Nick stopped what he was doing and looked up at Issie. She was staring at the radio as if she could see the announcer. “Nick, we’ve got to go help,” Issie said.
Nick nodded. “You read my mind.”
Together they bolted out of the office and headed for their car.
Dan and Mark were just getting to the Midtown station as Nick and Issie drove up. The whole shift was throwing on turnout gear, and the trucks were already idling. Dan didn’t wait for orders. He grabbed his own gear and started pulling it on.
“Five alarms!” Ray said. “I’m calling everybody in!”
Mark and Nick grabbed their gear and jumped into the truck, and as it started moving out of the bay, Dan climbed in. Issie got into the rescue unit that sped off in front of them.
Dan wiped the sweat from his forehead. Even in the cool of December the air seemed sweltering. He pulled his cell phone out and dialed Jill’s phone again. Still no answer.
“It’s going to be all right, man,” Mark said.
Dan gritted his teeth. “She was on the top floor. Ray, where was the explosion, exactly?”
Ray shook his head. “I don’t know, Dan.”
Dan kept the phone to his ear as a sick feeling swirled in his stomach. He thought of Jill trapped above that fire, helpless to escape. Please, God . . .
Nick patted his knee and began to pray out loud. “Lord, you know where Jill is. Protect her. Put her in a bubble. Help her to get out of that building. We’re gonna need a ton of miracles today. One for every person in that place.”
The phone kept ringing, ringing, ringing. Either she didn’t have her briefcase with her, or she wasn’t able to answer it. “Oh, God, don’t let anything happen to her.”
The siren on the truck almost drowned out the ringing, but Dan didn’t give up.
Ray talked into his own cell phone as they crossed Lake Pontchartrain heading for the South Shore. NOFD had set up a command post in the lobby, he learned, and dozens of firefighters had already started up by foot, carrying at least sixty pounds of gear each in hopes of attacking the fire.
As they hit Interstate 10 heading into the city, they could see the black plume of smoke marking the tragic spot.
He wondered if any survivors had made it to the roof. Was a helicopter rescue possible, or were the flames too high? With all the black smoke he could see around the top of the building, was there any source of fresh air?
Ray looked behind him at the men straining to see. “I was told that the building’s standpipe system should be working, so there should be a water source on the upper floors. But the elevators are dead. There’s a north wind, so we have to watch the buildings south of Icon. We’re looking at an inverted burn. We’re not sure how far down it’s gotten yet.”
“Did they evacuate before the explosion, Ray?” Dan yelled up to him. “Were there people on those floors?”
Ray wished he had good news for his friend. “They don’t know, Dan. They believe there were people trapped.”
The closer the Newpointe truck got to Canal Street, the more glutted traffic became. Panic had broken out in the streets. Sirens blared and horns honked as other emergency vehicles from neighboring towns tried to thread through the bumper-to-bumper cars. The traffic lights weren’t working, and uniformed police stood directing traffic and trying to help the emergency vehicles through.
“Looks like the power’s down in the whole area,” Ray said.
Dan hung on as George drove the cumbersome truck around a corner.
The smell of smoke hit him before he could even see the building. Still blocks away, people with soot-covered faces ran toward them as if getting as far from the inferno as they could. As the truck flew past, he saw two women collapse on the sidewalk in fits of coughing. Maybe Jill had gotten out too. Maybe she walked among the refugees, out of harm’s way.
“Looks bad,” Ray said as the fire came into view.
Dan leaned over to see out the opposite window. The smoke was thicker here, blurring their view, but he could see the raging fire engulfing the top floors. Flaming debris fell through the air, threatening anyone on the ground.
The gravity of the situation hit him. Just being on the same block could prove deadly. No one would be safe, least of all the firefighters heading into the fray.
As they turned onto Canal Street, he saw that the road had been cleared. Only emergency vehicles were allowed through. Blue and red lights flashed all around them, and the smell of exhaust from the enormous vehicles mingled with the smoke.
People still poured from the building—some burned, others bleeding, all gasping for breath. These would be the ones from the upper floors, he imagined.
He thought of jumping out, grabbing one of them, and demanding to know what floor they’d come from and whether they’d had an evacuation alarm before the bomb went off. If they had, maybe Jill had survived.
Lord, please help me find her.
“We’re reporting to Battalion Chief Breaux,” Ray yelled as the truck came to a stop. “His command post is in the lobby.”
Dan leaped off the truck, got his gear, and headed inside. He found the command post in a corner of the lobby that looked spit-polished and untouched. From here, you would never know that tragedy devoured the top floors.
He got his orders, then headed up the south stairwell. The evacuees came down single file, leaving the right side for the firefighters going up. Lugging a hose, a pickax, and an extra tank, he scaled the stairs, checking each face he passed for his wife.
Chapter Four
Jill was almost to the fifteenth floor when the second blast shook the building. It came from somewhere below them, shaking the stairs beneath them and knocking them off their feet. She lost her hold on Gordon and he tumbled down several steps.
