Through Smoke: The Troubled Heroes Series

by J. R. Tate

  Michael showing up at her place had made her day. She felt so stupid in kissing him. He never came out and said he wanted to take her back, she had just assumed it by his presence. Why did she make the first move? She never was a person to regret things, and honestly, those few minutes on the couch when Michael was on top of her felt so good and so right that she probably would have done it again. Why had he backed off?

  She sat back down on the couch, leaning on the pillow where Michael previously was. A slight scent of his cologne still lingered in the fabric. Now was the time she needed to be there for him, more than ever. She had to prove he wasn’t sharing her with anyone. She at least wanted to salvage their friendship.

  Michael stopped off at a bar near his apartment before going back home. He was so restless that the thought of being back in the confines of his home was driving him crazy. He had told himself a thousand times to avoid drinking, that he needed to stay sober and avoid getting back into a slump like he did when he was younger, but he couldn’t resist the neon signs advertising various drinks.

  He sat at the far end of the bar near some pool tables and eyed a couple of bikers just finishing a round. The bartender was quick to get to him and he ordered a double shot of whiskey. Staring at the glass, he debated with himself. What good would drinking the alcohol do? For one, it would take the edge off of the pain he was feeling. Michael traced the tip of his index finger over the rim of the glass. The mixtures of smoke and alcohol burned his nostrils. Looking up, he watched the different groups of people at the bar. Were they going through hardships as well? What were all these people doing here in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday?

  “Hey kid, you gonna drink that?”

  An elderly man’s voice caught Michael’s attention and he turned to see a balding guy with a flannel coat right next to him, his stare going from the TV and back to him.

  “What’s that?” Michael arched his eyebrow and cupped his hand around the base of the shot glass.

  “I said, are you gonna drink that? Awful waste of money to get that poured and leave it there.”

  Michael could have sworn he had seen the man before. “Yeah, yeah, I’m gonna drink it. What’s it to you?”

  “You just seem hesitant, that’s all. Take it from someone who’s been there, if you’ve got doubts, don’t do it. You got nothing to lose if you never touch alcohol to your lips again.”

  Michael scoffed and looked down, eyeing the amber liquid. “I don’t think you’ve been where I am, Mister.”

  The old man sipped on his beer and patted Michael on the back. “Every man has been down the very road you’re on right now. It might not be the same events taking place, but he’s been faced with tribulations. Don’t think you’re alone. Trust me, you won’t gain anything by drinking that.” He pointed a crooked finger down at the drink. “But what do I know? I’m just an old guy who’s lived for eighty years.” He winked and turned his attention back to the TV.

  Michael glared at him. He could have got defensive and reprimanded him for getting in his business, but he bit his tongue. Even if he was a weird person, he had a point. He was no better than Casey and his drug addict friends. Drinking the whiskey would only temporarily take his problems away. Tomorrow he would wake up with the same shit and a hangover to go with it.

  Pulling out his wallet, he slapped a ten-dollar bill down on the bar and nodded at the stranger. The bar visit was a minor detour on his way back home. He had to find an alternate way to blow off some steam.

  Chapter Eleven

  “So, apparently we were lucky to have yesterday off.” Darryl placed a fresh cup of coffee in front of Michael and he wished he had the energy his friend had in the mornings. He felt hungover and he didn’t even drink.

  “Why’s that?” He sipped on the drink, feeling its warmth all the way down to his stomach.

  Darryl sat down and grabbed a section of the paper that Michael was done with. “They had three warehouse fires. Three. Can you believe that crap?”

  Michael looked over the top of the New York Times. “Yeah, there was an article about the sudden outbreak of fires in Hell’s Kitchen. The Fire Investigator isn’t ruling out arson.”

  “Hell, I wouldn’t either. Three in the same neighborhood within twenty-four hours doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me. Someone is pissed off about something.” Darryl paused and jammed his fork in his eggs. “So the Mets and Yankees are playing their series at the end of the week. What do you say we try and get tickets to one of them? We have that Friday off and it’s an afternoon game.”

