Hell's Hilltop

by J. A. Dennam

  It was good to be back. It had been much too long since the mysterious midnight phone call from a dead man had thrown him into an inexplicable world of chaos. Ty welcomed the quiet. Nothing but the overhead tone signaling an emergency would scrape him out of that recliner. The firehouse offered him freedoms he didn’t even have at home now that Crystal had made a habit of popping through his front door uninvited. She’d force another pill down his throat, check his wounds, yammer about shit he no longer wanted any part of.

  He got it. Things were going good, moving according to plan:

  Danny had convinced Derek to reunite with their parents before his survival became public knowledge. Something about preserving the old man’s ticker. Awesome.

  Mel was house hunting with the hopes of finding a bigger place for her family within the week. Cool.

  Daily routines had returned to normal, businesses back up and running now that the threat had been eliminated. Fantastic.

  Crystal had moved into the apartment with Mac and they enjoyed an active sex life. Too much information, but… yay for them.

  The one thing Crystal didn’t talk about… was Rena. Ty wasn’t stupid, he knew she wanted him to ask. But he stubbornly refused. Knew Rena was free to come to him if she wanted and take him on another painful roller coaster ride just to see if he’d puke this time.

  But, she didn’t, and that was fine with him. He heard enough about her from the newscasts that managed to find their way onto his television every day since the explosion.

  “It started with an anonymous tip, and ended with a confession. Valley State Prison corrections officer, Charles Moore, was taken into custody after police raided his home and discovered evidence that linked him directly to the disappearance of inmate, Rena Hellberg. Hellberg, who went missing from the prison’s medical ward Friday night, is still on the loose, but a prison psychiatrist claims he has proof that Moore has been chemically ‘managing’ Hellberg since before her arrest.”

  Then, the next day…

  “A bizarre twist in the Rena Hellberg case. Evidence found on the home computer of corrections officer, Charles Moore, led police to Lesico Laboratories where they believe they have found the man whom Hellberg was convicted of killing back in 2011. The bizarre part… he’s not dead.”

  Heads would start rolling now.

  “Breaking news, missing Valley State prison inmate, Rena Hellberg, has been found. Yesterday morning, authorities were led to Lesico Laboratories where they recovered a man claiming to be her murder victim, Derek Bennett. The man was reportedly suffering from a gunshot wound and was taken to an area hospital where police questioned him about Hellberg’s whereabouts. That’s when he pointed investigators to the same testing facility where he claims Lesico employees forced him and at least twenty other subjects to undergo illegal drug trials for the past two years. The resulting search not only produced Hellberg, but also a number of dead bodies found in a cold storage unit. Tests are being performed on those bodies to determine time and cause of death. The task force assigned to the case made no further comment, but we learned that the pharmaceutical company has been shut down pending further investigation.”

  Brilliant. Derek had effectively killed three birds with one stone. The ones responsible for manipulating Rena’s condition inside the prison walls were getting what they deserved, Lesico Labs would be thrown into a full investigation for illegal human drug testing, and Sophie’s own people had unwittingly killed the poisoned ghosts before they could recover. And, with Crystal at the helm of IGP’s technical department, no telling what other crimes would rise to the surface. Surely enough to close Lesico’s doors for good.

  With a full belly and a soft cushion beneath his backside, Ty dozed, lulled by the sound of screaming baseball fans and atmospheric play-by-play commentary.

  Moments later, he woke to breaking news and a whole lot of loud objection from the four firemen who wanted to continue watching the game.

  “Oh, come on!” one shouted. “This lady gets more airtime than a 747!”

  “Hey, aren’t they airing the same game on ESPN?”

  Just when he picked up the remote to turn the channel, Ty scrambled out of his chair. “Wait! I want to hear this!”

  Mouths fell open and everyone quieted.

  “After a full psychiatric evaluation, court appointed psychiatrists have declared Rena Hellberg fit to reenter society. In light of new evidence, Judge Mahoney had no choice but to vacate Hellberg’s twenty-five-year prison sentence, and without objection from prosecutors, she was released into the care of family members this morning.”

