Waltz into Fire

by L. J. Garland

  “You okay in there?” Macky called.

  “Yeah. Just gotta clean up some crap.”

  He scooped up the medical supplies and returned them to the bin. Snapping the latch back in place, he pressed his forehead against the cool door. Memories slammed into his mind, assaulting his brain with sharp-edged images and piercing words.

  Lies. Transgressions. Condemnation.

  Squeezing his eyes closed, he forced the past away and focused on the here and now. He’d come to the small town of Rainsville, Texas, hoping to do some good, to help people while he still had time. Straightening, he pushed his hands through his hair, blew out a breath. Those people in that house needed him.

  A shout from outside sent him leaping from the back of the ambulance and twisting toward the house. The right end of the roof gave way. Firefighters shifted their hoses, attempting to douse any embers before they floated to a neighboring residence.

  “Still taking bets,” Macky said, a tremor beneath his irreverent comment.

  ***

  Fallon landed hard on her back, absorbing the boy’s fall with her body. Between the unforgiving floor and the kid’s weight, not even her mask could help her catch her breath. Her lungs burned. Darkness closed in.

  The child wiggled, and Fallon fought the need to shut her eyes and rest. She hadn’t come this far to lose the fight. Drawing in much needed oxygen, she managed to get her respirations somewhat under control. She lifted her hand to the mic. “Ryan, can you hear me?”

  He grunted. “I’m here, Sparky, but I think I broke my leg in the fall. You okay? The kid?”

  She rolled to her side and sat up, her eighty pounds of gear slowing her movements. Pain seared her back, and her head ached. Glancing up, she caught sight of the burning loft. Amazement peeled through her—they’d just fallen at least ten feet, and she could still function. She nestled the kid against her, adjusting the small tank’s mask over his nose and mouth.

  Through the thick smoke, Fallon spotted Ryan trying to stand.

  “Stay put, Ryan,” she ordered. “I’ll come to you.”

  “No.” He raised his head, met her gaze with a pain-filled stare. “Foster and Lovett will be in here any minute. Just get the kid out.”

  Fallon thumbed her mic. “No way. You don’t have a minute. This house is coming down now. I’m not leaving you behind.”

  “Go, damn it,” he growled over the radio. “Save the kid.”

  Fallon glanced down at David’s sweaty, soot-covered face. There couldn’t be much air left in the emergency tank. Ryan was right. She needed to get the kid to safety.

  She thumbed her mic as she pushed to her feet. “I’m getting him out.” She adjusted the boy in her arms. “Back in a sec.”

  Hunched over, she shuffled through the debris to where the door stood open. She stumbled out onto the porch and down the concrete steps. As she reached the bottom, Foster met her.

  “I got him.” He tore the limp boy from her grasp and rushed across the yard toward the ambulance and waiting EMTs.

  Gritting her teeth with determination, she rounded back toward the house.

  “Fallon!” Lovett’s voice called after her.

  No time to answer. She bolted through the doorway, intent on saving her partner. Bending over, she navigated through smoke and burning debris to where Ryan sat.

  “Where’s the kid?”

  “Safe.” She pulled him up, draped his arm around her shoulder, and tried to carry as much of his weight as she could. The door was only twenty feet away, but it might as well have been the length of a football field.

  Earlier, the fire had seemed to help her, but, now, a wall of orange flames stood between them and the door. Behind them, the loft beams broke and crashed to the ground floor. Fallon twisted away, doing her best to protect herself and her partner. Ash and embers blew over them, a sigh from Hell’s furnace. The searing heat on her arm and back told Fallon her turnout coat had been penetrated.

  Clutching Ryan’s arm, she guided him around a burned-out couch and smoldering debris. But they’d only managed a few feet when a veil of smoke shrouded them.

  “I can’t see,” Fallon said, the sound of her rapid breaths disconcerting her. Heart pounding, she fought against the panic threatening to take over. “Are we even going the right way?”

  Ryan swept the flashlight beam, revealing charred railing from the stairs. The balusters lay strewn on the floor, bony fingers pointing in accusation.

