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HERO (The Complete Series)

Page 2

by Bella Love-Wins


  In any case, a lot of good it had done me to that point. Creepy guys ogling, creepier guys cyber-stalking me on the radio station social media accounts. A jock boyfriend in high school who was more into admiring his reflection that even noticing I was around. A jerk boyfriend in college with not an ounce of romance in his DNA. And a sorry-ass, lying-through-his-teeth, smoking hot firefighter ex-boyfriend.

  Yes. Lucky me.

  The lower Manhattan streets were always crowded, even at night. That night, however, seemed quieter than normal, and even I noticed it in my semi-distant state. I normally listened to music on my smartphone, and would have had my headset on, but I didn’t think to wear them that night. That’s probably why the shrill scream of what sounded like a young girl or boy caught my attention.

  I’m not sure what got into me, perhaps it was my curiosity. I sped up my pace and walked towards the sound. It was a fire. A big, sprawling row house fire. I was in disbelief, because the entire row of brownstone walk-ups on my street was going up in flames. People were spilling out of their units, seeming to grab as many things as they could. That’s when I saw the girl at the end of the row. In the distance, the girl looked to be around thirteen, and was screaming up at a second-floor window where a young boy was leaning out. It was my neighbor’s kids that I used to see at the park opposite the restaurant from time to time.

  “You have to jump!” she screamed.

  “I’m scared! It’s too far. I can’t,” he answered, coughing from the smoke escaping his room.

  “You have to!” she shouted at the top of her lungs.

  “I can’t. Help me!”

  It was so chaotic on the street, no one else noticed them. People were running in and out of their homes trying to grab what they could. The worry was probably intensified on people’s faces because it was less than a year ago that the first two units of the row house had finally been repaired from the hurricane damage. Hadn’t the street been through enough from the Frankenstorm?

  I was on the only one whose attention was on those two kids. I had seen their parents frequently, taking them out on many evenings for dinner at the restaurant where I worked. They’d then cross the street and let the kids play in the small park across the road. Where in the hell were they?

  I reacted on impulse, and my instincts kicked in. The adrenaline must’ve taken over, the way my heart started pounding so hard in my chest. I ran to the other end of the street, because I remembered a neighbor there would leave his long-ass ladder on the side of the building. He had received several complaints from the other neighbors, because it blocked the shortcut to the entrance of the E-train.

  All I remember was grabbing it, propping it over ne shoulder, and pushing it up to stand at the side of the kids’ walk-up stairway. I barely remember climbing up and grabbing the boy—who looked to be around six years old. I vaguely remember pulling him over my shoulder and climbing down the rungs of the ladder in what felt like double steps. It was a blur, but when I got to the bottom, time seemed to completely slow down.

  The boy pulled himself out of my arms when we got to the bottom. I was shocked at what I had done, and stood frozen in disbelief. It certainly had actually happened, because a crowd had gathered around the base of the ladder and started to cheer and applaud in my direction. The boy seemed mostly fine, despite his soot-blackened clothes and skin. His sister held him tightly and was crying in relief.

  It was just about then that truck No. 89 of the FDNY 10 Station of Lower Manhattan made its way around the corner. Two police cruisers followed, and the officers inside instantly began taking control of the scene. The police department controlled the traffic, helped residents get their property and vehicles out of the way and did their usual crowd control routine—something I knew intimately because we had done so many building-wide drills at the radio station after Hurricane Irene. With the blaze already spread across several homes, keeping the street clear for firefighters was a real undertaking tonight.

  The firefighters set up their equipment quickly, and began to fight the blaze that was now threatening more homes in the next row of townhouses. My muscles ached, and it hit me then that I had not gone into my walk-up to grab anything from my place. I realize now it was the adrenaline fading. My body felt weak, to the point where I almost collapsed on the sidewalk at the other side of the street. That’s when a firefighter approached me.

  “Ma’am,” he said with authority and hero-like confidence. “I’m going to have to get you to stand all the way over there with the rest of your neighbors. We need to clear the street and get you all at least a block and a half away.”

  I looked up, and all I remember was my arms going loose and my shoulder slumping forward.

  When I came to I was on a stretcher, about to be put into the back of the ambulance vehicle. There was an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth, a brace around my neck, and a female paramedic leaning over my right side. I looked over to my left, and the same firefighter was there. His left hand rested warmly but ever so gently on my shoulder. As weak and out of it as I felt, his touch sent chills and tingles throughout my body.

  Hero chemistry.

  “Ma’am, this must be your purse,” he said. “I’ll make sure the paramedics take it with them so you have it once you get to the hospital.”

  I tried to speak but was weak and everything went blurry.

  “You inhaled a lot of smoke when you jumped into the second-story bedroom to get him,” he said. “That was really brave of you. Have you ever had firefighter training? Don’t speak. Just nod yes or no.”

  I shook my head no, not realizing until then, that I had actually climbed into the window when I went up to get the child.

  “Okay. Just relax, and we’ll get you all taken care of.”

  They loaded me into the back of the ambulance, and it was a short ride to the hospital, but as they unloaded me and began to wheel me inside, everything around me began to fade away.

