by Amie Denman
Tony wished he could suggest another way for Laura to feel alive and of service. Wanting to protect her was going to kill him.
“Which is why I think we ought to dig through your storage for some smaller boots sooner rather than later,” she added, and then she turned and joined her classmates for a group high five.
Gavin snapped a picture with his phone, and Tony hoped he could think of a way to ask Gavin to text him that photo with eight joyful faces streaked with rain. As the class of volunteers laughed and congratulated each other, all Tony could see was the happiness on Laura’s face. He wanted to hold on to that moment.
CHAPTER TEN
A FAN OF playing out scenarios in his head before they happened, Tony had already considered what he would do if a serious fire call came in while he was teaching the volunteer class.
So, in the middle of a lesson in the training room, when dispatch called and said flames were showing through the roof of a factory on the edge of town, Tony was ready. He had to go, and Gavin Kennedy did, too. Judging from the severity of the call, it would be all hands on deck.
“Work together and study chapter nine,” Tony said, closing his book and heading for the door of the training room. “We could be gone for hours, so you can go home when you’re done.”
“Can we come along?” Skip asked. “We can help.”
“Not without gear and certification. You can stay put and listen to the radio traffic, and if we get back and you’re still here, we’ll be glad to have your help cleaning gear and washing the trucks.”
As he spoke, Tony was leaving the room and heading for his own fire gear. He glanced back at the eight eager faces in the training room and hoped none of them would decide this was the night they would become a hero.
He jumped in the driver’s seat of the first pumper, the one that would serve as both fire attack and incident command. In his twelve years on the department, Tony had seen his share of large fires, and it was something they continued to practice and plan for. He was still a mile away from the factory when he realized the dispatcher had not been exaggerating. The faded sunset in the west left enough darkness for him to see a faint orange glow where there shouldn’t have been one.
“Smoke,” Gavin said from the passenger seat. “Going to be a hot one.”
“Call in the volunteers and Virginia Beach and put them on standby for mutual aid,” Tony said.
Gavin got the dispatcher on the radio and did as Tony asked.
“Car on your right up there,” Gavin said, pointing out a car that wasn’t following the protocol of pulling off to the right when an emergency vehicle was behind it. He pulled the air horn and the car dove into a driveway.
“I think you scared him off his phone,” Tony said.
“Good. I hate tourists on phones.”
“Someday that could be you. Lost on vacation with crying kids in the back seat,” Tony said. “You should show pity.”
Gavin laughed and then swore softly. “Those flames. Man. What kinds of hazards are we looking at in the factory?”
“All of them,” Tony said.
“They build boats, right?”
Tony nodded.
“So, wood, fiberglass, paint, varnish, glue, vinyl, foam,” Gavin listed. “Basically every toxic thing known to man that can burn.”
“We’ll need a decent perimeter. Keep people back.”
Tony got on the radio, identified himself and reminded all his men about getting into their full gear, including air packs, because of the hazardous fumes. He told them no one was going anywhere near the burning structure until he gave a direct order.
“The roof’s already gone,” he commented to Gavin when he got off the radio.
“Surround and drown?” Gavin asked.
“May be the only thing we can do,” Tony said. “We’ll have to see if the fire walls within the plant have done anything. Maybe we can save parts of the building if we get behind the fire and drive it out, but I’m not putting anyone at risk of a falling roof unless we have reports of people entrapped.”
“Parking lot looks empty,” Gavin said as soon as they got close enough to visualize an entire wall of the factory and feel the heat through the open windows of the fire truck. “No second shift working. Must be how the fire got such a head start.”
“I wish I had ten more trucks and twenty more men,” Tony said. “Luckily, we’ve got good hydrants on this side of town and the owners worked with the city to install more when they built this place.”
Tony pulled up next to a hydrant and parked where his truck would serve as incident command. He grabbed a portable radio and directed his incoming trucks where to park and how to set up. He’d need water supply, lights and plenty of hose. The ladder truck, driven by Kevin and Tyler, rumbled down the driveway, its engine and weight giving it a unique sound Tony would know anywhere, even over the roar of flames and sirens.
There was nothing like having a solid team of people who were practically family when facing a heart-pounding emergency. His thoughts flashed to the new recruits back at the station. Maybe he should have let them ride along on one of the trucks, but he couldn’t risk their lives when he didn’t have time to think about ensuring their safety on top of the rest of the department.
They would have their chance.
Tony didn’t measure time passing, but he noticed the increasing darkness and deep shadows being thrown by the tower lights from his rescue truck. The owners of the factory had shown up not long after the outriggers went down on the ladder truck, and they had confirmed that the factory would be empty. The first shift had gone home hours ago, and there were only two cars in the employee lot—both of the car owners were accounted for, and were after-hours maintenance who had discovered and called in the fire. They’d been working in a different part of the building and the flames were beyond their ability to use fire extinguishers on.