  Darryl’s question was like a punch to Michael’s stomach. Usually the Mets and Yankees series was a big deal and he would never turn it down, but this year it held an all-new meaning. Frankly, he wasn’t sure what would happen if it went either way. Viper let it be known that the bet wouldn’t get Casey or him for that matter, out of hot water.

  “Damn, is that already this week? Are they playing in Queens or The Bronx?” Michael knew exactly where they were playing but he was trying to buy time to think up an excuse why he couldn’t go. He’d be a madman in the bleachers. It would be odd to root for the Yankees anyway, especially since he never did that before.

  Darryl looked at him as if he were from another planet. “Queens. It’s the same every year, Mikey. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

  Michael folded the paper and tossed it aside. “I’m fine.”

  “Well? Let’s make a day out of it.”

  Michael adjusted his hat and raked his hand through his hair. “Gonna have to pass this year. Sorry. My mom is having this get together and I can’t miss it.” He felt guilty for lying but it was the quickest excuse he could muster up.

  “Your mother? You’ve seen your mother like four times in the last three years.”

  Michael nodded and finished his coffee. “My point exactly. I need to see her.” He stood up and walked to the living room. He wasn’t doing too well with the lying and had to get away from him.

  “It’s the Mets and the Yankees, Mikey!”

  “Ladder Twenty One, please respond to Forty Second and Eleven.”

  Michael turned around before he ever reached the couch, groaning as he neared the pole. “Forty Second and Eleven. That’s near the warehouses along the river. Looks like it might be one of those days again.”

  Darryl patted his shoulder. “Only if we’re lucky.”

  Thankfully the J and M warehouse had been abandoned for years. The fire was contained on the first floor and was quickly put out. The building would probably be condemned and knocked down. Michael always wondered why they bothered with fighting the fire in places like that. It would be doing the city a favor by allowing it to just burn to the ground.

  “Looks like the same burn pattern as the fires yesterday.”

  Michael looked at the fire investigator from the corner of his eye, and back to the building, still smoldering. “So it’s arson?”

  “Can’t officially say that yet. If it is though, whoever is setting these is doing the basics to get the fires going. Gasoline trail. Nothing over the top or out of the ordinary. And it looks to me as if they want Ladder Twenty-One to stay busy. All in your precinct.”

  Darryl lit a cigarette and offered each of them one, both declining. “Sounds like more than a coincidence to me.”

  The fire investigator nodded and walked toward the building. “As soon as I find some solid evidence, your company will be the first to know. Until then, get some rest. I have a feeling it’s gonna be another long day ahead.”

  “There is a positive way to look at this.” Michael walked toward the building as well, the smoke strong in the air.

  “What’s that?”

  “Arsonists keep us in business. We all need that job security.” Out of all the negativity lately, Michael was surprised that he was finding optimism and humor in this. At least he would stay busy today and that would aid in keeping everything else off of his mind.

  Darryl smirked and let out a
laugh. “Shut the hell up and start the secondary search.”

  The shift ended with a total of two warehouse fires in the vicinity of Hell’s Kitchen. Michael felt bad for the arson investigators, and he could only hope they would soon figure out exactly what was going on. It was too much of a coincidence for this to not be intentional fires. He hated the fact that they wouldn’t officially label the incidences as arson. Any person with half a brain knew what was happening.

  He was thankful he hadn’t run into Eva all day. He felt like such an ass for what had happened yesterday. She had been on a couple of calls but they were all so busy that he didn’t even have a chance to look in her direction.

  Walking down the stairs, Michael tried to avoid anyone if at all possible. It was seven forty five and he wanted to draw as little attention to himself. If he ran into Eva, he had no idea what he would say. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid from the beginning. Having an awkward relationship with someone at work made him dread going to work.

