Smoke Eaters

by Sean Grigsby

  “He’d be dead if it weren’t for you,” Afu told me as he shifted to get a better hold of my legs.

  “Twice,” Williams added. “We watched it all on the wall outside.”

  Puck remained silent.

  I had to hand it to the power suits. They were tough as hell. Unfortunately, I’d irreparably damaged the one I’d been wearing. Hopefully, the smoke eaters weren’t going to take it out of my paycheck.

  Before she left the lab, I asked Puck if it was fair to punish me, given that I’d killed the dragon and eliminated the backdraft.

  “Little Susie was the objective,” she said.

  I couldn’t hide the pissed-offness from my face. “Little Susie would be six feet in the ground if that was a real incident.”

  “Maybe,” she said. “Oh, I had a smoky retrieve your truck. It’s parked out front. I assumed you’d want it for the funeral today.”

  “My truck? So, you guys have added carjacking to your list of talents?”

  “Well, maybe you can give me fifty pushups to help you work out your issue with it.” With that, Puck left the lab.

  I turned to Yolanda as she came over with the bowl of blue goop. “Joke’s on her. It’ll be at least a month until I heal up.”

  “I hate to pop your balloon.” Yolanda smiled and held up the bowl. “But you’ll be good to go sometime this evening. Like nothing happened.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  She lifted my arm. My wrist looked like an eggplant, but the injection had taken the pain away. A spoonful at a time, she slabbed the blue stuff onto my wrist, and tiny, icy tingles rippled through my bones.

  “This solution,” Yolanda said, as she began to wrap my arm with gauze, “It’s like a super antihistamine and cell booster. It’s called Ieiunium curate.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “So… like… super healing?”

  “Close enough.”

  “Think you can rub some of that on my knee?”

  She shrugged and put some on the knee I’d pointed out. “Rub it in.”

  Yolanda was still wrapping my wrist when I heard a commotion outside the lab. Through the long window, I saw Naveena stomp past, at the edge of tears. Renfro chased behind her, holding out his hands like he was trying to console her, but his voice boomed like he was shouting.

  Naveena turned on Renfro and shoved him several feet away. The red-eyed man had to steady himself so as not to fall. Naveena had to be strong as hell to nearly topple a guy as big as Renfro.

  “Oh, my.” Yolanda said beside me, looking through the window.

  Naveena turned and stared into the lab, at me. But the fierce death glare I would have expected was missing. Instead, she looked… sad. And hurt. Not the pain I’d suffered with my wrist; this was deeper, something a spoonful of blue wonder gel wouldn’t be able to fix.

  I don’t know how I knew. Maybe it was that body language book I’d read.

  Naveena ran, but Renfro stayed, shaking his head.

  “You done with me?” I asked Yolanda.

  “Hm?” She turned. “Oh, yeah. You’re good to go.”

  “Thanks.”

  I stepped out into the hall. Renfro’s eyes glowed like coals in the fire. He tried to change his demeanor when he saw me, but it was too late.

  He pointed to my wrist. “What happened to you?”

  “I’ll be fine. What’s with Naveena?”

  He paused, mouth open, like he was about to lie or make an excuse, but then he sighed and crossed his arms. “You saw that, huh?”

  “Are you two…?”

  “No!” He shivered as if a draft blew in. Naveena was attractive enough that I wouldn’t have expected such a look of disgust. “A dragon call got to her. That’s all.”

  “Happens to the best of us.” I nodded.

  “It doesn’t happen to Naveena. I’ve never seen her like this.”

  “It hits hardest with the ones who put on a tough act. What happened?”

  He stared at me for a second – he could have been a hypnotist with those damn glowing eyes. “It was a kid,” he finally said.

  “Shit.”

  I’d had a few calls where a kid died. They haunt you like a wraith.

  “Little boy.” Renfro shook his head, almost crying. “We didn’t get to him in time and–”

  “You don’t have to talk about it.” I patted him on the shoulder.