Ashley’s screams echoed Jill’s, and she reached for the girl and tried to cover her as the stairwell wall just below them caved in, covering the stairs. Gordon hunkered against the wall that hadn’t crumbled, his arms shielding his head.
“Come on,” Jill cried. “Everybody up!”
“Where we gonna go?” Ashley screamed. “We’re trapped. We can’t get through!”
Jill smelled the gas fumes rippling on the heat. She looked back up the way they had come. The flames were eating the floors one by one, and soon, the new fire from the second explosion would begin to climb. She didn’t want to be sitting here when the two forces met.
Maybe the stairs beneath them hadn’t collapsed. She hadn’t felt the floor fall away. If they were still intact, maybe getting down was just a question of clearing the rubble out of their way.
But the fallen wall had blocked their way, and she knew they might not have time to dig their way through. No, going back up was the only answer. But how far would they get before they encountered those licking flames? And how would they drag Gordon up? It had been hard enough when they’d been going down.
She regarded the older man, whose face twisted in pain. He was breathing heavily and rasping asthmatically. Black soot stained his face just below his nose and around his mouth from breathing the smoke. Ashley’s face was streaked as well. Jill supposed that she looked the same.
“Come on, Gordon,” she said. “Get up. I don’t know where we’re going, but I know we have to move.”
Gordon gritted his teeth against the pain and tried to get up. “The other side,” he grunted. “If we go up to the next landing and go across to the other stairwell, it may be open.”
She had forgotten the other stairwell. Maybe it hadn’t been affected. Maybe it was still clear all the way down.
They hoisted him up again, taking the stairs up one at a time. Finally, they reached the next landing and touched the reentry door. It wasn’t hot, so Jill pushed it open. The floor was smoky but provided clear passage to the south stairwell. Gordon slowed them, but they dragged him mercilessly despite his pain.
Gordon was struggling for breath when they reached the exit door on the south side. Before testing the
door, Jill let him go and quickly shrugged out of her blazer.
“Here, this can filter out the smoke.” She tied the arms around the back of his head.
He fought her. “No, use it for yourself or the girl.”
“Don’t argue with me!” she shouted. “There’s no time.” He allowed her to secure the blazer around his face, but veins popped out on his forehead as pain racked through him.
“Leave me,” he said, his voice muffled through the cloth. “I can’t make it. There could be another bomb. You have to get out of here as fast as you can.”
“I will not leave you!” she shouted. “Don’t you understand there’s fire above and below us? You can’t stay.”
Ashley started to cough. She let Gordon go and doubled over.
“Pull your shirt up over your mouth,” Jill said, doing the same.
“You don’t have much time before it spreads this way,” Gordon said. “I’m slowing you down.”
“Come on, Ashley!” Jill shouted. “Let’s get him down.” She tested the exit door into the south stairwell. It wasn’t hot, so she flung it open. The stairwell looked clear. Could it be that the bomb had only hit the other side of the building?
Maybe they would make it down, after all.
They managed to get Gordon down one flight, then two, when she heard something crashing behind her. She looked up and saw the flames licking through the wall.
She had never felt more helpless.
The closer they got to the tenth floor, the louder the screams grew. There were people trapped on that floor, but she couldn’t see them and didn’t know where to look for them.
Please, God. Help them.
The building felt unstable. She could hear crashing and flames crackling, and she felt the shiver of the stairwell as if it might fall out from under her.
We’re going to die. The thought came to her suddenly, unbidden, and as she dragged Gordon down the stairs, she felt an overwhelming sense of sorrow.
I never got to be a mother.
She remembered herself and Allie, years ago, talking about Jesus’ return, and she’d stupidly said that she hoped he didn’t come back until she’d had the chance to be a mother. Allie had laughed and told her that she suspected heaven would be better than motherhood and that she doubted she would even remember not having that family when she stood in the presence of God.
Maybe so. And if she were a more mature Christian, she should look forward to the end of her earthly life. As Paul had said, “To be absent in the flesh is to be present with the Lord.” But she wasn’t there yet. She and Dan had so many plans. She wanted to see the look in his eye when he held his baby for the first time. She wanted to know what it was like to nurse a child. She wanted to change diapers and potty train and videotape that first day of kindergarten.
Was that dream dead now? Just an arrogant human plan that had nothing to do with God’s purpose?
Ashley started coughing again, so they had to pause for a moment. The heat was more intense here, and she had the sense that they were approaching more fallout. Despair seeped through her, and she thought of giving up, sitting down on these stairs, and letting the end overtake her.
She didn’t know what floor they were on or how far they had to go.
“Come on, Ashley,” she said over the girl’s coughing. “We have to keep moving, sweetheart.”
Ashley managed to stop hacking and began pulling her weight again.
Then she heard footsteps, and her heart leaped. They had caught up to other survivors! And they were still moving, which might mean that the stairwell was clear—that they could get out this way.
Except that the footsteps seemed to be getting louder, as if they were coming toward them, instead of moving away.
