by Liz Talley
Eva pushed through the door that led into the garage. Smoke boiled out and a blaze erupted with the feed of oxygen. Eva stepped back, shutting the door. She could see nothing and didn’t want to feed the fire. “Garage still hot.”
Hank’s voice chilled her. “FD2, dispatch confirms owner is likely in the building.”
“Shit,” Eva said, not even bothering to keep that expletive to herself. “I’m opening the garage.”
Dutch moved beside her. “FD3 assisting. Right side knocked down. Support taking over.”
Eva felt Dutch at her back. She turned and met his gaze. He nodded. He was ready.
Eva opened the door, and Dutch stepped into the threshold using the stream to knock down the immediate flaring as the oxygen once again hit the still-burning tires. It looked like a movie set with the immediate flare.
Working quickly, Eva made her way to the area that held an old metal desk. She got her tires rotated here so she knew where Jimbo and his guys sat when they smoked and shot the bull.
Sure enough, Jimbo lay beneath the desk in an area that thankfully hadn’t received much blaze. The smoke, however, was thick, and she needed to get Jimbo out. Eva reached him, noting the door that led out back was only about eight feet away. She couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not, but Jimbo looked like a dead man. Her heart thumped in her ears as she jostled him. He didn’t respond. He was completely unconscious.
“Visual made. Jimbo’s down. Request emergency medical.”
“Already on scene. We’re sending guys in.”
Dutch couldn’t leave the blaze. Eva would have to get Jimbo out of there herself. Eva moved her gloved hands down Jimbo’s torso. He most likely wore a T-shirt, and though he was a big man and outweighed her by a good one hundred pounds, if he wore a belt she could drag him with the Bowring tool. Her hand met no resistance. He either wore athletic shorts or even boxers. Nothing to attach the Bowring to for leverage.
“Goddamn it,” she muttered, reaching for the two-inch-wide webbing strapped to her coat. The length stretched twenty feet and was handy for drag rescues. Eva unrolled the webbing, her breathing sounding more rapid in her ears. She used every fiber of her strength to slide the webbing beneath Jimbo, and then she rocked him the other way so she could wrap it under his arms. Tying a quick overhanded knot, she straddled the man and measured the remaining length to even with her face mask. She made a quick overhand knot then divided the segment between the two knots. Lying across Jimbo, she slid the loop around her face piece and helmet and swam one arm through the opening. Then she rocked back so the webbing was secure around her neck. Once the webbing was in the correct place, she crouched like a tiger, keeping her back straight. She lifted with her legs, shoving one hand beneath the knot sitting atop Jimbo’s chest, and then she started walking toward the door.
Jimbo felt like a ton of bricks as she shuffled slowly, knowing that if she tripped or fell, his life was in the balance. Hell, he might already be dead, but she would damn sure get him out the way she’d been taught.
The door was only a few feet away when the roof caved.
Eva felt a beam hit her shoulder, and she fell on top of Jimbo.
“Dutch!” she screamed into her mic.
“Here,” he said. “Where are you? I can’t see you, Eva.” Dutch yelled into the mic, abandoning protocol.
Another shifting occurred and something else fell, some large piece of equipment and it knocked Eva’s helmet and mask off.
Acrid smoke enveloped her.
Don’t panic. Don’t panic.
Her eyes stung and her body ignored the dictates of her mind as she gulped for air, drawing in smoke. It burned like lava.
Coughing, she tried to push the debris off them. Water poured in, splashing into her eyes but clearing out some of the smoke. Still she couldn’t breathe. She gulped for air and all she got was smoke.
She felt her body weakening, her vision narrowing. Jimbo lay to her right. She was certain her legs lay on him. She had to find her mask. She needed the oxygen. They could both die if she didn’t. Desperately she clawed to find her SCBA mask but she couldn’t find it. “Duuu…”
Trying to call Dutch felt futile. Her words wouldn’t come and all she could do was gasp for precious air.
But it wasn’t there.
She felt herself spiraling into nothingness.
Opening and shutting her mouth, she tried to scream but it was too late. She’d taken in too much smoke. Her lungs burned, her vision blurred. Gulping in more smoke, she succumbed.
And then there was nothing but hot darkness.