  Just when the camera switched over to someone on location, the overhead tone blared out an emergency. Guys sprang out of their chairs. Chewie barked and pranced out his excitement. Footsteps echoed in the stairwell as the basement training room was vacated by two other firefighters.

  “Shit!” Ty aimed the remote and turned up the volume. Why did this have to happen right now?

  Sam Pruitt, one of their two drivers, spotted him on the way out and shouted, “Good of you to show up today, Ferg!”

  Effectively reminded of his duties, Ty swore again and abandoned the newscast. Pruitt held the door, waited for Ty to pass, then delivered a mind-numbing slap on the back.

  Holy fucking shit that hurt. But Ty suspected the guys were privy to his discomfort and exercised their usual sick sense of humor. Testing his salt to see if he was capable of coming through for them when it counted.

  The hell if he wasn’t. Things in his body were changing for the better, hidden nooks and crannies he never knew of were coming alive. The pain was secondary, insignificant against a competing, concentrated sense of dexterity.

  Unless someone slapped the shit out of him.

  He looked back just long enough to give Chewie his usual salute. The dog parked his rear on the garage floor, and Ty knew that’s where he’d be when they returned.

  Ventilation hoses were disconnected, engines fired, doors came open. Both trucks meant this was a fire call. His set of bunker gear waited for him on the spotless floor by the ladder truck where he’d be riding backwards that day. Heart racing, Ty no longer felt pain as he stepped into his boots and drew the trousers up by the suspenders. He climbed aboard with coat in hand.

  “Hey, Ferguson, isn’t this your address?”

  Ty froze with one arm through a three-layer sleeve as the truck rolled out of the station. The lieutenant read back the address a second time from the front passenger seat.

  “Dispatch says it’s a fire alarm. You leave the coffee pot on?”

  The sirens came on just before entering traffic.

  Anxiety burned at Ty’s insides. “I don’t have a coffee pot.”

  As his sense of urgency tripled, he secured his coat and strapped into the quick-release oxygen tank stored in the seatback. Whether it proved to be a false alarm or not, the gear would go in with him, wouldn’t come off until the area was checked and cleared.

  The engine truck was in front, screaming through traffic, leading the way to his house. This was something Ty had always feared, a nightmare no firefighter wanted to experience. He searched the horizon, but saw no smoke, which was a good sign.

  As they closed the distance, an unwanted thought niggled at the back of his brain, accompanied by a dark, weighted suspicion.

  Sirens were cut as the trucks came to a stop. Red lights flashed, men piled out in full gear, but Ty held them off as he donned his helmet. “Let me go in first,” he yelled over the engine noise. The other six men agreed since the thermal imaging camera showed nothing suspicious.

  Carrying an ax and seventy-five pounds of added weight, Ty walked up to his front door, fumbled with the keys. Before entry, he caught a whiff of smoke. For a split second, he considered the possibility he’d been wrong.

  He closed the door behind him, looked around as he walked through. It was hazy, and the smell would suggest a kitchen fire. Sure enough, one of his cast iron skillets had mysteriously found
it’s way into the sink. He lifted it, noted the fine coating of soot that transferred onto his glove.

  “Crystal!” he yelled, anger taking hold. “Are you here?”

  “She left twenty minutes ago,” a voice said behind him.

  Ty abandoned the skillet and turned. The ax nearly slipped from his grasp as he encountered a pair of stunning sapphire eyes.

  Wearing his favorite T-shirt and an evocative smile, Rena leaned against the bar with an underlying effervescence that had been missing before. “So. You really are a fireman.”

  Her glorious raven hair was piled high. Dramatic curves filled out his clothes in a way that begged to be owned. She’d made herself right at home.

  A surge of lust momentarily dissolved his anger, but he held onto it for the sake of self-preservation. “I should have known,” he muttered, moving his attention to the condition of his stove top. “Manipulation is your specialty, not Crystal’s.”

