feeling like such a fool. But then again, he’d fooled everyone—if you asked anybody, they would never have believed he was such a monster. They would never believe the text messages he’d sent me, the cruel things he’d said—and that wasn’t the worst of it. They would never believe he was so incredibly cold blooded.
I hadn’t.
I looked around the room. The house was split into apartments, an ancient Victorian that must have been truly beautiful in its day. Now, it was divided into four two-bedroom flats, and from what I could tell I was the only person that lived here who didn’t smoke crack at least occasionally. My neighbors were all nice though, and I knew Alice would have my back if Andre ever showed up. She was a decent person… With problems.
I didn’t feel like I could judge. I certainly had a big one myself.
All the same, it was hard not to feel alone.
I left most of my things at my mom’s, saying I’d be back home to pack up the rest for college when I got settled in a new place; I hadn’t been able to stay in the nice apartment my mom and I found together, since Andre had the keys and was best friends with the doorman. Mom was too preoccupied to question me much; I was eighteen, after all. My little sisters were probably really enjoying the free access to all of my stuff, and that thought actually cheered me up. We’d pick through it together at the end of the semester. They could keep whatever they wanted; I needed a lot less than I thought to get by. And they were great kids.
That’s why I was here.
So they would all be safe.
Because there was something wrong with Andre. Something cold and calculating about everything that had happened—I felt like if he’d dated any other girl he found out was a virgin and didn’t have a lot of resources, he might’ve done the same thing. He didn’t care about who I was, just who I helped him imagine himself to be.
That’s why he couldn’t tolerate me leaving.
It was too much to think I had a plan of my own, and that I wanted to go to college more than I wanted to be with him. It humiliated him, and that, he would not allow.
I had to be at work in the morning, so I set my alarm on my phone and got ready for bed. I’d eaten some fries in the mall that afternoon and didn’t have much of an appetite. I settled for a glass of milk, then brushed my teeth and washed my face. Just before I closed my eyes I texted my mom and my little sisters to say I loved them, and to tell David, the baby, the same.
Thankfully I dreamed sweet dreams, sinking in to my hopes about college and my escape from Andre’s attention, blissfully leaving the real world behind.
But when I awoke, I woke to a nightmare.
~~~
Mike
The alarm went off like an explosion—ringing so loud there was no way to ignore it. Not that I wanted to; I couldn’t sleep. Tony hadn’t texted me back yet with news about the baby, and I was nervous for him. I’m a pretty tough guy in a lot of ways, but not when it came to my best friend and his family. So I welcomed the alarm—it meant I had something to focus on. People to save, fires to fight. The one thing I knew I could always do, and do well.
I got the team up and coordinated and we were out the door once the details arrived. Some run-down apartment building across the tracks in the worst part of town was lit up like the four
th of July. Luckily there were just vacant lots on two sides, but there was a row of similar buildings next to it, heading in towards downtown—ancient, wooden Victorians that were poorly maintained by the slum lords that owned them. One of the guys joked that a crack-head probably set the fire, but I shut him up; fire’s not funny to me. It can kill people, and no matter what you’ve done in life—with very few exceptions—nobody deserves to die like that. My few failures haunted me, and I wasn’t about to add to the total of casualties I kept in the back of my mind. We headed off, blasting through downtown in record time.
Sure enough, we got there before the blaze spread. Unfortunately, the entire place looked ready to fall down even without the added danger of fire. As we started hooking up our rig to pump water into the building, smoke gushed from the windows on the bottom floor. I knew we had to get in there now or people would die.
I was in my full suit, ready to go, so I just grabbed my axe and ran in. The doors were all paper thin. Luckily the fire wasn’t moving fast, but I knew we had maybe one minute to get everyone out. I sent two of my team to flush the first floor, and three children and their mom were all carried out, coughing like crazy as the smoke swelled around us. I ran up the stairs at top speed as they exited through the entrance, and prayed this wouldn’t be my last call. At the top of the stairs, I sailed through the open door of the apartment above the inferno; everyone was gone. No one there, not even anything I’d be willing to call furniture—just rusted chairs, stained futons spread on the floor, and piles of trash getting ready to combust. But the other apartment was locked.
I listened, trying to hear if there was anyone inside, but the roar was growing louder by the second. I was sweating buckets inside of the heavy suit, my body protected but weighed down. As I fixed my axe over my shoulder I could hear someone shrieking shrilly downstairs, as if they were trying to come in, and sure enough when I glanced over the railing a blonde girl as thin as a stick was screaming and pointing at the door that faced me. That told me loud and clear someone was definitely behind it, either incapacitated or asleep, and far too vulnerable to the flames. I swung my axe, and the thin wood exploded inward just as the fire began spreading along the walls towards us. I knew the floor would give way in seconds, and we’d be thrown in to the inferno below.