With no victims entrapped, Tony had been able to immediately shift his attack plan to containment. Keeping the fire out of the parts of the so-far unaffected building and keeping the flames from leaping to other buildings on the property was hard enough.
The local newspaper showed up, the reporter snapping pictures and asking questions. Tony saw him on the periphery of the fire scene, talking with bystanders. He wanted to delegate someone to keep people back and set up tape, but all his firefighters and the volunteers they’d called in were busy knocking down flames and supplying water. The police usually showed up in full force and helped, but Tony heard the radio traffic, and he knew they had their hands full. They were busy with a domestic violence standoff on the other side of town. When one lone police car showed up to close off the side streets leading to the fire scene, he was grateful for the only help the Cape Pursuit Police were able to offer.
As Tony glanced at the edge of the fire scene, he saw several personal vehicles park on the edge of the factory’s long driveway. Doors opened and eight people poured out. The class of volunteers. And the person at the front of the pack was a tall, slender woman whose silhouette he recognized even as it was splashed with red and white from the flashing lights.
He clenched his jaw; his first reaction was frustration that they had not done as he asked and stayed in the station, studying chapter nine in their books. He watched the group stop when Laura held up her hand just on the edge of the fire scene. Tony waited a moment, wondering what they would do now that they were here. He was tempted to stalk over there and serve them up a lecture, but two things stopped him. He remembered his own training and eagerness. In their shoes, would he have sat in the training room and waited?
And he couldn’t deny that he needed their help. His full-time firefighters and volunteers were busy. Crowds were gathering, watching the flames, taking pictures and videos with their phones. If someone slipped between the trucks and got closer to the fire scene, they would be in trouble.
&
nbsp; He grabbed Gavin as he laid down a ladder next to the rescue truck. “Go over there,” Tony said, pointing at the eight volunteers, “and tell our class to grab reflective vests from the rescue truck and spread out. They can keep bystanders back.”
“Can’t believe they showed up,” Gavin said. “That was brave but a little stupid.”
Gavin’s assessment of the volunteers’ action as stupid raised Tony’s opinion of the young firefighter a notch. The kid was right, but there would be time to address that later. Right now, he could use their help.
“Tell them what I said,” Tony said. “Laura knows where the vests are.”
* * *
LAURA SAW TONY’S face in the harsh light of the fire scene. Lights from the tops of the trucks bounced off the reflective stripes on Tony’s gear, but his expression was clear. He wasn’t happy to see them. She’d known she was taking a chance when she suggested to her classmates that they could at least drive over to the fire scene and observe it.
They had already discussed the assigned chapter in the book, despite keeping one ear on the radio traffic. As they sat in the training room, she noticed how fidgety her classmates were. A shaking leg, a bouncing pen on a notebook. What if the firefighters needed more help? She’d heard the call over the radio to put Virginia Beach’s department on standby, but she hadn’t heard any more talk.
“No entrapment,” a voice had said over the radio. “Building empty.” It was Tony’s voice, and Laura caught the subtle notes of relief mixed with tension in the four words.
There had to be a way they could help.
“I’m off duty,” Marshall said, “but the police department has its hands full with that domestic standoff. They may not have extra units available to direct traffic away from the fire scene.”
“So, should we go and do that?” Laura asked.
The eight classmates had exchanged tense glances.
“Group decision,” Laura said, “but I say we go.”
And now that they were on the edge of the lighted circle, what were they going to do? Laura saw Gavin approaching and expected him to deliver a lecture from the chief and probably tell them to go away.
“Chief says get reflective vests from the rescue truck and spread out on the edges. Keep people back. May be some hazardous fumes, but wind’s going the other way, so you’ll be okay on this side.”
Relief flooded Laura’s mind. Tony wasn’t mad?
“Chief says you know where the vests are on the truck,” Gavin said to Laura. “Keep people back, don’t talk to the media.”
“Not the worst job,” Marshall said. “Feels a bit like my day job. Show me where the vests are and I’ll help you hand them out.”
Laura went straight to the outside compartment on the driver’s side where she remembered road safety equipment being stored. Vests, road flares, even a reflective sign warning drivers of danger ahead. She dug out a stack of vests and handed them to Marshall, keeping one for herself.
“Should we spread out or work in pairs?” she asked Marshall. “This is your area of expertise.”
He looked around. “I think we have to spread out or we won’t be able to cover the wide circle around this place.”
Laura nodded. The boat building factory seemed gigantic. They put on their vests and spread out on the side of the factory Gavin had indicated, upwind of potential fumes. Laura hoped there was no one on the other side; Marshall had said it wasn’t likely because there were no streets or sidewalks that could access it. It backed up to an industrial park that was mostly empty.
She faced the groups of curious onlookers, away from the fire. When any bystanders got too close, she advised them politely to step back for their own safety. Although she would rather have grabbed a fire hose and helped knock down the flames, she was already risking Tony’s good opinion just by showing up. But it had to be a good sign that he hadn’t sent them home, right?