  Rena’s look faltered. “It was an accident.” She circled around the bar and proceeded to fill a glass with water from the fridge. “But, I’ll admit I wanted to see you.”

  Ignoring the pill she held out for him, he ran a gloved finger over the contents of his dry chemical fire extinguisher. “I’m done with Nexifen,” he declared with riotous indignation. “And last I checked, arson was illegal.”

  She cocked her head, urged him to take the pill. “It was an accident, Ty.”

  Boy she was a piece of work, no culpability whatsoever. Ty left the carnage of his kitchen and put some distance between them. “I said I’m done. With all of it.”

  He stopped when he noticed the firefighter calendar on the coffee table. She must have found it in the office wastebasket and it was now splayed open to the month of February. There he was, handling a chop-saw in nothing but flexed muscles, thick yellow trousers, drooping suspenders and a hint of designer underwear. He’d even shaved his chest that day. Standing there, looking down at it, knowing she was mocking him yet again, he felt more foolish than ever. “What the hell is this?”

  Hands behind her back, Rena blinked and smiled. “I have a crush on Mr. February.”

  He searched his memory of the day they met. The look of disgust on her face when Mel had told her of his involvement with the calendar. “You called me an opportunist.”

  Rena waved a hand as if to dismiss his claim. “You said it was for charity.”

  So she believed him now? “This isn’t a game, Rena,” he growled. “I feel like a dickhead standing in my own house with all my shit on, not to mention the two trucks and six other firemen outside.”

  Her brows went up as she scanned the length of him. “I gotta say… you look really, really hot with all your shit on.”

  Christ. He swept the helmet off his sweaty hair and tucked it under an arm. “It won’t work. I had a very shitty weekend and I’m too tired to deal with you.”

  She approached, long legs crisscrossing suggestively. “It wasn’t all shitty.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “That flirty thing you do. I’m not falling for it anymore.”

  “Ty….”

  When she reached out a hand, he backed away, pointed his ax at her. “No! You hurt—I mean, I hurt. I hurt everywhere because of you.”

  Rena stopped next to his leather couch and bestowed him with a devout look of apology. “I know. Derek told me what happened and I want to make it up to you.”

  His shoulders dropped with mock humor. “I think I’ll pass. No more roller coaster rides for this guy. Just… do me a favor and pull your disappearing act before I come back inside. I won’t be alone this time.”

  Red lights flashed through the windows. He turned his back on her and headed for the exit.

  “Ty, please….”

  Just keep walking, Ferguson.

  “I’m sorry.” Her tone had changed to borderline desperation.

  Just a few more steps….

  “I don’t want to do this without you.”

  No, don’t stop! What the fuck are you doing? Ty banged his head against the door and dropped the ax on the welcome mat. When Rena touched his coat, he clung to the irony of being geared up for one hell of an inferno.

  “I know I screwed up,” she said with a firm voice. “I know it wasn’t always Rafferty’s fault. But I’ve been given a second chance and I’m half afraid to trust it. Hell, I’m scared to death. I just….”

  He waited, willing himself against the hypnotic elements of her words.

  “You get me, Ty. I feel better when I’m with you.”

  “Well, I don’t,” he answered honestly. “I’ve never met a woman more dangerous than you.” He pushed off from the door and turned to her, bore down with his helmet still tucked under an arm. “Since you’ve come into my life, I have been knocked out, tied up, taken against my will, kicked in the Johnson twice, nailed in the face with an oar, and lets not forget blown up.”

  She attempted to touch the bruise beneath his left eye. Ty reared back, grabbed her hand. “All I ever did was try to help you, Rena.”

  “I know.”

  “And I do get you. You sense when a man is weak and you go for the jugular with everything you’ve got.”

  “That isn’t—”

  “Well, I’m not weak. I’m not a pushover. And I will no longer be manipulated by you. Now, go hide so my lieutenant can do a quick inspection.”