  After stopping off at a corner bodega, he made it home a little after eight. He made the trek up his stairs, heart pounding as he neared the hallway to his apartment. He wasn’t sure if he would run into Viper. Just what he wanted, to live his life looking over his shoulder for a druggy that was cracked out of his mind. Michael looked up and down the hallway. There was no sign of Viper. Taking in a deep breath, he unlocked his front door and stopped in mid step, glancing through his living room and kitchen. Everything was untouched. Letting out a deep sigh, he threw the sack full of food on his bar and sat at one of the stools, looking down at the floor.

  He couldn’t remember a time when there wasn’t something haunting him. He walked to his room and paused at his dresser. He stared at the plaques and picture he had of his father. His father would have never allowed for anything like this to happen. He ran his fingers over the frame. What would he have done if a bookie were after him? Michael scoffed to himself. That wouldn’t have happened, not to him. If he could be half the man his father was he would be set in life.

  “Damn you for dying,” Mikey whispered as he fell back on his bed. It was a damn shame he didn’t get to know him better.

  Michael sat down at the table and read over the headline on the front page about ten times before he actually comprehended it. The investigation of the five recent fires had been ruled arson. Not like it was a shock, but it was the quickest ruling he had seen in his years with the FDNY. He sipped on his coffee and skimmed the article. No one had a clue as to who was responsible for setting them. There were no suspects and no clues, except that in each fire, gasoline had been used. Of course, gasoline, the most common thing someone could get their hands on.

  “I should’ve known you’d have the information on the fires.” Darryl patted his shoulder. “Until they find this jackass we’re gonna be running ragged. They gotta find us some help today. All of the Hell’s Kitchen companies are exhausted.”

  Michael shrugged. “Maybe the torch will find another borough today. Keep the police guessing.”

  “We could only be so lucky. Man, I can’t wait for my vacation next week. Couldn’t have come soon enough.” Darryl poured himself some cereal. “You ever notice that right before a vacation, things are as hectic as hell?”

  Michael let out a low laugh. “I guess that’s code.” He paused and rolled the newspaper up. “It’ll be alright. Arsonists slip up or get bored. Eventually they’ll get caught or just fade off when they run out of things to burn.”

  “Don’t be crazy, Hell’s Kitchen is one huge ass dumpster. There’s enough crap here to burn for years.”

  Michael tossed the paper in the trash. “Hey buddy, if we’re gonna rely on me being the optimistic one today, we’re gonna have some problems. It’ll be okay.” It even caught Michael off guard that he was in somewhat of a good mood. Maybe it was the fact that Viper hadn’t contacted him in several days.

  The fire alarm went off, reporting a call to a fire in a warehouse.

  Darryl eyed Michael and arched his eyebrow. “Here we go, buddy.”

  “It’s another damn warehouse. We oughta be pro’s at those now.”

  It took them a few minutes to get to the call. It felt strange that Darryl was acting so grumpy. They all had their days.

  “From what we’ve heard from witnesses, there’s no one inside.” Captain Rooker looked from the building and back to them. “Since it’s abandoned, no one goes in without a hose.”

  “My sister is up there!”

  Michael heard a faint yell over the roaring flames. He saw a young girl running toward them, her face tattered with soot and her hair matted down. “What floor is she on?”

  “The third! Hurry! She’s not awake!” The girl pointed up toward a window. Michael didn’t even wait on orders and ran toward the warehouse. Darryl followed behind him. His attention was so focused on finding the girl that he didn’t even take notice to how intense the fire was.

  Legs burning, he sprinted up the steps, his mind on the third floor. “Mikey, slow down man.” Darryl’s exasperated voice echoed through the radio. “We might not even be able to get in this way.”

  Michael ignored his partner and busted through a barricade, the heat licking at his legs. Sweat poured down his brow, stinging his eyes. He scanned the room where the other girl had said her sister was. There was no movement through the smoke.

  “Hello, is anyone here?” Michael shoved some boxes aside. Glancing behind him, he expected to see Darryl but there was no sign of him. “If anyone is here try to make some noise?” He paused and waited, but nothing happened.

