Second Chances

by C S Carver

  “God no, but the call came in saying there was a lot of smoke.” He grins at me and shakes my shoulders. “C’mon, let’s get back to the firehouse and hit the showers. You’re done after this, right? Wanna go get a drink?” He squeezes the back of my neck and the touch sends a shiver down my spine. Eddie’s been trying to get in my pants since the day I stepped into the firehall.

  Firefighters and EMTs are a rare commodity these days. I proved I knew my way around fires and nasty accidents and since then I’ve gotten the royal treatment. Eddie is one of the few full time firefighters, and when I joined up, they were beside themselves.

  I don’t like to ‘shit where I eat’ so to speak, but something about today’s fire is putting me on edge. I spot the owner of the unit we just put out. He’s wearing a thin t-shirt, sweatpants and slippers. His face is ashen and he’s twisting his hands as if trying to keep them from trembling. He was probably taking down the trash and forgot his keys. Such a small fuck up. Such big consequences.

  The police have been circling since we got here, and they approach the unit owner after we give the all-clear. The man’s face falls, and he’s trying to put on a brave front even as they shove him into the squad car. He knows what’s coming. We all know. They didn’t even give the guy a fucking coat to fend off the chill.

  I look away, disgusted, and give a bitter chuckle. I didn’t exactly chomp at the bit to give him my coat either.

  Devon would have.

  I suck in a sharp breath and my chest aches. No. Not doing this tonight. I turn to Eddie, take in his big brown eyes and his black hair that’s matted to his skull. He’s got full lips that would look amazing wrapped around my cock, and I know he wants me. Perhaps he’s just the distraction I need tonight.

  “Sure, why don’t I meet you at Lou’s around eight?” I force the corners of my lips up and hope it looks something like a smile.

  Eddie’s grin grows into a full, blazing smile. “Sounds good, bud. See you at eight.”

  I watch him run off to help with packing up the truck and sigh. Eddie’s a good guy, quick tempered, but he’d run into a burning building to save a kitten. He doesn’t deserve to be used like this, but hey, no one said getting involved with me was a good idea.

  The squad car pulls away and we follow shortly. Back at the firehouse, I clean my gear and take a quick shower before ducking out. I’m not in the mood for small talk, even if it means missing Tom’s famous chilli for dinner.

  I got moved closer to the firehouse when I joined up as a firefighter and then moved again to something more luxurious when I became a full-timer. It’s a ten-minute walk from the firehall to my apartment. I pull my coat tighter around me and try to ignore the guilt eating at me as I hurry home to get changed.

  There are fewer cars on the street this late since most of them rely on solar panels to charge their batteries. I could have a car that can run all night if I wanted, not that I do. I don’t go anywhere other than work, home and the bar. But public servants are high in demand it seems.

  The Coastal Settlement has a working power plant, a fully functional transit system and even currency. It runs so much like a major city from before the Pandemic that sometimes I can pretend it never happened.

  Pretend that Ash’s eyes didn’t widen and well up as he clawed at his throat. Pretend he never collapsed as he struggled to reach me. Pretend I never—

  I jam the key to my apartment into the lock and twist with more force than necessary. What the hell is wrong with me tonight? I storm into the kitchen, pull out the bottle of liquor Eddie’s buddy distilled in his bathtub, and take a swig. The stuff burns all the way down and sits roiling in my empty stomach, but the effects are almost immediate. I've never been a fan of moonshine, but this stuff is potent as hell and just what I need.

  After another swig, I put the bottle down and change into a fresh t-shirt that hugs my biceps and a pair of fitted jeans. They even have clothing stores in the Coastal Settlement. Why would anyone ever want to leave? I eye the bottle as I head for the front door and decide against it. I’m taking Eddie home tonight, and I can’t do that if I’m drunk off my ass.

  Eddie’s already at the bar by the time I get there. His face splits in a wide smile when he spots me and I can’t resist its infectious effect.

  “Zane!” He hops off the bar stool and gives me a one-armed hug. “What’re you drinking?”