  “There’s the newel post, so the door should be….” He skimmed the beam along the wall, stopping on a plank of wood hanging at an odd angle. Fire danced around the jamb, a veritable exit sign. “There.”

  “You’re a godsend, Ryan.”

  She shuffled across the room, fighting the desire to cry out for help. This was a small town with a volunteer fire department—there already wasn’t enough manpower to fight a fire of this size. The rest of the team was engaged, working their asses off to contain the damage to just the one house.

  They approached the door, but the flames engorged, a fiery shield driving them back. Fallon cringed against the sudden heat, and Ryan shifted in her grip, tumbling to the floor with a yell of agony. The flashlight he held skittered across the floor.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  The smoke curtain parted, exposing her partner rocking side-to-side on a scorched carpet. She hurried to him.

  “Remember….”

  Fallon jolted, twisted to peer over her shoulder at the door. The crackly whisper triggered chills to hammer down her spine.

  “Meeee….”

  A gush of water rained through the doorway and into the house. The fire blocking their escape diminished with a hissing protest.

  Grabbing Ryan’s arm, she hefted him to his feet. “Man, you need to drop a few.”

  He latched onto her shoulder, and, together, they rushed for the door.

  “Shit, Sparky,” he said with a pain-filled chuckle. “One minute, I’m a godsend. The next, I’m a fat bastard.”

  As they hobbled out into the summer night, elation swirled through Fallon. Death had been left empty-handed again.

  Lovett hurried to them. “I tried to follow you in, Fallon, but fire blocked the door.” He lifted her partner’s arm from her shoulder, taking his weight from her. “Let’s get you some help, Ryan.”

  Lovett turned with her partner and stumbled away from the burning house. Fallon followed them, but halfway across the yard, she collapsed to her knees on the grass and yanked her oxygen mask back from her face, her helmet falling to the ground next to her. Damn, what a night.

  “Remember me….”

  The rest of the roof caved, and sparks flashed into the air, a million fireflies winking in their final moments of life.

  Zane and Macky met the firefighters halfway up the lawn. One of the men held the little boy they’d snatched from the burning building. The other guy who had aided the injured firefighter trailed behind.

  “Here,” the first firefighter said, handing the limp child to Zane.

  Sweeping his gaze over the tiny, soot-smudged face, Zane pivoted and rushed to the rig. He laid the boy on the gurney and checked for respiration.

  Nothing.

  “Damn it.” Zane gave two rescue breaths and checked whether the boy had started breathing on his own.

  Nothing.

  Macky checked the kid’s brachial pulse. “We’ve got a pulse. Thready, but there.” He hooked the ambu-bag up to the oxygen.

  Zane continued the slow steady rescue breaths, pumping oxygen through the bag. If they didn’t get the kid breathing soon, he’d crash and go into cardiac arrest.

  “Come on.” Zane’s mind popped with images of every child he’d ever tended. Some had made it. Others…. Frustration arrowed through him, obliterating his trip down memory lane. Shit, he’d come here to make a difference—and he didn’t plan to end his time by losing a child.

  “Breathe, damn it,” he demanded as he squeezed the device, delivering the much-
needed air into the kid’s lungs.

  In a fit of hoarse, raspy coughs, the boy started breathing. Zane sat back, his shoulders slumping.

  “Thank you,” he murmured and took the oxygen mask his partner offered. Slipping it over the kid’s head, he spoke in a soothing voice and positioned the cup over the boy’s nose and mouth while Macky inserted the IV.

  ***

  Fallon sat with Ryan, waiting for the second ambulance while the rest of the guys fought the remainder of the fire. Exhaustion weighed on her, but she couldn’t leave her partner alone and in pain. She held his hand while the EMTs gave him a shot of morphine. This was one fire she’d be happy to say goodbye to.

  It’d gotten way too intense in there, to the point where she must’ve been hallucinating. To think the fire had guided her to that kid was crazy. And talking to it…as if the flame could really listen to her? Lord, that was something she would keep to herself. If anyone knew what she thought she’d experienced, they’d send her off to the loony ward.

