Blaze: A Firefighter Romance

by Lisa Lace

  "Halt! Present your identification."

  We turned around and found ourselves face-to-face with a floating robot shaped like a box, and fitted with yellow sirens on both sides. Laz threw a hand over me and took a step back cautiously. He put his fingers to his lips.

  "Without identification, the penalty is death. Present identification in 3...2..."

  "Run!"

  Laz shoved me forward to give me a head start. Behind me, the drone whirred as a twin-headed barrel emerged from its top. Fiery bullets sprayed from the barrel in our general direction.

  We sprinted down to the end of the street. Seeing an open manhole in front of us, we leaped down into a black void.

  Chapter Eleven

  LAZ

  As we plummeted into the darkness, I desperately looped an arm around the first thing I saw - a glint of metal. I clung to the side of the pipe and hauled Gabriella close to me with an outstretched arm. She was petite, but the stiffness of her frozen arms and legs made it seem like she weighed more than she did. I swung my leg over the top of the pipe and secured her in front of me.

  "Sit up straight and keep your hands on both sides so you don't fall off."

  "Thanks, like I didn't know that already," Gabriella snapped. She trembled as she looked over at me and shot me a blistering glance. At least the shaking meant she was able to move again. "Hurry up with whatever you're doing back there. I can feel my hands starting to slip."

  I ignored Gabriella's hysterical cries and took out the only light source I had left. The cylinders were small enough to keep in my pocket, but they only lasted about half an hour. I twisted it open and activated the light.

  "Just hold on a little longer."

  I took out a grappling hook and extendable rope, tying a knot in the center of the claw. Securing the line, I attached the end of the rope to my belt loop. I pulled both ends to make sure it was secure.

  "I don't have a choice if I want to stay alive. Can you just get me down from here? Please?"

  I pulled Gabriella close to me and placed her arms on my shoulders. She was swinging dangerously, and she couldn't stop looking at the depths underneath us. Her icy fingers trembled as they tightened around my neck. As soon as the hook was anchored, I held her chin in my hand.

  "You can do this. Don't look down. Trust me."

  Gabriella nodded weakly. Holding her in front of me, I carefully released my legs from the sides of the pipe. We smoothly slid down with the assistance of the extendable rope. I held out my light to guide the path. When we approached the ground, I adjusted our descent and moved to the side. We touched down on the landing next to a flowing passage of sewer sludge.

  She lifted her new satchel and bent down. With her hands cupped over her kneecaps, she fought to catch her breath. I reached over to take her bag and stepped back to give her some room.

  "Do you need some water?"

  She didn't answer for a minute. "No, I'll be all right, thank you," Gabriella replied, panting. She straightened her back and took her satchel back. "I'm sorry for barking at you like that. Heights and I don't mix."

  "I gathered as much," I quickly said as I turned my head away. "If you can move, we should get out of here. I don't know how much longer this light is going to last. Are you ready?"

  "I'm good enough to go," said Gabriella. She removed her gas mask from the satchel and placed it over her head. "Let's do it."

  Even though the Xylox sewage system smelled like excrement and death, it was less toxic than the air above ground. There were different dangers in the sewers. Discolored water constantly dripped from the leaky overhead pipes. Damp rats with crooked spines and shrunken heads were everywhere. They weren't afraid of us. Instead, they looked up at us curiously with glowing red eyes as they scurried over our boots.

  I knew Gabriella remained tense behind me, but she was a good soldier. Her desire to get out of here made her move faster than before. We headed east and forged ahead until we saw a sliver of light coming from a loose manhole cover above us. I shined the light around, revealing a set of steps bolted to the wall.

  "Here we go."

  I shoved the light into Gabriella's hand and pulled out the pouch containing my communicator pieces. Gabriella crouched next to me and shined the blinking light on my hands. I tore off the seal to the Morse board with my teeth and started reassembling the communicator. But as I squinted at the electronics in front of me, I realized there was a problem.

  "Damn it!" My angry cry echoed through the tunnel.

