Rekindle

by Ashley Suzanne

  Slowly, we make our way toward the direction of the beeping, stopping every few feet to make sure we’re heading in the right direction. Finally, after making our way halfway across the basement, we come across a large pile of debris. I risk a glance up and the giant hole in the ceiling and then the ceiling above that one has my heart racing. This has to be where he is. But how do we get to him?

  “Conrad, call out!” Jones yells, rushing to the pile and haphazardly throwing wood and metal from the side.

  Nick doesn’t respond.

  “What should I do?” I ask, panic setting in. I can save a life, perform CPR, even do an emergency procedure or two, but this? I don’t have the faintest idea of what I can possibly do to help Jones.

  “Grab shit. Move it off. Listen for his alarm to get louder,” he barks, never moving from his task. Stepping next to Jones, I do exactly as he’s doing, but with smaller, more maneuverable pieces. One by one, slowly but surely, we have an idea of where Nick’s located as the alarm bells continue getting louder, just as Jones predicted.

  “Over here!” Jones yells to me, lying on his belly and reaching into a small hole. “He’s in here. Come here,” he demands again.

  Dropping the scrap metal, I rush to his side, careful to not trip on any of the mess we’ve created. Lying on my stomach right next to Jones, I aim my flashlight to where he’s pointing and see Nick’s mangled hand where the end of the light reaches.

  “Oh God,” I cry, reaching my arm inside, only able to graze his fingers, but they respond to mine, curling toward him when I scoot closer to rest my palm on his.

  “He’s alive!” I cry. “How do we get him out?”

  “I’m not sure. Let me try a few things. You just stay here.”

  Jones flies to his feet and within seconds the sounds of metal hitting metal, wood scraping across the floor and wire flinging through the air scare the hell out of me, so I can only imagine how Nick’s feeling. His fingers tighten against mine and I reassuringly squeeze as much as I can.

  “I’m here,” I whisper, but no response from Nick again.

  Boots pounding on the cement floor jar me from my private moment with Nick. Angling my head, I can slightly make out at least six more feet. More metal grinding on metal. Then, I can move closer. The hole I’m slightly inside of widens and I can nearly fit my entire body inside.

  They’ve cleared a path.

  “Watch out, Mitchell. We’re gonna get him out,” one of the guys, I’m not sure which one, assures me, pulling me away from Nick. His fingers try to curl around mine, but I pull my arm back.

  “They’re getting you out. Hold on for me, please. I love you,” I yell as I’m picked up by the waist and pulled away from the pile.

  Sitting, my legs tucked under me and my knees feeling the pain of resting against the cement, I wring my hands together, praying they get to him in time. Tears leak from my eyes, no matter how hard I try to hold them back. My heart races faster than it’s ever beat before. They need to hurry. He won’t be able to hold on much longer. I’m not sure how I know that, but I do. In my gut, I know.

  “On three,” Jones says, and all the guys surround the area where they can get to Nick.

  “One. Two. Three. Pull.” Each man grunts, a different octave for each voice, and strains to pull Nick to safety. Hours pass, maybe they’re only seconds, but they feel like forever, but the alarm bells get louder and louder until it feels like they’re right in front of me.

  They are.

  Nick’s out.

  His broken body lies just before me. Jones tosses me the emergency bag I brought down with me and like second nature, I get to work, putting aside that the man lying in front of me is one I care so deeply for. I forget that once upon a time he was my husband. And possibly still my happily ever after. Never mind the fact that as soon as I save his life, I’m going to kill him for putting me through this hell.

  Never love a firefighter. They can only break your heart. But if you happen to fall for one, get ready for the most intense ride of your life. Not only are you terrified when they leave for work each day, they bring a deeper meaning to ‘live like you’re dying.’ There won’t be a second that passes that you don’t know in the eyes of the firefighter who loves you, the moon rises and sets for you and you alone. A firefighter will love you like there’s no tomorrow, and that’s the only way I want to be loved.