  “Sparky,” Ryan said, bringing her back to the present. “You saved that kid. And my ass. Thanks for not leaving me in there.”

  “I didn’t do anything different than you would’ve done.”

  “Don’t know about that, Fallon. Like to say I would. Don’t know.” He squeezed her hand. “Always admired how fearless of those flames you are. Careful, Fal. One day, they’re not going to let you out.”

  Fallon stiffened, the hairs on the nape of her neck standing on end. Shit. “You sound like you think they’re a living, breathing entity.”

  He tugged her arm and caught her gaze. “Aren’t they?”

  She looked away, worried he’d see the fear in her eyes. Thank God he was strung out on painkillers. “We’re partners. When I needed help, you came up those stairs even knowing how unstable the whole place was. You wouldn’t have left me anymore than I could’ve left you.” She scanned the charred remains that once was a family’s home. Tumbled bricks and broken wood. “We saved a four-year-old. Isn’t that what it’s all about?”

  Ryan nodded, his eyelids fluttering. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

  She patted his shoulder and stood. “The second squad is here. I’m gonna go check on the kid before they take you. I’ll let you know how he’s doing.”

  He held her hand a moment longer. “Thanks.”

  Leaning over, she kissed his cheek and turned to trudge across the lawn to the ambulance.

  “Hey, Sparky!”

  She twisted around. “Yeah?”

  “You pick one yet?” His words slurred, and his eyebrows rose over closed eyes.

  “One what?”

  “Godsend or fat bastard?”

  The unexpected words brought a bark of laughter to her lips. “Just calling it as I see it.”

  She approached one of the EMTs who stood speaking with the boy’s parents—the woman had the same eyes. “Is David going to be okay?”

  When she looked up, surprise flashed across her face. “Oh!”

  The mother rushed her and grabbed her around the neck in a soulful embrace. Fallon locked both legs to keep herself from tumbling across the lawn.

  “How can we ever thank you for saving him?” The woman stood back, tears coursing down her face. Wiping at her damp cheeks, she sniffed and moved to melt into her husband’s arms. “I couldn’t find him anywhere. Dave dragged me out of the house, but when he tried to go back inside, they stopped him.” She burst into tears and clutched her husband’s shirt. “I thought we’d lost him.”

  Fallon ran her hand over the woman’s shoulder. “I’m just glad we were here to help.”

  “Where did you find him?” David’s dad asked.

  “He was hiding in a little cubby hole inside the closet in the master bedroom.”

  David’s mother gasped. “Oh my God, he’s never gone in there. I never would have looked in there.”

  “Frankly, I’m not sure why I did. I’m just very glad I didn’t overlook it.” Her gaze slipped to the EMT who stood next to them. Intense, dark-brown eyes met hers. “Do you mind if I go say hello to him before you leave?”

  “Not at all.” The deep timbre of his voice sent hot tingles rippling through her. “Actually, he’s been asking for you.”

  “For me?”

  His bold gaze still riveted to hers, he said, “Sure has.”

  Fallon spun toward the back of the rig, unnerved by her reaction to the EMT. Dark and dashing was so not her type. She liked the long, tall cowboy, not the uptight G-man. So, why the sparks singeing her skin over a few words and a piercing stare?

  She climbed up into the ambulance and sat next to the little boy. The monitors against the wall beeped, and an IV bag hung from a hook, its tube snaking down to where it pierced the kid’s arm. He opened his eyes and smiled at her.

  “Hi, David. I hear you’re going to be good as new.” She patted his shoulder. “Are you feeling okay?”

  He nodded but didn’t say anything.

  “Is your throat sore, hon?”

  Again, he only nodded.

  “Okay, then, I’m gonna let your mama come in, and then they’re going to give you a ride to the hospital where the doctors and nurses are gonna take great care of you.”

  Fallon moved to leave, but the kid snatched her hand.

  “How come you yelled at the fire?” he said with a squeaky little voice from behind the oxygen mask.