As they reached the next landing, she heard a man’s voice yelling to someone else. “Check all of the offices as you reach each floor. Make sure nobody’s left!”
“We’re here!” she shouted. “There are three of us! Is the stairwell clear?”
“It’s clear!” a voice yelled. She heard someone running up toward them—and then she saw him. A firefighter, loaded down with gear, wearing a mask and oxygen tank.
Relief assaulted her, and she started to cry. If firefighters had made it this far up, she knew they would get out.
“This man is injured!” she cried. “Please, can you help us get him out?”
The firefighter came the last few steps and took Gordon from her. “Need help up here!” he yelled back down the stairs. “Got an injured man!”
Ashley started coughing again, and he nodded toward the girl. “You two get out of here now. We’ll take care of him.”
“We’ll see you outside, Gordon,” Jill cried behind her as she took Ashley’s arm and started down the stairs.
The old man only nodded and waved.
Chapter Five
What floor are we on?” Ashley’s words came between fits of coughing.
“Four, I think.” They ran down, side by side. “We’re going to get out. I can feel it.”
They turned on the landing. Two firefighters had just entered the stairwell, carrying a man in a wheelchair. They blocked the way, making it impossible for Jill and Ashley to get by.
She thought of yelling for them to move, but then she heard the man’s asthmatic wheezing and realized he had probably been left there, terrified, as everyone else got out. She slowed down and put her arm around Ashley.
Ashley was trembling all over. Jill thought of the girl’s mother and prayed that she would be waiting outside for her. But she feared the worst. If her mother had been on one of the upper floors, it was doubtful that she had survived.
The firefighters carried the man rapidly, but they stopped on each landing to let more firemen pass them on the way up.
Finally, they reached the first floor. They burst out of the stairwell, past the firefighters carrying the wheelchair, and into the lobby. Daylight broke through the smoky air. Ashley coughed and gagged as Jill pulled her along beside her.
She ran across the lobby, keeping the neck of her shirt up over her nose. Except for the haze of smoke, the lobby looked as clean and inviting as it had when she’d arrived this morning. One would never know that just a few floors up people were dying.
Rescue workers had set up a command post on one corner of the floor, and a stream of firefighters in bunker gear headed for the stairwells to search for stragglers.
Ashley stopped coughing as the front door came into view, and together they headed for it. Bursting outside, they both gasped for air.
She could hear the flames above her now, and she looked up. The top seven floors were engulfed in flames, and more smoke poured from a hole around the tenth, where the second explosion had occurred.
Debris fell like bombs around them, crashing on the pavement.
She didn’t know which direction to run.
The south side of the building looked safer, so she headed toward it, pulling Ashley. Emergency vehicles blocked the street, and firefighters just getting to the scene leaped out of their trucks and headed toward the door she had just come out.
Half a block from the building, she looked back to see if they were out of harm’s way. Debris dropped closer to the flaming structure, but not near them. “I think we can slow down now,” she said.
Ashley started coughing again. Jill bent over and tried to clear her own lungs.
She looked around, trying to determine where they should go. Maybe an ambulance somewhere was providing water or oxygen. She pulled Ashley toward the vehicles. She passed a fire truck from Slidell, one from Mandeville—
And then she stopped cold. She saw two Newpointe trucks.
Her heart tripped as she turned back toward the building and wondered how many of her friends had gone in. Thank God Dan was off today.
Or was he? She’d never known Dan to miss a big fire. He would have gone to the station as soon as he’d heard.
Besides, he would have been worried about her.
He would have come just to make sure—
She ran between the idling trucks and saw Marty Bledsoe changing tanks. Ashley followed her, still hacking the soot from her lungs. “Marty!”
He turned around and looked surprised to see her. “Jill, you’re okay!” He looked hard at Ashley. “She needs oxygen. Here, take this. Sit down, honey.”
Ashley sat down on the truck’s bumper and took the mask.
Jill started to cough again, but she wasn’t going to take Ashley’s tank. “Where’s Dan, Marty?” she choked. “Did he come with you?”
“Yeah, Dan’s here,” he said. “He went up to help the evacuation.”
Dread almost knocked her down. She looked back at the building. Already it swayed, as if it might fall down. One more bomb, another crumbling wall, flames eating through a floor, could bring it all down.
And when it did, it would bring Dan down with it.
Chapter Six
It was slow going. Sweltering heat battled with the black smoke pouring through the stairwells as Dan climbed higher. Breathing through his mask, he stopped for a moment to shrug his tank off, then slipped out of his turnout coat. He tied it around his waist and pulled the tank back on.
He was still too hot. The fire was spreading so quickly that there was no escape from it, and the farther up he went, the hotter it got.
Around the eighth floor, he’d encountered vicious flames and a pile of debris in the south stairwell, and he’d had to cross to the north stairwell. He hoped that when they got as high as they could go the standpipe system would still be working.
On the radio snapped to his belt, he could hear the broken transmissions from those who’d gotten to the upper floors.
“Twentieth is as high as we can get.”
Line of Duty Page 3