*
JAKE WAS EATING dinner at the Golden Wheel Diner when he heard the sirens. He usually carried his radio with him, even when he wasn’t on duty, but tonight he’d left it in his truck. He needed to do some thinking, and the constant chatter on the emergency network was distracting. So he’d left it.
At first he crooked an ear toward the door, assuming it was something small. Maybe a wreck or perhaps someone had set an alarm off. So he stuck to pushing around the dry mashed potatoes on his blue-plate special, but then he heard the other truck…and then another.
Tossing a ten-dollar bill onto the table, he yelled to Art, “Gotta run, man. This should cover it.”
Art waved a tired hand his way. “No worries. Go see what the fuss is.”
Jake pushed out the glass door and hurried to his truck. Once there, he flipped on his radio. Jimbo had set off the alarm again all right, but this time he’d done a doozie of a job. Three-alarm blaze.
They hadn’t had one of those in almost a year. Immediately his heart started pounding.
Eva was on the scene.
Ah, come on, man. Eva is as capable as anyone. Actually, she’s more capable than half the department.
But rationalizing how prepared and tough Eva was did nothing to absolve the chunk of cement that was his gut. He pulled out the siren, popped it on the dashboard and gunned the engine, speeding out of the Golden Wheel, heading to the other side of town where Burlison Tire Center no doubt burned like a bitch.
Three minutes later he pulled up to chaos.
The place blazed bright, and the gray flannel smoke stretched a huge column into the dark sky. Several neighbors stood around, hurriedly dressed, their faces etched in worry. Frannie Burlinson stood clutching her robe in both hands, tears streaking her face as she watched Jake’s fellow firefighters work to knock down the fire. Looked to be hottest in the garage space, but the snorkel was doing work, pouring water into the structure.
Jake pushed past Guy Gordon, a captain on B shift. “Jimbo in there?”
“Yeah, Frannie said he got pissed about the Visa bill and told her she could sleep with her goddamn new purse.”
Jake eyed the fire. “Where’s Eva?”
Guy jabbed a gloved hand toward the garage. “She and Dutch went in to find Jimbo. They started initial assault.”
Jake felt that concrete brick in his gut break apart into panic. “Hank sent Eva in after Jimbo? That’s—”
“They were on the scene first,” Guy said, casting an incredulous look at Jake. “She’s doing her job. Saving Jimbo.”
He knew that. He still didn’t like it. Eva, for all her capabilities, was still…
No. He believed in Eva. He always had.
Jake jogged over to Hank. “What’s the status?”
“I don’t have time for this, Jake. I’m running the fire right now.” Hank turned away, barking commands into his mic. Hank was right. He didn’t have time.
Jake hung back, listening to Frannie sob and say things like, “I’m taking the purse back. I’m taking it back.”
Something about that broke his heart. The things people do and say to each other, that when it comes down to flames leaping against a deep sky, mean so little. Egos get in the way. Pride gets in the way.
He damn well knew that.
Hank worked a fire like a consummate professional. He remained calm, trusting his men—and woman—to
do the job. Jake watched as the flames surrendered to the massive influx of water. The monster was just about contained. Eva would come out. Dutch would come out…carrying a no doubt drunk Jimbo. It would be fine.
But then the garage roof caved in.
Onlookers screamed, firefighters lurched toward the structure. Jake felt as if he might pass out.
Eva was in there.
Eva.
Without thinking he ran toward the building.
“Hey, hey,” Hank yelled behind him.
All he could think about was Eva…and how he’d left things. He’d screwed up so badly and he had to get to her. Had to make sure she was safe and understood that he was a dumb-ass extraordinaire. She had to know he loved her and he’d been wrong. Just like Frannie, he had a lot of take-backs.
Just as he got to the crushed opening, someone caught him and pulled him back.
“Are you dog-shit crazy, man?” Moon said, yanking him around. “It’s still hot.”
“Eva’s in there.”
“I know. And we will get her out.” Moon tossed him aside like a bear tossing a pup. “Stay the hell back.”
Jake made another lunge and Moon bowed up. “Don’t make me knock you out, Jake. Stop getting in the way.”