After a half hour, she saw a vehicle she recognized. Her sister. Nicole and her friend Jane got out of the car and opened the back hatch. Laura knew what they were doing. Jane’s husband, Charlie, was on the department, but long before she had married him, she had faithfully shown up at fire scenes with food and coffee.
Laura waved at her sister and Jane, but she stood her ground. She wanted to go help lug coffee and food to the firefighters, but she wasn’t a girlfriend, a wife or even a concerned citizen. She was—sort of—one of them, and she had taken up a post on the perimeter and couldn’t relinquish it. Tony was counting on her class of volunteers, whether he’d wanted them there or not.
She heard a crash and a shout and whipped around just in time to see part of the roof collapse. She knew from radio traffic and observation on scene that Tony had not allowed anyone to go into the burning part of the building. Thank goodness. There was a man on the end of the ladder extending from the truck way over the building. He directed a heavy stream of water down into the burned structure, but he was out of harm’s way.
Was it Kevin?
Laura looked back at Nicole, wondering how she would react to seeing such a dangerous aspect of her fiancé’s job—a job that had taken her months to accept, even though and because she loved him. Nicole watched the man on the end of the long ladder, hanging over the flames. Laura guessed her sister knew who it was. And then Nicole turned her troubled gaze on Laura. She looked as if she was going to cry, and Laura felt sick and miserable. Was she behaving selfishly, embracing the career that had killed their brother as a way for her own heart to heal?
Her eyes locked with her sister’s for a moment, and Laura was immensely relieved that Nicole hadn’t shed a tear. Instead, she squared her shoulders and marched behind Jane to the main pumper where Tony stood guard, talking on his radio.
Jane and Nicole put a big thermos and a stack of cups on the running board and set a box next to it. Laura guessed from experience that there were sandwiches in that box, enough for every firefighter on scene to have one or two. Would they be there all night? Jane and Nicole only talked to Tony for a minute and then Jane went back to her car and Nicole came over to Laura.
“Jane’s baby is asleep in her car seat,” Nicole said. “We can’t stay, but if you’re going to be here half the night, call me and I’ll bring more food and coffee.”
“Okay,” Laura said. She forced a smile, even though her sister’s expression was grim. “Thank you.”
“You could volunteer at the humane society,” Nicole said. “Puppies and kittens give unconditional love. I was thinking about this after our dinner last week when we were talking about how we used to bring home animals.”
Laura waited out her sister, knowing there was nothing she could say.
“You love animals,” Nicole said. “You’re really smart. I bet you could be a vet. It’s sort of like firefighting. There are animal emergencies all the time.”
“I’ll see you when I get home,” Laura said.
Nicole sighed. “I don’t know if I should go to Kevin’s house and wait up for him or stay at our house and wait up for you. You two are determined to kill me.”
“You could go home with Jane and wait together. I’ll call you when we’re done,” Laura said.
Nicole gave Laura a quick hug. “No matter what time,” Nicole said, and then she turned and fled toward Jane’s car without looking back.
Hours later when the fire was completely defeated, Laura and her classmates helped roll up hose and pack equipment back on the trucks. One truck and two firefighters stayed on scene in case of flare-ups, but the rest of the department returned to the station. Adrenaline gone, Laura wondered what Tony would say to her and the other new volunteers. They’d been helpful, but they’d also disobeyed his specific orders.
It was two o’clock in the morning, and deep weariness caught up with her as she helped wash and replace equipment. She had to open the Pursuit of Fun beach shack in only
six hours, but she wasn’t complaining. When she signed up to volunteer, she knew there would be late nights, early mornings and everything in between.
“Go home,” Tony said, surprising her by appearing behind her as she folded the vests she and her fellow volunteers had worn. “It’s late, or early, however you want to look at it.”
“Are you going home?” she asked.
“No. I’m going to stay and write up the reports. Insurance company and state fire inspector will be here in the morning, so I’ll stick around.”
Laura finished stowing the vests and closed the cabinet on the side of the rescue truck. Grime streaked Tony’s face, and she wanted to reach up and wipe it off.
“It was your idea, wasn’t it?” he asked. “Coming to the fire, even though I told you not to.”
Laura never considered lying. She knew the risk she had taken, and she was willing to own it.
“Yes. I couldn’t stand just waiting around. It seemed as if there was something we could do.”
Tony didn’t answer; he just stared at her as if there was something he wanted to say.
“We finished the chapter you assigned. Took notes and everything. And then Marshall heard that most of the police department was tied up on the other side of the city, and he told us what role the police usually play at fire scenes.” She was trying not to ramble or take a defensive tone. Just stating the facts and giving Tony a replay of what led to her decision. “I asked for a group decision, and in the end we decided we’d all go.”
Tony swiped a hand across his forehead and left a wider streak of dirt. “I know you were trying to be a leader, but you have to learn that being a leader sometimes means not jumping in with both feet.”
She was too tired to argue and she knew nothing good would come of it. But didn’t she have the right to defend her actions? “Would you rather we didn’t show up and keep bystanders back?” she asked.