  “Nick. It’s me. I’m here. Stay with me, baby,” I whisper, unzipping his coat and cutting his shirt straight down the middle.

  Just looking over him, I’d be surprised if he didn’t break every bone in his body. Putting the stethoscope in my ears, I listen for a heartbeat. It’s there but faint. But he’s alive.

  “Can we get a backboard down here?” I yell over my shoulder to anyone who’s listening. I briefly hear Jones ask for one, I assume over the radio. A few more pairs of boots make their way to me with a backboard in tow.

  “I need you guys to help me roll him on, but be careful.” I wrap a C-Collar around his neck, kissing his nose when it’s Velcroed in place. Jones, Mack and Richards pull Nick’s body to the side as I slide the backboard underneath him. Once he’s secured in place, the guys waste no time getting him to the stairs and carefully walking him up and out of the building.

  The minute the sun touches my face, I strip off the coat, mask and hat, running in the direction of my ambulance. Frankie is already getting to work on Nick and I’m thankful I didn’t get paired with a rookie. The girl’s new, but at the same time, she doesn’t have the mindset of a probe. She’s advanced and I’m damn glad she’s by my side.

  “I got him, you drive,” I bark, but she doesn’t look offended. Doing exactly as I ask, we load the gurney in the back of the ambo, me climbing in back with Nick and Frankie taking the driver’s seat. Lights and sirens wail as we weave through traffic to the nearest hospital.

  I place the leads on Nick’s chest and turn on the portable machines. Putting a nasal cannula in his nose, I turn up the oxygen and hold his hand, praying nothing goes wrong.

  “I love you so much. Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” I cry, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

  “We’re a fucking ambulance. How about you get the hell out of my way!” Frankie screams, taking a hard turn and probably running over in her head the asshole who didn’t think to get out of the way.

  “Tina,” Nick’s hoarse voice calls.

  “I’m here, baby. Save your strength. You’re in for the hospital trip of a lifetime.” Stroking the inside of his palm with my fingers, his eyes flutter open and close right after.

  “Hurts,” he groans and my heart breaks. Nobody should have to be in this much pain, especially someone I love.

  “I know. It’ll be better soon.” I reach for the morphine we keep locked away, prepared to load a syringe and make him feel a little less for as long as I can.

  “No.” He squeezes my hand as tightly as he can. His eyes open, but don’t close again. I look into them, hiding away any of my own fears and smile so he knows he’s going to be okay. Nick’s lips, ever so slightly, turn upward for a brief moment before his eyes roll backward and the alarm on the machine goes off.

  “No, dammit. No!” I scream, pulling out the portable defibrillator. “You’re going to fucking live. Do you hear me?”

  Placing the pads on his chest, I wait for the machine to indicate a full charge, then I hit the button, sending shocks to his heart, hopefully bringing him back to me. The first round goes off, and no response.

  “Pushing epi,” I call out, knowing the recorder will catch everything I do so it can be put in his chart.

  Setting up the defibrillator again, the electrodes deliver another blast of electricity to his heart, this time the monitor picking up a rhythm.

  “I’m going to kill you, Nick. Don’t do that shit again,” I sigh. Just as I’m about to remove the pads, we pull into the hospital’s ambulance bay. Doctors and nurses open the doors and pull out the gurney.

 
; “He’s not had anything for pain. I pushed 2 of Epi,” I inform the hospital staff on autopilot. I need to take off this damn uniform and just be his wife for a minute.

  Frankie instructs me to go to the waiting room, she’ll take care of all the paperwork, and for that I’m grateful. I’m not sure I could spell my own name right, let alone ensure everything Nick’s going to need is documented. Stripping out of the blue uniform shirt, I toss it in the back of the ambulance and walk to the waiting room wearing only a white undershirt and navy pants.

  Taking the first chair I see, I wait … and wait … and wait even longer. The doctor isn’t the first person I lay eyes on, instead the chief and the rest of the guys make their way over toward me. None of them offer any words, only a quick pat on the back, and take seats surrounding me, flanking me … as if they’re protecting me.

