by A. R. Shaw
Matthew rolled his eyes. “Yes, go ahead sir. Send someone to evaluate us. Yeah, like we have time for that.”
“Oh, yeah. He can stay. He can cook and clean….no we’re not going to train him. That’s not our job. That’s your job...I don’t care if I’m not being helpful…good-bye to you, too.”
Matthew could not hit the end button on his phone with more vigor or with the speed in which he wanted to. If the guy was right in front of him at the moment, he’d deck him without a doubt.
Suddenly he realized there were people in the room, but no one said a word. He turned and saw that they were all staring at him from around the oval table. He shook his head and instead of trying to explain what they’d all just overheard, Matthew reached for the front door handle and stormed outside instead.
In the distance, he heard Owen say, “Anyone want more potatoes?”
14
Dane
Even her sneakers made noises as she walked down the sterile hallway. The quiet though…the quiet of the hospital was unlike anything she’d ever encountered. Hospitals were noisy places. They were filled with people and drama. Families fighting. Blood, lots of blood and on any given day, you could feel the germs in the air as you imagined viruses seeping past the fibers in your nostrils.
Not today. Somewhere down the hallway, Dane heard the click of one doors close, the beep of a keypad and another snap as a different door locked again. Then, the quiet invaded the space again. Dane felt like she’d walked aboard the white pristine halls of the Enterprise. Luminescent and clean. Nary a surviving molecule of dirt existent on the white tile flooring. Except then, as she walked down the hallway, she heard a painful moan. Someone, a middle-aged woman, Dane decided, was in agony on the other side of the wall. Then a murmur of a male voice. A doctor or a nurse.
She walked past an open room filled with empty chairs, a TV monitor braced against the corner of a wall. Magazines arranged in a neat stack upon the end tables. Not a soul haunting the former hospital waiting room. There was even an orange traffic cone and wide caution tape barring its entrance, authorized personnel only, a sign affixed at a haphazard angle stated. It was weird, and empty, and all the doors were up closed up ahead.
Finally, she saw a nurse wearing frog green scrubs behind a desk with a bright smile. She was totally out of place.
“I see you made it past the gauntlet,” she said as if it were a game.
She was way too cheery for this place. “Is that what you’re calling it?”
She chuckled. “Oh, don’t be so serious. Who are you here to see? I get to tell you what room they’re in.”
“I see. My husband, Michael Falconer.”
The nurse pulled up the classes attached to a little ornate chain around her neck and looked down at the computer in front of her. “Falconer…” she said. “Yes, Michael. Room 202. Elevators are on your right, down the hall.”
“Thank you!”
Dane turned toward the hallway when the nurse said, “Oh, Ms. Falconer?”
Dane stopped. “Yes?”
“Where’s your ring?”
Gulp. Oh, she’s good.
Dane took a deep breath and smiled. “Oh…I, um…left in such a hurry this morning…”
Dane hoped she wouldn’t ask for some ID, but the nurse smiled at her again and kept talking. “Well…often heart attacks are caused by marital disagreements. That’s why I asked. My husband had one right after we split up. I always felt guilty…”
“I…we’re fine.”
“Mine didn’t make it, poor dear. I’m sure you’ll have better luck. I know the look. Try to be nice to each other. You’re all you’ve got in the end. I see it every day.”
There was no reason to comment or argue the point. Dane just smiled and blinked as if there were tears in her eyes. Then she nodded and moved on. Play the part, Ms. Falconer.
When she reached the elevator, she heard the car descend and when the doors opened a middle-aged man stepped out. When Dane went to step inside, he said, “Don’t forget to scan your bracelet when you reach your floor, or the doors don’t open. I stood there like an idiot for the longest time.”
“Oh, thanks.” They hadn’t told them about that part in the spiel at the guard unit.
The door closed and then shortly stopped. Dane did as the man suggested and used her wrist to swipe at the black matte panel on the inside of the elevator below the control panel. There was a beep and the doors opened.
“Voila,” Dane said with just a pinch of sarcasm in her voice. She’d entered the realm, but she wasn’t there to visit, her husband, Mr. Falconer, and she wasn’t his wife Cathy. She was there to stalk a rapist and he went by the name of William Grodier. And she was going to find a way to kill him.
But first, she had to figure out a way to get around that damn bracelet.
15
Matthew
He’d never get used to that early morning purple haze. The smell of something like cinnamon wafted on the light breeze along with the ever-present smell of smoke which they were too accustomed to. Despite the pleasant morning, he blew out a hard breath and stepped out on the porch, his boots clomping first on the wooden porch and then crunched through the gravel drive as headed toward the other building where everyone waited for him to give the morning briefing. Matthew had one curveball heading their way, though. He’d wait until the end to let it sail through the air. It involved Rebecca and she had to make that choice on her own. He wasn’t going to do it for her, but the question had to be asked. He sensed it among the others as well.