  “Naveena went nuts on that dragon. Chopped it to hell. There was nothing left but a pile of meat and blood. She’s lost it. You think I have crazy-looking eyes? Look at hers. Off-the-rails-bat-shit lunatic.”

  “OK,” I said. “I get it.”

  “I told her that she needs to talk to someone. But she won’t listen to me. What worries me is that now she’s done killing that dragon, she’ll look for someone else to blame.”

  “And she’ll blame herself, right?”

  “Exactly.”

  I took a deep breath, wondering if I should step into the middle of this cesspit. I mean, it wasn’t like Naveena and I were best friends. We shared a room where I was afraid to say anything or even have my bed squeak.

  “Just give her a few days,” I said. “If she’s still like this, you can report it.”

  He clenched his teeth before saying, “I should report it now.”

  “No, man.” I waved that nonsense away. “You don’t want to dump betrayal on top of all the shit she’s dealing with right now. Just wait. I sleep in the same room. If I see an opportunity, I’ll…” I couldn’t believe what I was about to say. “… I’ll talk to her.”

  Renfro widened his glowing eyes. “For real?”

  “Yeah.”

  That seemed to put him at ease. He smiled a little and nodded once, like something had been fixed. “I appreciate you, Brannigan.”

  “Brotherhood,” I said, and made the long trip to my truck out front.

  Even though I’d griped at Puck about taking my truck without permission, I was glad to have a taste of my old life, on my way to say goodbye to my brother and sister firefighters. My bandaged wrist only hampered my steering a little, and as empty as the road was, it didn’t matter how recklessly I swerved. The drive gave me time to clear my head, although I kept imagining Theresa’s wraith every few minutes. But it wasn’t the schizoid image of her that DeShawn had set up his light show to avoid. I hadn’t lost my marbles yet. I knew the difference between ghosts of the mind and ones that could actually decapitate you, scanning each side of the road for any as I drove toward the city.

  Every so often a flash of orange deep in the distance would cause me to jerk my head in that direction, but the flames wouldn’t be there, and neither were any scaled monsters scurrying across the ash. I hoped it was just my imagination. It was pretty stupid to be driving out there by myself. If the dragons didn’t get me, the under-serviced roads would.

  I hammered the accelerator.

  A sizeable crowd had gathered outside the funeral home, and a whole row of fire apparatus took up most of the parking spaces, except for three that had been positioned directly outside the funeral home’s back door.

  Theresa’s last ride on the fire engine.

  Inside, a cluster of firefighters ribbed me about my smoke eater uniform and how it made me look like a walking pickle. I gigged them back with all the dirt I had on them. Then they asked how many dragons I’d killed. I just said I’d lost count.

  We did all this in hushed voices. It was par for a firefighter funeral, but we still wanted to be respectful.

  I shook the firefighter hands I needed to shake and asked the same old, “How have you been?” and “How long do you have until retirement?” That last question gave more than a few old firefighters pause; it soured their grapes. They smiled, of course, but didn’t answer, choosing instead to walk away to shake more hands and ask more bullshit, ceremonial questions they really didn’t care about knowing the answers to. I thought I’d been playing along like a good boy. But something was wrong.

  “
Glad you made it out, Cap.”

  I turned to see DeShawn dressed to the nines in a black, pin-striped suit, bald, brown head shining in the funeral home’s too-bright chandelier. He reminded me of one of those televangelists that used to be on the Feed, before Congress passed laws to ban them from media.

  “You know I’d be here.” I shook his hand.

  He smiled. “Theresa’s segment is first. Her husband asked me to give her eulogy. Said it would be fitting, since we were on the same crew and I’m going into the ministry anyway.”

  I cocked my head to the side and stared at his proud face for a second. “Are you sure that’s a good idea. I mean, with you and Theresa having been–”

  “I’ve repented of my sins. Well, I still have some things to check off, but overall, dub, I feel free.”

  “Yeah,” I dragged the word out as I tried to wrap my mind around his decision. “But I think preaching at a funeral for the woman you were,” I looked around for anyone close enough to hear, “banging adulterously is something the Lord wouldn’t like.”