Helpless to participate on any level, Jake moved back toward the trucks, his eyes never leaving the building. Some of the team had already pulled aside the blackened aluminum door that closed over the bay. It had melted into something that looked like a piece in a museum.
Jake’s radio squawked and he heard Dutch. “I’m clear. Eva, I can’t see you. Eva!”
The world widened then narrowed and Jake gulped the acrid air, bending over so he didn’t pass out.
God, Eva was down.
Down.
It was the worst thing a firefighter could hear. But to a firefighter who was in love with the one down, it was agony.
“Man down!” Dutch yelled into his mic.
“Goddamn it. Get in there,” Hank cried, running toward the structure, helping to pull the charred mess out of the garage.
A flashback of such vivid horror hit Jake. The flashing lights, the smell of hot metal, him stuck beneath the driver’s door, hearing Clint yell, “Help me. Oh, God, help me.”
Gas, blood, the sound of death.
Jake had tried to move Clint. Made things worse. So he lay like a pathetic coward, waiting for someone else to do what he could not.
But he wasn’t that man-child anymore.
He couldn’t stand and watch the woman he loved die because he couldn’t do what needed to be done.
Jake lunged toward Gary Winter, who stood at Engine One. “Give me your gloves.”
“Jake, I don’t think—”
“Give me your coat and gloves or I’ll beat the shit out of you right here.”
Gary’s eyes widened and then he shrugged out of his coat and gloves. “Jesus.”
“Yeah, call on him,” Jake said as he ran toward the building, swerving around to the left side where the back door could possibly be accessed.
Two volunteers were working on loosening the door from the crushed jamb.
“Let me help,” Jake said, bracing a tennis shoe against the frame. All of them pulled, sinews popping, teeth gritting, biceps screaming. The damn thing wouldn’t budge.
“Again,” Jake yelled.
They all pulled and then suddenly the door flew open and Dutch stood in the opening. The large man had kicked from the inside at the same time Jake and the others had been pulling. Draped over Dutch’s shoulder in a traditional fireman’s carry was Eva. In Dutch’s left hand he held webbing that supported an unconscious Jimbo. For the rest of his life, Jake knew he would remember Dutch’s face.
Mask streaked with soot, wet as a drowned kitten, and eyes burning with determination, Dutch walked out of the destroyed building and set Jimbo on the ground. Then he pulled Eva from his shoulder and cradling her, he ran toward the nearest ambulance.
“Eva! Oh, God, Eva,” Jake called, running after Dutch.
He passed a team of EMTs—two guys he’d taken classes with—on their way to Jimbo.
Dutch met the EMTs and lay Eva on the stretcher.
Her hair was plastered to her head and her face was almost completely covered with soot. But she was breathing. And coughing.
“She took in a lot of smoke. A big canister fell on her and knocked her air out,” Dutch told Manny Ruiz, the EMT clipping the pulse-ox clip on her finger.
Jake was shoved back as Manny’s partner, a woman he didn’t recognize, covered Eva’s mouth and nose with an oxygen mask. Then the woman started her evaluation, prying one of Eva’s eyes open to reveal a bloodshot eye.
“Mmm,” Eva groaned, her voice raspy as hell. She swatted at the woman.
“We’re trying to help you,” the EMT said to Eva, holding down her hand.
“Guuuh. Puuh,” Eva thrashed, ripping at the mask on her face.
“We’re gonna have to restrain her,” said the woman, whose tag read Mary.
Jake moved around to Eva’s head and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Relax, E. They’re going to help you. Relax, baby.”
And she did immediately, lowering her hands. She blinked her eyes, turning her head to look for him.
“I’m right here, baby. Dutch, too.” The man stood on the other side of Eva. “You’re safe. You did good, Eva,” Jake smoothed her hair back, making a shushing sound.
Manny shoved Dutch back and eyeballed Jake. “Let us do our job, guys.”
“Check her airway. Look for blistering and edema. She might need to be intubated,” Jake said, ignoring Manny. He’d had training in this. Knew the dangerous toxins that had entered Eva’s lungs. They had to combat the CO2 poisoning asap.
Manny turned to Dutch. “Get him out of here. I don’t run his show, he don’t run mine.”