When he walked inside the building, he propped the door open. There was no sense keeping the doors closed when it wasn’t cold enough for a fire. He always needed the fresh air, especially when he was agitated, and he’d been agitated since the phone call the day before or was it when he was given a kid who wasn’t the least bit trained what so ever and put his entire team at risk of injury or death. Actually, he hadn’t heard from Dane either and that fact was eating at him, too. She’d promised to call and let him know she was all right. But she hadn’t taken the time. He had no idea if she was alive or dead. One cannot just turn off their feeling for another human being on request. It didn’t work that way.
Stop it.
Inside the building, a few of them milled around with coffee cups in hand, the steam rising in swirls. Rebecca sat in a metal chair on the far side of the room. She wasn’t making eye contact with anyone yet. He’d heard her murmuring in her sleep last night from across the bunk room. He supposed nightmares of the nightmare were still haunting her. He’d noticed everyone, but Owen gave her a wide berth. He sat only a few feet away. Her constant guard. Owen tended to babysit her. That was a problem, too. That wasn’t an ideal situation for their job classification and he was thankful there was a light load today because if they continued to act that way around her…it could compromise their safety just as having someone untrained would get someone killed.
Matthew stood at the front of the room. After checking his tablet, he said, “We’re on an assist for the Snow Creek Fire today in the Flathead Valley. Some of you aren’t familiar with the area…it’s not that far from where we are today.”
“They need assistance?” Owen asked.
“Yeah, low manpower. They lost a few in Chicago and then several have left since then. Same story all over. So we’re pulling together. We’ve had unseasonably low temperatures and an increase in rain for this time of year thankfully. They’ve closed the trails and have done their best to clear them, but there’s an increase in smoke activity. Crews from Lewis and Clark, Hungry Horse, and Spotted Bear will be there as well. We’re assigned to the Big Salmon Pack Bridge and Mud Lake Lookout area. We’re on reclearing trails, structure wrapping, and sprinkler system installation. We ought to be back here by dinnertime.”
Rebecca said, “That’s a pretty big area for our numbers to cover. They must be really limited in manpower now.”
Surprised to hear the old Rebecca again, h
e looked up at her. “Yes,” he said with raised eyebrows. “Like I said, we’re all spread pretty thin.”
“Was this a natural fire?” she asked as she retied her bootlace. It wasn’t an unusual question these days. Not even for remote forest fires.
The rest of them had the same reaction as he did. They darted glances her way, but Matthew noticed she didn’t make eye contact with anyone. She kept her gaze inward and busied her hands with other tasks. She attempted to make them more comfortable around her. That was good. She was trying to make things more normal. The way they used to be.
He glanced at the tablet again. “Uh…it says here it was caused by lightning but we’ve seen a lot of lightning-caused fires lately yet there’s been little lightning in the forecast. Rain, yes but no lightning.”
She bobbed her head at that and Matthew went on with the briefing.
“Location is nineteen miles northeast of Condon, about a two-hour drive. 1,815 acres to cover. Timber fuel. Litter and Understory. Any questions?”
When he looked up, most of them gave him a blank stare. It was Lee that took a few steps toward him and said, “I’ve got a concern rather than a question, and I don’t mean any disrespect.”
The size of the guy’s shoulders were impressive. He was a quiet guy. Kept to himself mostly and had an easy way about him. When he wasn’t working around the station, he was working out those massive arms in the station’s makeshift gym. As a team member in the blaze, he’d performed perfectly. So for Lee to speak up and make a statement like that, Matthew knew his concerns were valid. He’d listen to him. He also sensed what this might be about…and hence the curveball.
“Shoot, Lee,” Matthew said, and he flipped closed the tablet, wrapped a hand around the edge and let it swing to the side of his leg.
Lee’s black eyes made bored into Matthew’s. His mouth a straight line. “I might be out of line here, but these two,” he pointed at the newcomer and then he pointed at Rebecca. “Like I said, I mean no disrespect but are they participating in the arena today. I have concerns about their qualifications. I…” But before he could finish, Owen said in a firm tone, “Rebecca’s fine.”
Rebecca raised a hand, “It’s okay, Owen. Let him talk.”
But Matthew could see that Owen was not okay with anyone questioning Rebecca’s skills.
Lee put a handout and spoke directly to Rebecca. “I really mean no disrespect. Obviously, something’s happened. You were injured or something. I’m not clear on the details, it’s none of my business, but the thought of going out there with someone who’s not qualified or,” Lee searched for a word and put a handout, “or someone who’s still recovering from something traumatic is not an ideal situation in any fire.”
He was about to continue but Matthew stopped him. “It’s all right Lee. Your concerns are valid. I was just getting to that.”
Matthew looked directly at the scrawny kid in their midst. “You, are not going anywhere with us. You will stay here and clean house, repair equipment. You will sweep the driveway. You will do laundry. You will do anything you can do to earn your keep and stay out of our way.”
The kid’s brows ran together, “But that’s not…”
“Rebecca?”
“Yes?”
“Are you fit to work with us?”
She darted a quick glance at Lee and bunched up her lips, “Yes.”
Matthew nodded. “That’s all we need to know. Gear up.”