  Lou glides over with two bottles in hand. “You can have whatever you want as long as it’s white or amber.” Alcohol is one of those things the settlement hasn’t mass produced. Guess if it’s not a necessity, it’s not important enough to allocate resources to. All the liquor that’s not from before is homemade, and Lou's stuff is the best in the settlement.

  “The white stuff, please.” I nod toward the clear bottle in his hand.

  “Coming right up.”

  Eddie pulls his stool closer and takes a seat, his thigh pressing against mine. The heat is nice, and I lean into him with a sigh. “What a shitty end to a shitty day.”

  “The stove fire?” he asks. I nod. “We put it out in time. Nothing major happened. A bucket of soap and a fresh coat of paint will fix it right up.”

  Lou slides a shot glass and a pint of beer across the bar. I slam the shot then chase it with the beer. Damn, but Lou brews a mean lager, too. “And the guy?” I stare into Eddie’s eyes and wonder why I’m even bringing this up.

  “The guy?” he repeats. “Well, he’ll get what’s coming to him.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his beer.

  “See, that’s just the thing. Don’t you think two weeks in jail and a month’s pay is a bit much? It’s not like he did it on purpose.” I sit up straighter, my voice louder than I intended. Maybe it’s the alcohol that’s making me stupid. “He’ll lose the apartment.”

  “So? Maybe he shouldn’t have started a fire,” Eddie says, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. “What would happen if he burnt down the building? Where would we move all those people? I think it should be a month in jail.”

  I snort in disgust and the collar of my coat grows warm, too warm, and I shrug the damn thing off. “That’s fucking stupid.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “A month in jail? How would we feed him?”

  “That’s his problem.”

  I sigh. “People go to jail, they can’t work. And when they can’t work, they lose their jobs and then their homes. Then soon they become a drain on the settlement.”

  “Then they can leave.” Eddie frowns and his eyes grow cold.

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “You know what?” Eddie grabs his coat and pulls a twenty out of his wallet. “It’s been a long day. I’m gonna head home. See you at work tomorrow.”

  I watch Eddie leave and sick dread sits in the pit of my stomach. Or it could be the booze.

  “Hey, Zane.” Lou’s voices is soft, and I’m not too drunk to notice there’s something else there, too. “I think you should go home and sleep it off.” He smiles, but there’s sad resignation in his eyes.

  I fish out a twenty. Lou shakes his head and nods toward the door. “Just stay safe.”

  A lump forms in my throat and I step out of the bar without a backward glance. I don’t deserve Lou’s kindness, just as I didn’t deserve Devon’s and Sarah’s kindness. The short walk home feels like aeons, and I feel more alone than ever. When I shut my apartment door behind me, the living room greets me with cold indifference.

  I stare past the living room into the kitchen with all its chrome appliances. Stare out the large windows at the night sky. The stars are muted by the lights from the settlement. This is my home now. This is the life I chose, the life I’m good at. Not on a farm in the middle of nowhere. Not tending to animals and fixing fences and raising a kid. Here is where I will build a life for myself. I strip naked and slip beneath cold sheets and curl up into a ball.

  And a pair of piercing grey eyes haunt my dreams.

  ~*~*~

  “And you were
the quarterback?” the young man asks as he strokes the back of my hand.

  “I was. All through college.” I turn my hand over and press our palms together. His warmth seeps through my skin and for a moment, it chases away the loneliness.

  “So, ten years ago you’d have never looked at a nerd like me,” he says, his eyes sparkling, his smile teasing, and I can’t help but chuckle.

  “Ten years ago, I was married.”

  His eyes, grey as a mid-winter’s day, widen. “No way!”

  I shrug. “Let’s not talk about that.” I wave Lou over for another round of ‘the white stuff’ and I’m glad the young man whose name I’ve already forgotten takes the hint and moves on to something else.

  His lips are moving, but I barely hear his words. All I can do is stare at his eyes, at the round of his cheeks and the cut of his jaw. Stare at his mussed blond hair and the way he blushes all the way down his neck when I touch him. Just like—fuck. No. No.