Jake did as Manny said…only because Manny was the best EMT Jake had ever encountered. Dutch grabbed him by the neck. “Come on. Let them work. You can follow them in.”
He didn’t want to leave Eva, but he knew that he’d distract Manny and his team if he stayed. And Eva needed to get the best care at that moment.
Dutch looked about as tired as a man could look. When he got to the engine, he sat on the back, taking huge gulps of air. “Shit.”
Dutch rarely cussed.
“How bad?” Jake asked, swallowing the ache in his throat. The adrenaline still pumped, making his heart thump and his legs shake.
“Don’t know if Jimbo will make it. He was in there a while. Eva should be okay. Her mask got knocked off and I got to her within a minute. She was under part of the collapsed roof. Luckily I could move it. And dang if she hadn’t dragged Jimbo to the door using webbing. That Eva, she’s something.”
A truer statement had never been made.
“She dragged Jimbo to the door? He’s more than double her weight.”
Dutch managed a laugh. “She used that stair drag we practiced over the summer. Had the dang webbing tied over her and must have crawled to the door using her legs.”
Jake shook his head, keeping an eye on the paramedics. The other team had intubated Jimbo and were doing CPR. Frannie stood beside the ambulance, a study in grief. Over at the other unit, Manny and Mary were still working on Eva. They had oxygen on her but the paramedics hadn’t intubated. Five seconds after he noted all this, they started loading her in the back of the ambulance.
Behind him the Magnolia Bend Fire Department was moving the fan in to draw out smoke and reveal any hot spots. The snorkel truck had stopped pumping and the units were in the process of clearing the building.
“What about you?” Jake asked Dutch, fishing his keys from his pocket, preparing to follow the ambulance to the hospital in Baton Rouge.
“I’m good.”
“You should get checked out.”
“Nah. Nothing to check. I did my job.”
Jake set a hand on Dutch’s shoulder. “You saved Eva and Jimbo. You did more t
han your job.”
Dutch looked up at Jake. “Nah. This is what we do, man. Saving people is our job. How many people can say that’s in their job description?”
Clasping his friend’s shoulder, Jake gave a squeeze. Damn if he didn’t want to hug Dutch, but he knew that would embarrass him. Plus, Jeff Wheeler from the paper was headed toward Dutch, no doubt wanting a statement. Jake jerked his head toward the ambulance. “I’m following. I’ll call you once I know more about Eva and Jimbo.”
Dutch nodded, leaning over to clasp his knees once again, and Jake jogged toward the truck he’d left parked in the funeral home lot. On his way, he passed Chase and Cole, who leaned against their police cruiser. Chase pushed off and met him in the street.
“How is she?” Chase asked, his face etched with worry.
“She’s alive and conscious. They’re taking her to General.
Chase nodded. “Okay. Let me know if you need anything. She’s important to me.”
Jake didn’t exactly enjoy hearing that out of Chase’s mouth, but he understood. Eva, in only three years, had become a big part of their community, and even though she and Chase had called it quits, she was one of them. Friendly firefighter and police officer competition aside, Magnolia Bend’s emergency rescue personnel were a team.
Jake ran to his truck, hopping in and firing it, shifting fast to catch up with the ambulance that had already turned the corner toward Main Street. Hitting Bluetooth, Jake dialed his mother.
“Oh, my God, Jake. We heard. How is she?” Fancy cried, not even bothering with hello.
“En route to Baton Rouge General. I didn’t see any burns but she took in a lot of smoke. Won’t know the damage until they get her to the hospital.”
“Oh, my goodness. I can’t believe it. We haven’t told Charlie yet. I don’t even know what to say. That poor child has been through the ringer with his father dying, his mother doing whatever it is she did and now his sister…”
“Don’t say anything yet. Let me get there and see what’s going on and I’ll call you.” Jake accelerated up the on-ramp to I-10, heading toward Baton Rouge and the specialized unit that handled burn victims. The ambulance moved fast but the drive time allowed him to rein in the terror at having watched that roof fall, knowing Eva was inside. He’d never felt close to crumpling to the ground the way he had minutes earlier. Jake had never known how much it hurt, waiting to see if someone you loved would come out the other side. In that moment all reason had fled and instinct took over. He had to get to her.