  Chapter 3

  I think I fell asleep or passed out, because when I woke up, I remember feeling so confused about my surroundings. It took a few moments, but I soon realized where I was—the hospital emergency ward, probably in a recovery room. There was an IV in my left arm, connected to what looked like saline solution. It sounded like there was a lady in the hospital bed beside me, but I couldn’t tell for certain because all of the curtains were drawn almost fully around me. All I could see was the room door and a tiny picture frame beside it.

  A doctor walked in and stood beside the bed, scanning the label of the hospital tag around my wrist with the tablet he had with him. He read my medical file and mumbled a few things before he addressed me.

  “Good, you’re awake,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

  “Fine, I think,” I replied. “A bit weak. Maybe a little dizzy too.”

  “You suffered from moderate smoke inhalation. This is why you’re probably experiencing a loss of energy and dizziness. You have first degree burns on your forearms. Not to worry. They’re minor, and we’ve already treated them. You’ll be coughing for some time, and that may weaken you further. Other than that, you’re going to be okay.”

  “Well that’s a relief, doctor,” I started to say, but the coughing picked up again.

  “Try not to speak. You can answer my questions by nodding or shaking your head. Understood?”

  I nodded.

  The doctor continued. “What this means is we will release you in a few hours once you feel stronger. Do you have anyone we can phone?”

  I hesitated because I had no family in New York, and he had just instructed me not to speak. I shrugged my shoulder, and luckily, George and Richard knocked on the door, stepping inside just as I was finishing my pathetic non-answer. George had a bunch of flowers and Richard held up one of those silver helium-filled ‘get well soon’ balloons. They stopped in the doorway when they realized the doctor was still speaking to me.

  “Come on in, gentlemen,” the doctor told them. He motioned for
them to enter, and began to leave. “Miss Samuel, I’ll check in on you in a few hours before the end of my shift.”

  “Hi George. Hi Richard. How did you find out I was here?”

  “Try not to speak, young lady,” the doctor reminded me. I nodded, and he seemed satisfied, so he left.

  “It was all over the news,” George replied. “And we live two blocks away, remember? The smoke was everywhere. We came out right as we found out about it and tried to look for you, but got to the street just as they were putting you in the back of the ambulance.”

  “Honey,” said Richard. “Are you ok? You look like you’re exhausted, but in a much better state than we thought we’d find you. We were so worried for you, girlfriend.”

  I nodded but had to add, “I’m pretty fucked up, aren’t I? I feel like crap.”

  I was so used to the guys swearing at the radio station that I’d become as potty-mouthed as they were, or maybe worse. Then I remembered another patient was in the bed beside me. “Oops.”

  “No. You look surprisingly good,” George chimed in. “Your row of brownstones is practically burned to the ground. They’re calling you a hero. That was crazy what you did, but I’m so proud of you.”

  “How do you know what I did?” I questioned.

  “One of your neighbors recorded it on their smartphone. It’s been cycling on the TV and online news outlets for hours. The clip went viral. Last time I checked, it had almost a million views on YouTube. You’re practically a celebrity.”

  I smiled sheepishly for a moment, and then coughed uncontrollably for a few seconds. My throat and lungs still burned.

  “Let me call the doctor,” Richard said, his voice sounding full of worry.

  “No, it’s okay,” I replied. “I’ll be coughing like this for a while. I’m actually fine. I just need to try not to speak. The doctor said they’ll be releasing me pretty soon, though.”

  “Good to know,” said George. “The cough does sound pretty bad…we won’t bombard you with questions, then.”

  I nodded.

  “We’ll wait here with you, and that way, once you get released we can take you home to our place.”

  “No, I’ll just take a cab home,” I answered, not wanting to inconvenience them, and really, all I wanted was a night’s sleep in my own bed.

  “Kate,” Richard replied softly. “There is no home, remember? Your place is practically gone.”

  No home. That was the first time it hit me that the damage was real, and permanent.

  “Oh. I’ll just stay in a hotel.”

  “Don’t try to talk. And you’ve gotta be kidding me, Kate. We don’t pay you enough to afford a New York hotel. You’re staying with us, and that’s final.”

  I shook my head, ready to dig my heels in and fight.

  “Stop being silly, woman,” George said. “On the news, I heard that most of those people had contents insurance and will get some form of reimbursement to stay at a hotel. You can stay in a hotel if you want, but I don’t think you should be alone at a time like this. We’re your friends. We’re practically family. Just say yes and forget whatever you’re thinking.”

  My parents were actually alive, and quite wealthy, living in Phoenix, however they disagreed with my choice of career, and gave me an ultimatum. They were so used to doing anything they needed in order to control everyone around them. Business school or work in the family business. By then I had been controlled enough. It wasn’t enough that I was their daughter and had a passion for communications and media. I don’t think I was ever enough to them.

  So when I turned eighteen, I ran away with the savings I had accumulated over the years. It a small fortune to some, enough to get me through college with just a part-time job. I never spoke to them again. They had always felt they could use their money or some other carrot to control everything and everyone around them, including me. I just didn’t want to live that way. I didn’t even think they knew where I lived, or whether I was alive. Not until they sent the PI sniffing around Sabatini’s.