  "What's wrong?" asked Gabriella softly. She removed her mask and blankly stared at the communicator in my hands. "Are you missing something?"

  "One of the pins must have snapped off when this thing fell apart," I grumbled. I kicked a piece of gravel to my left. The rock briefly floated on the sludge before it started to smoke and disappeared below the dark surface. Next to me, Gabriella began to fiddle with her right ear. She removed an earring and held it out to me in the palm of her hands.

  I pinched the post of the small diamond earring between my fingers and examined it carefully.

  "This might work." My forehead wrinkled as I gazed at her intently. "Are you sure you're okay with letting me use this? I'm going to have to break it apart. Is it a family heirloom?"

  "It's fine," said Gabriella, waving a hand. "I'm not concerned with having matching earrings right now, if you know what I mean."

  "Your sacrifice will be long remembered by the Maztek."

  I twisted off the diamond and slipped it into my chest pocket. The repair would require delicate precision and a steady hand. I pushed the gold earring post against the resistor and manipulated the earring back on its side to hold the resistor in place. As soon as I heard a gratifying click, I puffed out my chest and beat my thigh twice with my fist. It was a silent and watered-down version of a Maztek victory bellow.

  "Was that good?"

  "It means I've set it in place. Half the screen has been shattered, so now we're going to find out if this thing even works."

  I turned a knob on the communicator and adjusted it from side to side. The green light on the top of the screen blinked, giving me hope. Gabriella cheered enthusiastically over my shoulder. But when a deep crackling came out of the speaker, I groaned.

  "There's no signal down here. I'm going to have to climb to the top. Stay close to me, and don't move any further unless I tell you to. Understood?"

  "Yes, commander," Gabriella mumbled. She rose from the ground and looked me in the eye. "Lighten up a little. You can live life without everything being an order."

  I stared at her for a moment but swallowed my snippy retort.

  "While we're down here, give me a second to change out of these nasty clothes."

  "You have two minutes."

  I aimed the light toward her body and turned away to face the opposite wall. Gabriella shimmied out of her torn dress. She rolled it into a ball and casually tossed it into the sewer sludge. I could hear a soft unzipping behind me, and I couldn't control my thoughts. I knew she was naked and she would look fantastic.

  My eyes focused on the distinct shadow of her body cast against the wall. The side view of her silhouette showed off the rounded curve of her breasts contrasted against her flat stomach. Her hourglass figure bent forward. As she rolled the pants of her jumpsuit over her leg, the shadow of her jiggling breasts shook along with her body. The lustful sight was enough to bring my cock to attention. I averted my eyes and relocated them to a smudge on my boot.

  "I'm all set now."

  I turned around. All my years spent playing cards were put to good use when I made eye contact with her without revealing my thoughts. She looked good enough to devour in her skintight black jumpsuit. The zipper which ran down the middle of the suit was open over her chest. Seeing the globes of her perky breasts made me want to reach out and touch them.

  She ran a hand through her hair and shook it loose over her shoulders. I turned away, ostensibly to investigate the manhole steps but secretly
to adjust the sudden tightness in my crotch.

  Gabriella handed me a fresh rag for my face before putting her gas mask on again. I grunted at her in appreciation and tied it over my head. With Gabriella behind me, I moved up the cold steps and scaled the length of the wall. I stopped before the manhole opening and held the communicator to my ear.

  "Hold."

  The crackling continued. Either we weren't high enough, or the cover itself was interfering with the transmission. I reached out and pushed off the cover with the tips of my fingers. The thick metal disc made a loud noise when I moved it aside. I climbed to the top and lifted Gabriella out of the hole by the waist, setting her down next to me.

  I was still squatting when the crackling subsided. I distinctly heard a beep from the device before the faint sounds of scrambled voices started to come over the communicator. As I tinkered some more, trying to make the voices even clearer, Gabriella began to poke at my side with her finger. Anger flooded my mind. I needed to concentrate. I turned around to face her.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Behind you, Laz – watch out!"