  As if she hadn’t heard a word, an impish smile played upon her lips. “I can be naked when you get home later.”

  And there came the inferno, only his thermal layers kept the flames in, not out. Air. He needed air. Without a thing left to say, he simply turned, picked up the ax and left.

  Moments later when he came back with Leonard, Rena was nowhere in sight. A shaft of disappointment clawed at his insides, which he deliberately ignored. In fact, he should be relieved that she’d listened for once.

  At least the heat had gone down some now that he’d shed half his bunker gear.

  “So, it was a woman?” Leonard asked, having seen the private exchange on the thermal camera.

  “Yep.”

  “You didn’t know she was here?”

  “I thought she’d left.” It was a partial truth, after all.

  The man spared a disinterested glance toward the kitchen. “Looks legit. She okay?”

  “She’s fine, can we go?”

  “Stove’s a little charred.”

  Ty knew why Leonard stalled and made one more attempt to usher the man out. “It’ll wash. We should get back in case we get a real emergency,” he said for emphasis, in case she was listening.

  But as Ty made for the front door, Leonard went straight for the closed doors of his office. “Ferguson, I’m tellin’ ya, you need to quit the groupies. Settle down. Roxanne worries about you.”

  Momentary panic set in as the room was opened up. But Rena was nowhere in sight. “Tell your wife I’ll be fine,” Ty replied, making a quick check behind the door. “She has her hands full with you.”

  Leonard scoped out the goods on the shelves, shopping as usual. “Cheap shot.” The man picked up an action figure from the packing table. “Hey, this is new. Twelve inch?”

  The scale model firefighter was a toy that had still been in its original box when Ty left for work that morning. Proof that Rena had been quite busy before he arrived. “Uh-huh.”

  “How much?”

  Something at the desk caught Ty’s eye. “It’s already sold.” He moved toward it, focused on the computer screen. “I meant to ship it last week, but I got caught up in something.” Like Derek and Rena’s apocalyptic liberation scheme.

  Leonard gently set the figure back down. “Prick. Let me know if you come across another one.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Ty said distractedly. “Go on, I’ll be out in a minute.”

  The man yelled something else on his way out of the house, but Ty failed to process it as he leaned toward the
open document on the screen.

  Ty,

  I never thought you were weak. In fact, it was your strength that drew me in from the start, no matter how much I denied it. You took me on, you believed in me and, more importantly, you survived me. Because of that, I am free.

  Thank you for everything. You will

  The cursor blinked at the end of the unfinished sentence. He’ll what? Dammit, nothing frustrated him more than an unfinished sentence. She must have been typing this out when Leonard walked in. But that would mean….

  Ty straightened, eyes forward. He opened his mouth, but she answered before he could pose the question.

  “You will always be my hero.”

  Drawing a deep breath, he looked over and saw her, plastered against the wall behind the bookshelf, hiding as he’d ordered.

  Still hiding, even though she was now free. It wasn’t right. And it was then Ty knew, somewhere along the way, her freedom had become more important than his own. Because they were connected in a way he’d never felt with any other woman.

  His longing for her intensified as he closed the distance between them. He planted both hands firmly beside her head, effectively boxing her in with his body while he warred with his emotions. The words he wanted to say hovered over his tongue, but he stopped them out of fear. To fully open his heart was to fully trust her, and that would take time.

  Time to grow. Time to relax. Time to laugh, and to experiment with what they had. So, he gathered her close and rested his forehead against hers in order to hide the truth in his eyes.

  Rena took his face in her hands, begged him open up. “Please, Ty,” she whispered. “Tell me what to do.”

  In that moment, everything around him faded away as he willingly fell under her sapphire spell. Head first.

  “You can promise me something,” he whispered back.

  She expelled a wobbly breath. “Anything.”

  He could tell she meant it. The set of her shoulders indicated she was preparing for rejection, or a test of some kind, but was also willing to comply.