  It’s been a week since my last disaster of a pick up at Lou’s, and tonight is turning out to be the same. Despite ample opportunity, I’ve yet to show off my fancy new apartment to anyone. The young man pauses, and I nod and laugh as if I’d been listening. His grey eyes narrow, and he can see something’s not right, but he doesn’t press because we’re civilized men living in civilized society.

  I let out a bitter chuckle, the sound cutting him off, and he frowns. “I’m sorry,” I say with a sigh. “It’s not you—”

  “No, I get it.” He tries to brush it off, but I can see the hurt in his eyes.

  “Here, let me get you another drink.” I wave Lou over. “Whatever he wants, put it on my tab.”

  “You don’t have a tab, boy,” Lou grumbles.

  I roll my eyes and pick up my beer before finding a table by the window. It’s a work night and the bar’s not crowded. I sit hunched over the table, the glass rolling between my palms. It’s been over a month since Max dropped us off. I haven’t seen Roxy or Kenzie since, which is just fine with me. I wouldn’t know what to say to them. Roxy, with her military training, is be a great asset to the settlement, so I’m sure she and Kenzie are doing well for themselves.

  Outside, rain patters against the window, and droplets of water turn the street into a mosaic of shapes and colours. I stare at a raindrop as it glides down, carving a path until it blends with the rest of the drops. Rinse. Repeat. Just like my life.

  Is this it? Work, drink, home, and when I’m not being an asshole, find someone to warm my bed for the night? I bring the glass to my lips as a heaviness sits on my chest. The bar is warm, but I’m chilled to the bone. I haven’t felt warm since I stepped into that barn all those weeks ago. Since Devon welcomed us into his home and his heart.

  Haven’t felt warm since I slept in Devon’s arms. Really slept.

  My eyes sting and I blink away the tears. Devon is in the past now, I made sure of that. There’s no point dwelling on something unfixable. Something I broke.

  The scrape of wood on concrete pulls my attention from the window. I’m about to protest when recognition sinks in, and my chest swells as a wave of warmth washes over me. “Max?”

  “Yo, Zane,” Max greets with a wave, his other hand holding a pint. “Long time.”

  I stare at him, afraid to move in case I'm hallucinating. “What're you doing here?”

  “Needed some supplies.” Max runs thick fingers through his hair and takes a long pull on his drink. “Thought I’d stay the night before heading back. Christ, raising a baby is hard work, and there’s three of us doing it. Don’t know how you and Meg managed by yourselves.”

  “A lot of coffee.” I sag in my seat and chuckle.

  “I’d give my left nut for a cuppa.”

  “Who wouldn’t these days?”

  Max hums but doesn’t respond, and we sit in silence as he sips his beer. I grip my glass with both hands to keep them from shaking. I know I miss him, but it takes seeing him again for me to realize just how much. My heart jackhammers and I can’t quite decide if I want to laugh or cry. Max seems to sense my conflict, he’s got that knowing look in his eyes, but he says nothing. Just sits there, stoic as always, and lets me lean on him for as long as I need.

  Fuck.

  After another long beat of silence, he puts down his glass and asks, “How’s settlement life treating ya?”

  “Really great, actually.” I roll the glass between my hands and lean forward in my chair. “Got my old job. Full time fire and rescue. Nice apartment. Three bedrooms. The hell am I supposed to do with three bedrooms?”

  Max laughs, and the sound is a warm wind to my cold ass bones. “I dunno? Host orgies?”

  “Yeah”—I wrinkle my nose—“I’m good.” I pause, and Max stares me straight in the eyes until I work up the courage. “So…how are they?”

  “Sarah and the baby are fine.” The corner of Max’s lips twitch. “He’s a lusty babe, that one. Sucking his mother dry.”

  “That’s…that’s great, man.” Another pause, this one longer as the words stick to my throat. “And Devon?”

  “As good as can be,” Max says. Fuck, he doesn’t pull punches. Never has. “Sarah and I rotate baby duty, so Devon’s taken it upon himself to look after the farm. It’s hard work.”

  I nod and stare out the window, avoiding his eyes.

  “Anyway, I drove by the firehall on my way here. Looks nice. Two trucks?”