16
Dane
Beeps and whirs of machinery met her ears when she turned down the next hallway. Their sounds muffled behind closed doors. She’d had the unfortunate experience as a firefighter of visiting many ICU units in her past as an occupational hazard and typically they were in see-through units in front of a nurse’s station and this was no different. The closer she came to the ICU hall, she scanned her wrist over a panel of the hallway double doors and pushed through to the next hallway.
A slender woman in a crisp lab coat with an olive complexation and dark hair held in a bun stopped and glanced at her from the tablet she held and then she ran right into the door she stood in front of. It would have been funny if it wasn’t so concerning. She muttered something under her breath, shook her head and waved her wrist over the door’s security panel. It beeped, she snapped open the door, and the locked clicked closed behind her.
Too bad for the patients that need instant help.
Dane walked a few more steps and then a male in scrubs came in behind her. “Can I help you?” he said in a deep Who the hell are you and where are you supposed to be? Tone.
“Hi, I’m looking for room 202.”
He jutted his chin out quickly, down the hallway but still held her in a suspicious stare.
“Thank you,” she said and went on before he could ask her any more questions. Dane realized he was making sure she entered the right room. As if she had a choice.
When she came to room 202, she was able to see through the glass, a man on a bed with a breathing apparatus fitted over his face like an alien sucking life out of him. Hopefully he’s unconscious, Dane thought as she looked back at the nurse down the hall. She slid her wrist along the security panes. It beeped, she stepped in and the door closed with a snap behind her.
Great.
Inside, the wheezing of a breathing machine with a slow repeating cadence, beeps from a few other machines, she realized her husband, Mr. Falconer was in less than optimal shape. Dane took a deep breath and took a couple more steps inside the room looking around.
Then she heard voices coming down the hallway. A lot of voices.
Crap. Dane quickly slid the backpack off her shoulders and let it slide down to her side. She quickly stepped next to Michael Falconer’s bedside and took his IV riddled hand in hers.
With a beep, the door opened behind her.
“Oh, hello, Ms….,” the guy checked the tablet in his hands, “Falconer.”
She smiled at him with a worried expression. “We’re here on rounds. We hope we’re not disturbing you.”
“No, not at all.” She really had no say in the matter as the doctor held open the door and several people, Dane assumed they were medical students, filed into the small room, shutting the door behind them. Remembering why she was there in the first place, Dane turned her back quickly to the group not knowing who might enter.
The doctor began talking to the students and then he said loudly, “Mr. Falconer. How are you, sir? You look better than you did last night.”
She had no idea her husband, Mr. Falconer was conscious. In fact, he was staring up at her with green eyes above the forced air breathing mask. She knew he couldn’t speak.
The doctor placed a hand on Dane’s shoulder. In another attempt to be heard the doctor said loudly, “You’re a lucky man to have your wife here with you.” In a softer tone, he whispered to Dane, “He’s going to be just fine in time Mrs. Falconer.”
Dane’s eyes widened as she looked into her husband’s confused expression. He made a grunting noise and tried to pull his hand from hers suddenly.
“No, no, that’s okay, sweetheart,” she said to him as the beeps on the monitors began increasing their intervals, she clasped her hand harder around his finding that he was surprisingly strong for someone who’d just gone through bypass surgery.
“Labcoat anxiety. See…” he said to the class. “He’ll calm down as soon as we leave. Let the nurse know if there’s a problem.” The doctor said motioning his chin toward the nurse call button. Unfortunately, the patient saw where the nurse call button was too, wrapped right around the safety bar just inches from the hand Dane held tightly in hers.
He attempted to pull his hand from hers again. And when that didn’t work, he grunted and waved his other arm as the students and doctor filed out of the room. “Goodbye, Mr. Falconer,” the doctor waved.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Dane drew her eyebrows together and turned her gaze down to her darling, sweet husband.
Matthew
“See ya, kid. There’s plenty of work to do. When you’re done with the laundry, work on the bathrooms,” Matthew said from the passenger side of the truck. “When that’s done, pull the weeds from the driveway.” The rest of them were on their way and they were leaving the young man behind, standing in the between the buildings.
He didn’t seem to like it either by the look on his face. The glowering hate filled stare told him so. Matthew just smiled.
Poking his head out the window, Owen said, “And stay out of my kitchen, kid.”
“My name is Dustin.”
Owen threw the pickup in reverse and gravel spewed from the back tires as he drove away.
“Don’t laugh. It’s not the kid’s fault. We shouldn’t be so hard on him,” Matthew said.
“I’m not the one laughing. You’re raking him over the coals. You do realize you don’t even call him by his name?”
“I use his name.”
“No. No you don’t. Last night you even told him when to go to bed. Like he was your little brother and you said, ‘Kid, lights out.’”
“He was playing with something on his freaking iPad. The glow lite up that whole side of the room.”
Owen laughed out loud. “You’re the one giving him a hard time. The rest of us are just wondering why he’s here.”
Matthew growled. “They want us to start training recruits on the job. Training’s become too expensive.”
“So are funerals. Who said this?”
“Edwin.”
That’s when Owen growled, too.