  Her breath hitched, and she stared at him, startled he’d heard her. “Because I was trying to find you, honey.”

  “But why were you yelling at it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It was only trying to help you.” He gazed at her with round eyes. “I heard it.”

  Chapter Three

  Shock ricocheted through Fallon, leaving chinks in the wall of rationalization she’d created. The little boy, lying strapped to a gurney, an IV in his arm, and an oxygen mask shrouding most of his face, had just announced he’d heard the fire talking. She stared down into the child’s questioning eyes and forced herself to smile.

  “You heard that?”

  David nodded, and she squeezed his hand. He’d heard the fire. Part of her mental barrier crumbled.

  “I’m just glad I found you.”

  “Me, too.”

  With trembling fingers, she brushed a wayward lock from his forehead, smoothing it against the rest of his sandy blond hair. The incessant beeping of the monitors grated on her already frayed nerves, and with the revelations the kid had just bomb-shelled on her, the cramped ambulance shrank down to a matchbox.

  Dragging in a breath, she said, “I’ve gotta go check on my partner. You do what the docs say and get better.” She shuffled to the rear of the ambulance. “Your mom should be here in a minute.”

  Outside, the potent diesel fumes from the rig overpowered the stench of burned wood from the decimated house. Relieved to be free of the tight vehicle, she inhaled and welcomed the change. The exhaust fumes reminded her of Houston’s bustling crowds and heavy traffic. She loved this quaint small town, but sometimes she longed for the anonymity of a big city.

  Hugging herself, she attempted to shake off the disquiet little David had fueled in her. His admission rattled her to the core. Granted, the kid was only four, but he’d clearly heard the same thing she had. So, why hadn’t anyone else? Maybe his childlike innocence left him open to things adults missed. Still, it was damn difficult to dismiss what she’d experienced in that house to the effects of adrenaline when someone else validated it. How was she to rationalize what had happened now?

  Fire did not help firefighters find lost children. And it certainly did not talk. Fire burned and devastated.

  She should know. She’d witnessed plenty of destruction during her ten years of fighting fires. Seen the lives taken. None of what she’d experienced in that house made any sense at all.

  “Lord, help me,” she mumbled.

  “Well, I’m not the Lord, but I’ll do what I can. You’re hurt.”


  Fallon whipped around to find the handsome, brown-eyed EMT standing next to her. “Oh, uh…no. I’m not hurt. I was just…frustrated with the fire. Sorry.”

  “No need to apologize, but you are injured.” With a grin, his white teeth almost fluorescent in the pulsating emergency lights, he pointed. “Let me fix that up for you.”

  She lifted her arm and realized for the first time her entire forearm was red and inflamed. She’d been walking around in her T-shirt for half an hour and never noticed. Now that she had, the burn started to sting, a thousand white-hot needles piercing her skin. She bit back a moan. “Damn.”

  “Let me grab my kit. I’ll have you wrapped up in no time.” He strode toward the back of the ambulance.

  “No, really.” She was used to taking care of herself. She didn’t need some EMT—no matter how good looking—patching her up when all the other injured people needed tending. “This isn’t a big deal. I have some salve at the restaurant. I’ll fix it up when I get there.”

  He peered over his shoulder and said, “Hey, it’s what I’m here for. You don’t want me feeling useless, do you?” His mouth curved into another sexy grin.

  A jolt of hot adrenaline shot through Fallon. With wide eyes, she watched him disappear into the back of the ambulance. Yeah, she could think of a good many things he would be useful for. Those strong, broad shoulders were worthy of sinking her nails into. Chiseled jaw, nice for nibbling. Large, gorgeous hands that would feel oh-so-good—

  “Here we are.” He reemerged and set the hefty first-aid kit on the ground next to him. “Let me get a look at this.”

  He reached for her arm, and just before he touched her, a tiny electric spark vaulted from her skin to his fingertips.

  He jerked back. “Did you feel that?”

  “Yeah.” Damn straight, she’d felt it. The unexpected pop had jarred a nerve all the way up to her elbow.