  Max can still see right through me. Sometimes I wonder if I’m transparent or something. “Yeah. Fully functional too. Looks like they got a lot of the infrastructure intact here and the looting wasn’t so bad.”

  “It almost feels like before,” he says, then drains the last of his beer.

  “Almost.” I sigh.

  Max turns his sharp gaze on me. “What’s up?”

  I want to tell him I’m lonely and I hate it. But all that comes out is a weak little smile and a head shake. “Nothing, man. Just that it would have been nice to have you with me. They need firefighters.” It’s the truth, and it’s as close to me admitting that I miss him as we're going to get.

  He studies me with narrowed eyes, and I do my best not to squirm. If Max senses my bullshit, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he nods toward the bar and quirks his eyebrows. “So, there’s that guy sitting at the bar stealing glances at us. It’s making me edgy.”

  I glance toward where he’s looking and groan. “Fuck. That was my date.”

  Max’s eyes bug out of his head. “He looks just like—”

  “Don’t fucking say it,” I bark. “Please.” He reaches across the table and squeezes my wrist. I stare at his hand and say, “I hurt him, Max.”

  “I know, but it’s not too late.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “It never is with you.” Max chuckles.

  I look up at him and drown in the pool of kindness in his eyes. I want to believe him, but I shake my head and pull my arm from his grip. “I got a good thing going here, Max.”

  Max sighs. “If you say so.” He shrugs on his coat and pulls his tuque over his ears. “It was great seeing you, man.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  “Gotta check into my room or I lose it.” He smiles, but it lacks its usual radiance.

  “You can stay with me.”

  Max shakes his head and his smile fades. “You take care. I’ll see you next time I’m in town.”

  I watch his silhouette disappear out the door and loneliness creeps back until I’m shivering all over. Swallowing, I turn back to the bar and catch the young man’s grey eyes and put on my best smile as I try to ignore the hole in my chest.

  ~*~*~

  The call comes in just after one in the morning.

  I blink and rub sleep from my eyes as my body rolls out of the cot on autopilot. Within minutes, we’re dressed and riding out to an address that’s vaguely familiar. It’s not until we pull up to the building that I recognize it.

  We go through each floor, making sure there’s no
smell or signs of smoke or fire. When we reach the floor where the stove fire was last time, I ring the doorbell, and a gaunt woman opens the door.

  “Yes?” She glares at me and pulls her housecoat tightly around her skinny frame.

  I blank for a second, then shake my head and force a smile. “When the alarm goes off you should evacuate the building.”

  Her eyes narrow and she hides a yawn behind her hand before saying, “Yes, of course.”

  The door shuts in my face as Eddie and Tom turn down the hall, and we take the stairs to the next floor. I go through the motions but I can’t focus. As we clear the basement, Tom radios the all-clear and we head back to the truck as Eddie goes to shut off the shrill alarm. I drop off my oxygen tank and whip off my mask and helmet when an elderly woman approaches me with apprehension.

  “Excuse me, young man,” she says, her voice quivering. “You were here two weeks ago, weren’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I swallow and try to keep my voice calm.

  “Poor Gerald. They came and cleared out his stuff. Can’t make rent if he can’t work, and that fine cost him all he had.” The woman stares up the side of the building. “He got locked out because of me. I needed help with a leaky faucet in the bathroom,” she says. “You know how they get about wasting water.” About as forgiving as starting a fire. I nod.

  She swallows and takes a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s all my fault. Anyway, thanks for coming out. I hope it’s a false alarm, at least no one will go to jail for that.”

  I watch her shuffle away and something snaps into clarity. This place. This life. It’s an illusion. A trap. I ride back with the crew in silence, and my sour mood must be all over my face because no one tries to talk to me, not even Eddie. I stare around me as the guys file out of the garage, unfazed by the injustice of it all.

  Even back in my old settlement where punishment was harsh for those who destroyed resources, there was a trial. Circumstances matter. How can these people be okay with this? Is this the sort of person I want to become? Uncaring as long as it doesn’t affect my life?

  Devon would hate it.

  Something squeezes around my chest and suddenly I can’t breathe. This isn’t right. I can’t be here, can’t be a part of this. I can’t become this.