  I had been so immersed in getting the communicator to work that I had completely missed a figure waddling toward us. Gabriella jumped to her feet and clumsily swung her fist over my head. The figure lifted her off the ground instantly and flung her aside. Gabriella's airborne body hit a crooked street pole before falling limply to the ground.

  A Xylo security officer wearing tinted red goggles beat his chest with gloved fists. He seemed pretty excited for taking down a girl. I bounced off the ground and sprang on top of him before he could draw his holstered weapon. We crashed to the dirt, rolling around as we wrestled for his pistol.

  More adrenaline pumped into my system. I managed to get my hand on the weapon on the other side of his belt. Slipping my fingers over the trigger, I pulled back, aimed, and fired in a single motion. An electric charge shot from the mouth of the gun and incapacitated him. The Xylo convulsed briefly before his arms and legs became immobilized, and he fell over on his side.

  Turning on my heel, I vaulted toward Gabriella. She lay unconscious by the base of the dented street pole. I lifted the side of her head and laid it in my lap. There was a small gash over her eyebrow, but there were no other visible signs of injury. I pressed two fingers against her neck. Feeling her faint but steady pulse beating against my fingertips, I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding.

  I heard shouting behind me. My neck creaked as I looked over my shoulder. Either the Xylo weapon was undercharged, or the security officer weighed too much for the shock to knock him out for long. The Xylo was regaining sensation in his limbs. He snaked his way across the asphalt, rolling on his greasy stomach and heading toward his hover bike, which was still running. It was on standby a few inches off the ground.

  I hooked Gabriella's satchel over my shoulder. Scooping her off the ground, I carried her to the hover bike and carefully positioned her in the seat. The security officer tried to pull me off his bike, but he was still crawling around on the ground. I trampled over his fingers. The sickening crunch of breaking bones mixed with his agonizing screams in the air.

  Grabbing the keys from his belt, I secured Gabriella before mounting the hover bike myself. Black smog coughed out of the tailpipe as the bike lifted off the ground, blowing in the Xylo's unconscious face.

  Chapter Twelve

  GABRIELLA

  The wooden planks of the bridge sunk slightly under my weight. I wavered and held onto the railing. In the sunlight, it almost looked like the bridge glowed a pristine white. I wondered if I was leaving tracks with my muddy shoes. When I looked behind me, there wasn't a spot in sight.

  I did a double-take when I wiggled my toes.

  The sky-blue ballet flats Dad gave me years ago sparkled on my feet. But they couldn't have been the same pair. The ones he got fit me when I was a child, but the shoes I was wearing were perfect for my adult body. I also remembered Richard throwing them out when I had accidentally spilled paint on the dining table. I raised one of my legs and tilted my head to the side. The hand-stitched sequins, the little white bows – the shoes were nearly identical.

  Shrugging, I proceeded to the other end of the bridge. I didn't have a clue about my location but there was a strong sense of familiarity. I had been here before. Bushes with blue and violet flowers grew along the sides of the clear water. The grass tickled my feet as I walked across it.

  I followed the trail of a winding stone path. Wooden signs with unintelligible blood-red symbols poked out of the grass by the sidelines. When I reached the end of the road, I noticed my toes were tingling. It felt like my ballet flats had a mind of their own.

  I left the trail and walked across the slope of a small hill.

  "How are you doing, Shooting Star?"

  My heart did a little flip in my chest. I slowly turned to the man sitting on the grass a few feet away from me. A soft touch of gray peppered his carefully parted hair. The only other hints of his age were bags under his eyes. He had a terribly handsome face. A pair of gold-rimmed frames sat on the bridge of his nose. His glasses were slightly lopsided on the right side, supported by an uneven ear. The initials "K.M.H," were printed on the pocket of his tailored brown coat.

  "Dad?"

  "Of course." Wrinkles formed next to his eyes as he beamed at me. He patted the patch of ground next to him. "Let's chat."