  He put his hand on my shoulder. “I’m a different person now. I’m clean. This is my fresh start. And it’s a fresh start for you, too, yeah? As a smoke eater. Good thing. Mayor Rogola just signed every firefighter out the door this morning. This is their last week before the fire droids step in.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Nope. You and I got out just in time.”

  I wanted to scream, to break something, but I could only shake my head; my mouth drooped open. That’s why everyone was so miffed when I brought up retirement. They’d be getting pink slips instead.

  “Come on,” DeShawn said. “Find a seat. We’re going to start.”

  I found a seat by a female engineer that Sherry had once been murderously jealous of. It made no sense because the engineer, while being a hell of a driver and operator, was fifty pounds over my personal taste in women and played exclusively for the other team. A snowball would have a better chance inside a scaly’s throat than any man would have in getting into this engineer’s pants. But wives have their own logic.

  Holding gold-plated pickhead axes, our department’s honor guard stood at each side of Theresa’s closed casket. The casket floated above a platform that would allow easy transport out of the building and then onto the hose bed of the awaiting fire engine. My morbid mind wondered how much of Theresa’s burned corpse they’d been able to find before quarantining the neighborhood.

  When DeShawn walked behind the pulpit, the honor guard marched out with quiet steps.

  “Theresa Renee Parker,” DeShawn began, “was a firefighter.”

  “Yes!” came a cry from a woman behind me.

  DeShawn nodded, clearly enjoying himself.

  Some people turn to all sorts of drugs after a tragedy: cocaine, digital heroin, religion. But I think the last one is the most dangerous, because it doesn’t affect the physical body. It doesn’t affect the spirit either. But it does surge the ego to astronomical heights, to where you can’t help but see that every living thing is beneath you.

  DeShawn was a junkie, same as any other.

  “She cared for her city,” DeShawn said.

  More hoots of praise and agreement.

  DeShawn stepped away from the pulpit and raised a hand over Theresa’s casket. “She died so others might live!”

  This was getting ridiculous.

  I shifted in my seat, and looked behind me to the door. Several of Theresa’s family members were on their feet and raising their hands in the air. All we needed was a couple tambourines and we could start a band.

  “But I fear that to properly put her soul to rest,” DeShawn said, “I must confess something before all of you and God Almighty.”

  I shook my head furiously, trying to get DeShawn to look at me and catch the hint, but I think he was actively avoiding my line of sight.

  “Orlando,” DeShawn held hands out to Theresa’s husband, who had been crying softly to himself, but now showed the curiosity of an angry badger. “Theresa and I were sexually involved for the last couple years.”

  A scream sprang from behind me amid the shuffle of people stumbling over chairs, followed by a plop against the funeral home carpet. Someone had fainted.

  I stood to leave.

  “Please forgive us,” DeShawn said with a smile on his face, like he’d baked the poor widower a cake. “Theresa’s soul will be–”

  Orlando’s huge fist stopped DeShawn’s mouth from blathering on. Theresa’s husband had rushed DeShawn so quickly none of us could stop him. I can’t say DeShawn didn’t deserve the attack, and part of me thought he’d wanted this to happen, but when my former firefighter hit the ground and Orlando began kicking DeShawn’s side, I had to put a stop to it before I’d have to attend another damn funeral.

  More people shouted and scattered like ants while several firefighters stood against a wall and shared a flask as they watched the show.

  The kilt-wearing pipe and drum band marched in, adding the spine-shattering whine of bagpipes to the commotion. I didn’t know if the band had mistakenly received their cue to enter or if they knew this would be the last time they’d play a funeral and figured their musical styling went well with a kerfuffle. Orlando even began kicking DeShawn to the beat of the big drum.

  I grabbed both of Orlando’s shoulders, firmly but calmly. I only wanted to calm him down. But he was in full-on rage mode and immediately spun around, clocking me across the chin. The chaos inside the funeral home dropped to dead silence, and all eyes fell on me. I stood straight and flexed my fists, ignoring the ache vibrating through my head.