  Doctors in white coats pass by, none of them stopping to inform me or the guys of anything. Frankie reappears a short time later, taking a chair across from me, a tight smile on her face. Another eternity passes before Nick’s doctor finally emerges.

  “Family of Nicholas Conrad?” he asks, noticing an entire waiting room full of Detroit’s finest.

  “Yes,” we all answer in unison and he smiles.

  “Mr. Conrad is going to be fine. We got him stabilized and sent up to surgery. He’s got a rough road ahead of him, but we have every indication he’ll pull through.”

  For the first time since we lost contact with Nick earlier tonight, I breathe a sigh of relief. He’s going to be fine. He’s really going to live.

  I tell all the guys and Frankie to head home for the night. That there’s nothing more for them to do but squeeze and kiss their own families. Reluctantly, they all follow my orders, leaving me in the waiting room on my own. I’m actually happy with the peace and quiet I’m afforded for a short amount of time.

  Six long, grueling hours pass before I’m greeted by another doctor, who I assume to be the surgeon. He informs me Nick made it through surgery wonderfully and as soon as the ICU nurses are done getting him situated, someone will come get me and take me back to see him.

  Taking a slight break, I pull out my phone and text the chief with the news, then run to the bathroom to wash my hands and face. I had no idea how disgusting I look until I see myself in the mirror. Dirt and soot are caked onto my hands and face. The moment I get home, I’m soaking in the bathtub for days, if that’s even possible.

  “Are you here for Nicholas Conrad?” a young woman in scrubs asks the moment I walk out of the bathroom.

  “Yes.”

  “Come with me, please.” I follow her into the elevator, to the fourth floor, and down a few long and winding hallways until we reach Nicks’ room.

  Stepping inside, the low hum of running machines are the first things I hear, and then I see Nick. Resting under a dimmed light, the love of my life’s lying in what looks like a full body cast, every inch of him covered except for the tips of his toes, hands and his face. Everything else is wrapped in a cast or bandages. Taking the chair next to the bed, I put my hand inside his and rest my forehead on the edge of the bed, careful not to make him any more uncomfortable than he already is.

  “I love you so much. I was so worried. I swear I’ll never go another day without letting you know how much you mean to me and how much I care about you. I’ll never make you question anything ever again. You’re it for me. Don’t ever leave me again.” My tears hit the thin mattress and I don’t bother wiping them away. Every ounce of emotion I held back during the course of today’s events pours out of me now that I know for a fact he’s going to be okay … that I’ve seen him with my own eyes.

  “Baby,” Nick’s voice rings in my ears. I angle my head to look him in the eyes and all I see shining back at me is unconditional love. “Don’t cry.” He moves his hand to wipe away the tears, but because of the casts, he’s unable, and he growls.

  “I’m fine. I was just worried,” I say, choking back more emotion that wants nothing more than to fight its way out of my eyeballs.

  “I love you,” he whispers.

  “Not as much as I love you,” I return.

  “Had I known this was all I had to do to make you see the light, I would have done it a while ago,” he jokes through his pain. His crooked, doped up grin melts my heart. Through everything he’s been through, all he cares about is me.

  “Stop it.”

  “I’m serious. Lying underneath all that rubble, praying someone would find me was so much easier than thinking I’d never have another shot with you again. Never again will I allow you to walk away from me, Tina.”

  “Never again will I want to. Now, get some sleep.”

  He smiles briefly and a nurse distracts me as she walks through the door and to Nick’s bedside. Taking his IV in one hand, she cleans one area and inserts a syringe, pushing what I assume to be pain medication through.

  “I’ll see you in my dreams,” Nick whispers before his eyes flutter closed.

  “Ditto.”

  EPILOGUE

  Frankie

  Tina warned me before I ever started the fire academy. “If you think being a woman paramedic in a firehouse is hell, just wait until you’re playing on their team. They’re a good group of guys, the best actually, but it’s gonna take a whole lot for you to prove you’re one of them.” I didn’t heed that warning very well.