  I joined him on the grass, hugging my legs. "Am I dead?"

  Dad held his stomach and threw his head back. His uninhibited laughter rang across the sweeping landscape. I rested my cheek against my knee and watched him, smiling.

  "Don't be silly, Gabriella. Of course not."

  "What am I doing here, then?"

  "I don't know," said Dad. He winked. "You tell me."

  "Beats me."

  He raised an eyebrow. "Is that all you have to say to me after so long apart?"

  "Where are we?"

  "Why don't you take a look around and see if you can figure it out for yourself?"

  I sat up and looked at the beautiful water in front of me. A paddle leaned against the wooden dinghy docked by the river bank. Beyond that stood a quaint country cottage with a thick black roof that looked like a mushroom cap. My eyes lit up when it hit me.

  "I'm at the lake behind Grandma Molly's house," I breathed dreamily. My chin quivered. "You taught me how to ride a bike on that stone path when I was six. I felt awful when I heard Grandma Molly sold the cottage."

  "I was sad to hear the news, too," Dad shared ruefully. He looked on at the cottage and whistled. "I had a lot of great memories here. All those girls I brought back to my room when I was a teenager..."

  "Stop right there." I held a hand up to his face, smiling behind my groan. "Too much. Not ready to hear that, and don't think I ever will be."

  "Fair enough." Dad was still chuckling. His smile slowly faded. "How have you been holding up, kiddo?"

  "Where do I start?" I sighed dramatically. My throat was beginning to feel thick. I tried to kick things off on a lighter note. "I think Mom's around your age now. I saw her a couple of weeks ago. You've aged far better than she has, if that means anything to you."

  "Maybe a little," said Dad. His eyes twinkled.

  "You know, I thought I wouldn't be able to control myself when I saw her. But I wasn't angry anymore. I felt pity for how old and unhealthy she is, but it felt like encountering a stranger at a bus stop."

  "I can understand that." Dad's voice was gentle and brooding. "Gabriella, I'm sorry about everything you had to go through. I wasn't there for you, Shooting Star."

  "Sorry?" My words sounded distant and forced. "It wasn't your fault. You weren't an abusive drunk who beat his wife into submission and went crazy when he couldn't do the same thing with his stepdaughter."

  "You know I would never let anything happen to you if I was around."

  "I know, I know," I groaned. I buried my face in my hands. "I'm lashing out for no reason now,
and it isn't fair to you, so I'll stop."

  "You're angry."

  "No kidding." My voice dripped sarcasm. "Considering everything that's happened so far? I wonder why that would be."

  "Gabriella, I know this is hard for you, but you're going to have to learn to stop keeping all your anger in a little ball inside you. You need to let things go."

  "That's easy for you to say," I retorted. "You're dead. You're done with all the bullshit. You're not the one who was left alone to navigate through life all by herself."

  "I'm sorry, Shooting Star."

  I leaned my head against Dad's shoulder. The physical contact was more than I could handle and I felt tears start to fall. I slipped my arm under his and clung to his body. He seemed solid to me. If I closed my eyes and concentrated hard enough, I could almost smell his particular scent: peppermint and traces of cologne.

  "I'm sorry, Dad." I could barely see him anymore through my tears. "I miss you."

  "I know," he whispered. He petted my head and planted a kiss on my forehead. "I miss you more."

  "How do you always stay so happy, Dad?" I tilted my head to look up at him. "No offense, but why aren't you bitter and resentful like anyone else would be? Do you know what was happening back home all the times you were away at Maztek? Do you have any idea how many strange men have been in your room?"

  "I've always known," he admitted glumly. "Your mother's weak. I made my peace with that years ago. If I had done anything about it, they would have taken you away from me."

  I wouldn't let it go. "But you've worked so hard all your life only to die in your prime." I wasn't convinced. "I don't mean to sound like I'm accusing you of anything. But some answers would be nice."

  "You might not always find answers, honey, but there's a reason for everything."

  "What does that even mean? That's too philosophical. I need straight talk."