  The look I gave Orlando must have scared him pretty good, because he opened both hands to me in supplication. “Captain Brannigan, I didn’t mean it. I was just so mad. Please. I’m done now.”

  “You’re damn right you’re done!” I stomped over to DeShawn, trying to keep my balance. Orlando had a hell of a right hook.

  DeShawn looked up to me with blood staining his teeth. “My burden has been taken from me. I am a new man.”

  “Your ass got kicked,” I said. “And you’re a goddamned idiot.”

  “I’ll pray for you,” DeShawn said, the smile gone.

  “Yeah.” I helped him up and embraced him, the kind of squeeze you give someone you know you’re never going to see again.

  I turned and pushed my way through the crowd, back to my truck, and then Smoke Eater Headquarters where things made relatively more sense.

  DeShawn was right, though. The man I’d known, fought hell with, was gone, even though his body had made it out of that fire. Some people are so afraid of the darkness they’ll run headlong into the light and never realize it’s burnt them to a crisp.

  Chapter 14

  It was still early when I got back to headquarters, but my room was dark, and the hallway light showed Naveena under her covers, flat on her stomach. I watched to make sure she was still breathing, and then got into bed myself. Like Naveena, I wanted the day behind me as quickly as possible. I fell asleep.

  The thing about falling asleep early in the evening, at least for me, is that you end up wide awake at two o’clock in the morning, and after a dreamless sleep I sat up in my bed. Even in the darkness, without the aid of a clock, I was sure 2 AM was a good guess at the time.

  My holoreader said it was 1:48. Damn, I’m good.

  I turned and faced Naveena’s bed. Her breath rose and fell, slow and rhythmic, even though I couldn’t see her at all.

  All four of the room’s walls burst into a throbbing red glow while a shrill alarm bounced off them. Naveena didn’t stir, but the pulsing light showed she was facing me and her eyes were wide open. I might have spent more time wondering if she’d been staring at me the whole time, but instead I hurried over and knelt in front of her.

  Words scrolled around the room, across the walls – Naveena’s name and the address of some orphanage.

  Parentless kids were on the rise; so much so, the
government decided to do away with foster homes and make like it was the first depression by throwing masses of them into multi-storied buildings under the watchful robotic eyes of nanny droids.

  And now the dragons were visiting.

  “Naveena,” I shouted over the alarm. “You have a call.”

  She stared at me for another minute before sitting up violently and slapping her hand against the wall by her bed. After holding it there for a few seconds, the red light and alarm disappeared. Her bed squeaked as she lay back down and turned over.

  I raised my hands, even though she couldn’t see it. “What the fuck?”

  She didn’t respond.

  I tried again. “Those kids need you. You have to go.”

  Still nothing.

  I looked around in the dark, as if there was someone else around to convince her. Then I got a crazy idea and found my way to the door. If Naveena wasn’t going to make this call, I’d do it for her.

  Still in my socks, I made it to the slayer bay as Renfro paced in his power suit outside the cannon truck.

  “Where’s Naveena?” he shouted at me, as if it was my fault.

  “She’s not coming,” I said. “But you have me.”

  “Oh, hell no!” He began pacing again, shaking his head this time. “You aren’t fully trained. We’d both get reamed and suspended.”

  I opened the bin where a power suit waited. “Sounds better than what might happen to those orphans if we don’t hurry up.”

  Renfro stopped pacing and opted for groaning instead.

  I secured my suit and helmet, and walked around to the passenger side. Renfro didn’t stop me, but spewed a string of swear words as he hopped behind the wheel.

  Chapter 15

  A crowd of people had gathered outside a ten-story building when we pulled up. Most of them wore robes or pajamas. One guy was walking around with nothing but loose boxers and a bubble vape in his lips. It always amazed me how people would stick their noses into emergencies but would never do anything to help, besides point their fingers as if we couldn’t see what was going on.