  “I passed!” I excitedly yell, running through the open bay door of the firehouse.

  Chief Masterson is the first one, the only one really, who meets me with a quick hug and a pat on the back. “Welcome to 22, probe,” he says in his gruff voice.

  I’m lucky in the sense of I had my chief pulling for me and requesting me assigned to the house where I’ve worked for the past year. Most new firefighters have to wait a few weeks for an assignment.

  “I’ve been a part of 22 for almost a year, Chief,” I joke, walking through the garage into the dining hall. Assuming since I’m low man on the totem pole, dinner will be on my shoulders.

  I never gave much thought to becoming a firefighter. I was more than satisfied with being an EMT, but after watching those men so fearlessly bust their asses to save lives, the dream ignited and never let me go. I immediately enrolled in the academy, and even with everything working against me, I succeeded. All I want to do now was get out there and help as many people as I can.

  I have no preconceived notions about being some kind of hero, especially while I’m in training, but after watching these guys carry victims out of fully engulfed houses and seeing the cards from families who might have lost everything except their lives … I want to know how that feels. I can only imagine it feels like walking on water.

  Stepping behind the counter, I pull some ingredients from the refrigerator and a large pot from the cupboard. “What are you doing, Frankie?” Jones asks, scaring the shit out of me and causing me to nearly drop everything from my arms.

  “Dammit, Tony. Don’t sneak up on me like that. I could have died.” Smiling in his direction, his lips remain tight as he surveys the counter. “I’m making dinner. Figure chili would be good.”

  “That’s a probe’s job,” he stoically states.

  “I passed.”

  “This your house?”

  “Yep,” I respond, grinning ear to ear.

  “Then you should probably start with the bathrooms. Mack’s out back grilling up dinner. Don’t forget to put those cake things in the bottom of the urinals.” Without another word, he turns his back and walks out the side door to where I assume the rest of the guys are.

  Standing in the empty kitchen, I bite back the tears. I’m not really an overly emotional person, but the cool indifference already shown to me makes me worry. I’ve been friends with these guys for a while now and if they’re already being cold to me, what more do I have to look forward to?

  I knew there would be an adjustment period, but I didn’t expect the banter we’d shared while I was an EMT to go away. I figured, above anyt
hing else, they’d be happy to have a probe they already knew … someone they wouldn’t have to question whether or not they had their back. I’d been on the front lines with them. They know my work ethic. They know I put this house above anything else.

  And Jones. Tony and I had been friends long before either of us were firefighters. We’d grown up down the street from one another. Shit, he was my date for prom, way back when.

  Now …

  I’m nothing more to him, or anyone else in this house, than a probe who has to prove herself all over again.

  With Nick finally back to work and Tina getting a new partner, I thought my first day would be like getting the band back together. I’d spent countless hours with Tina, making sure Nick was comfortable and could get back and forth to physical therapy when she worked. We’d become close. All of us. Now that Nick’s cleared for duty, I know I’ll have one person on my side, but that’s not really enough. In order to survive, I need them all. Even Tony.

  God, I wish I would have listened to Tina. Maybe it would have been easier for me to start fresh at a new house—a place with guys who didn’t know me. At least my feelings wouldn’t be getting hurt. Who am I kidding? They probably would be anyway.

  Slapping my hands on the counter, I open the closet and pull out the mop and cleaning supplies. If all they think I’m good for is tidying up after them and making sure they can piss in a clean bathroom, I’ll just have to prove them otherwise.

  It’s high time these brutes learn exactly what a woman can really do when she puts her mind to it.

  Even after a fire is out, it can continue to smolder. The smoke will rise from the ashes and the embers can reignite if not carefully cared for. And right now, I’m that fire, smoldering away. Hell hath no fury and all that good stuff.

  Watch out, 22. Francesca Martinez isn’t here to play games. I’m about to stake my claim and make a name for myself as the best female firefighter this city has ever seen.