  “McGinnis, we need to evacuate. The building is about to collapse.” The Captain’s voice was tinny. “That’s an order! You and Darryl get out!”

  Michael ignored his superior and continued to walk through. His heart skipped a beat when he saw a motionless body barricaded under several layers of blankets. He quickly ripped them off, instantly checking her pulse. It was weak but present. Without hesitation he pulled his mask off, allowing for her to breathe in some fresh air. She was still unconscious and he didn’t have time for medical assessment. They had to get out.

  He queued his radio. “Ladder Twenty One, McGinnis headed down with one civilian. Darryl, what’s your location?” He released the button but only static was returned. “Darryl, what is your location?”

  “Get the victim out now, McGinnis! The foundation is unstable.” The Captain was furious.

  “Ten four, we’re headed out.” He hoisted the girl over his shoulder and went back down the way he had come up. The flames were growing higher. Michael could feel the floor shuttering beneath him. It was as if any more weight got added that the building would just crumble like a pile of dirt. The loud rumble was like a freight train. The girl was like dead weight on him. He fought through the pain and stinging lungs. The exit was a few steps away. A part of him didn’t want to leave, and if it weren’t for the civilian, he would have stayed to find out about Darryl.

  They got outside and the paramedics instantly took her off of his back. Eva nodded at him, but went straight to work on her. Michael took a step toward the building when he realized that Darryl had yet to come out. Before he could get any closer, the factory began to creak and moan. The top two stories toppled down into the towering flames. The last location Darryl was known to be at was the third, a floor that was still okay for the time being.

  “I gotta go get him.” Michael could hear all of the other firefighters screaming at him. He ignored the warnings and went in, going straight to the staircase where Darryl said to slow down. More had collapsed than Michael had anticipated. Darryl was buried under some concrete and rebar wire.

  “Darryl! Can you hear me?” He began to pull off the heavy pieces, his adrenaline taking over, allowing him to move debris he usually would have never been able to do on his own. He wasn’t sure how much longer the building would hold up. Two other firefighters had followed and began helping him.

  Michael was beginning to f
eel extreme doubt that they would even get to Darryl before it collapsed. Captain Rooker was yelling over the radio, demanding that they all evacuate the building, but Michael couldn’t bring himself to do it. Darryl would never leave him behind.

  His legs burned as he continued pulling wood and metal off of Darryl’s body. There was no movement coming from Darryl. Michael was oblivious to everything around him and didn’t realize that half of the ceiling was beginning to cave in. It didn’t matter. Either he was getting Darryl out or he would die in here with him. He refused to leave his best friend behind.

  After what seemed like an eternity, they got him uncovered, and just in time. It was all a blur to Michael. The cool air hit him hard as they lifted Darryl’s limp body toward the ambulance. They had all gotten out seconds before the entire factory imploded. If it weren’t for the fact that several of the people out on the street pointed it out, he would have never realized that the building was completely gone. His focus was on his partner. Two paramedics tried to take Darryl from him, but he continued to aid in getting him on the stretcher. He didn’t want to let go in fear that something else would go wrong. The medics went to work on him and it took several seconds before Michael fully let go. Darryl’s hands were already cold and a sense of dread settled in the pit of Michael’s stomach.

  He followed the ambulance a few steps as it drove off, fighting the urge to cry. He had to stay strong and be positive.

  “C’mon McGinnis, let’s head over to the hospital. There’s nothing more we can do here.”

  Ladder Twenty-One was called off of the fire and the entire company was at Mercy Hospital. The room was full of men, but a pin drop could be heard. Michael eyed the TV that was on mute. There was a breaking news story on about the outbreak of warehouse fires in Hell’s Kitchen. He felt an arm on his shoulder and turned abruptly, seeing Eva beside him.

  “Mikey…” She swiped a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You need anything?” Her voice was low. “Coffee or something?”