  “There’s nothing you can say to change our minds, Kate. You’re not staying at a hotel.”

  I was tired of arguing. “Okay,” I told him, keeping to myself that I would only stay for a few days until I could find myself another place.

  My room door opened just then. It was the firefighter. Wow. As he stood in the doorway, with the light from the hallway spilling from behind him into my dimly lit room, he looked glorious.

  Standing there, he seemed much taller than I had remembered, from the glimpse I had gotten a few short hours ago. His short, dark blonde hair framed his clean-shaven, chiseled face. His muscled shoulders and broad chest were obvious, even under his entire fireman’s uniform. He was breathtakingly handsome.

  Hero.

  “Sorry to interrupt you all,” he began. “Miss Samuel, it seems that a couple of things fell out of your bag and were found on your street after the commotion died down. I just came to bring them back to you.”

  He produced my wallet, which still had all of my credit cards, cash and ID, and my cell phone.

  “And you are?” asked Richard, his eyes soaking in every inch of the man’s body with desire and delight. Sometimes Richard could be such an obvious pig. He was loyal to George, but had a tendency to act in the most inappropriate way sometimes.

  “Excuse me for not introducing myself. Lieutenant Lewis, of FDNY 10, Lower East Side station,” he replied and turned back to me. “Ma’am, it’s not procedure, however there’s a lot of activity underway by Police and other city offices. Just trying to find temporary lodgings for the displaced families has taken some time because hotels are at capacity around this time. We’re all chipping in to help out. Normally this would have been handed over to the police department, but they’ve been swamped. I thought you’d need this to get settled somewhere for the night.”

  “Thank you,” I answered. “I’m not sure what I would do without these.”

  I suddenly began to think about the things that were in my apartment and might have been valuable or sentimental. Other than my clothes and laptop, I couldn’t think of anything at the moment. Everything else could be replaced.

  “It’s no problem at all, ma’am,” he replied. “I’ll leave you to your friends now. If you don’t mind me saying this, what you did was remarkable, brave and selfless. My department’s Fire Chief will probably be contacting you tomorrow to thank you personally. Would you mind writing out your temporary address where you’ll be staying, telephone number, and email address for us?”

  Temporary. Yet another reminder I was homeless. I looked up at George, who was already nodding to provide his address and contact information for me. “Let me do it,” insisted George. “She’ll be staying with us.”

  I looked on silently as he took the small notepad and pen the Lieutenant provided, wrote down the address, and handed it back to him.

  “Thank you. Well, have a good evening, ma’am,” he said, then turned towards George and Richard, “Gentlemen.” He seemed a little hesitant as he left, like he would have said more if George and Richard weren’t there.

  “Jesus Christ, that guy is fucking hot,” Richard announced after he left. “Damn, and in a firefighter’s uniform of all things, George.” He winked slyly at him.

  George rolled his eyes and looked over at Richard. “Can it, Rich. Besides, it’s pretty darned obvious he has something for Kate.” He turned back to face me. “Kate, did you see the way he looked at you before he left? Plus, he’s got your number now! I’m ready to put down twenty bucks right now that he’ll call you before the week is out. ”

  “Going to rest now,” I told them. I had no energy left, and was ready to take a nap until the doctor gave the okay for me to be released. “Why don’t you guys just go home, and when they’re ready I’ll take a cab to your place.”

  “We already told you that we’ll wait here for you,” Richard pressed. “Get some rest. We’ll be out in the waiting room. Don’t go dreaming abo
ut Mr. Hottie. He’s hot like fire!”

  It was a relief to have some time to myself when they left. They meant well, and they’re both sweethearts, but I was too tired to think, let alone interact. My mind did wander to Lieutenant Lewis all the same, though. I wondered what his first name was.

  Right away, I caught myself. This is how it starts. I glamorize guys just like that without knowing who they are or what they stand for. Then they rip my heart to shreds and kick it in a corner before they walk out the door. I was not going to let this happen again. Besides, what I really needed to worry about was what I was going to do to replace everything. Where was I supposed to live after this? How and when would things get back to normal for me, and for all those people on my block?

  I must have dozed off again. When I opened my eyes, the doctor was back in the room with his tablet, checking off some things with his stylus. There was a female nurse beside him as well.

  “So, Ms. Samuel,” he started. “Everything is a go for you to leave now. The nurse here will remove your IV. You’ll need to wear those bandages on your forearm for at least a few days. She’ll give you some gauze and extra bandages to take with you.”

  “Thanks, Doctor,” I replied quietly, still sleepy and foggy-headed as the nurse began to remove the needle from my arm.

  “Remember, you were exposed to smoke for a while, so you may experience a few residual side effects, with symptoms like a lingering cough and hoarseness, chest pain, trouble breathing, for example. You may even have some eye irritation, headaches, abdominal pain or nausea. Those are normal and to be expected, but if you start to feel shortness of breath, faint at any time, or begin coughing up blood, that’s not good. So for those symptoms, get to an urgent care clinic or come back to the hospital right away. Okay?”

 

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