by Kathryn Shay
“Don’t go inside with the truck guys yet.” Zander would wait until all areas of fire, in every part of the building, were out. It took ten more minutes. Then he informed everybody, “We got ahold of the manager. Rooms 1, 4, 6 and 21, 23, 28 are occupied.”
No one had shown up on the balconies because they were blazing, too. “All right, Engine 4, go first with the hose into the first floor in case you’re needed for fire hiding in the walls. Truck 4, you do search and rescue.” Into the radio he said, “Same orders for you, JJ as you go through the second level.”
For the first time since their training days, Lynne hurtled into a fire next to Colin, while the others followed. They bumped shoulders. When they reached room one, they found the door ajar. Lynne yelled, “Fire Department, call out.”
“In here.” The voice came from the bathroom. Under the door was a towel. No flames barred their way, but timbers had fallen at odd angles along with various debris, creating an obstacle course in front of them.
She and Colin picked their way over to the bathroom. He tested the handle. “Hot. Pry tool?” he asked Lynne.
“Nope.” She grabbed Colin’s arm, they raised their legs and kicked in the door. One man sat on the floor inside. They took the few steps toward him. “Can you stand?”
“Y-yeah.”
Colin held out his arm and grabbed the guy’s hand. “I’ll lead you out.”
Lynne stayed inside the bathroom and looked up. An inkling of a flame danced in the ceiling. She sprayed it and the whole area again, called in the discovery out to Zander, then headed to another room. By then, Colin had returned.
They just got inside room 4 and Lynne said, “Shit, the ceiling’s—”
A weight slammed her down. As she hit the floor face first, Brady’s image swam before her.
She awoke outside on a stretcher. The sounds of the rig were loud, the air redolent of charred wood; it was still daylight. Pain pricked the backs of her legs and her shoulders ached. “What happened?” Her voice was hoarse.
“The ceiling fell on your legs,” Lt. Benedeski told her. “You got burned through your bunker pants, but the medics said only first degree.”
Prickles of pain manifested in her lower body. She felt her legs. Her bunker pants were gone and her uniform trouser legs torn into shreds.
Lynne turned her head to the side. People laid on stretchers, others bent over to help them. Then she remembered. “Colin?”
“He’s safe, too.” This from Trish.
“What are you doing here?” Her friend wasn’t able to fight fires and had been assigned desk duty.
“I came with the jeep when we heard the call. To see if I could help the medics.”
Bracing her elbows on the canvas, she came up on her arms, then to a sitting position. “Ahhhhhhhh…”
“Can you walk?”
“Yes.” She gulped in breaths. “Give me a minute.”
“You have to go to the hospital.”
“All right. Did JJ get out?”
“Yep. All firefighters are safe.”
“The patrons?”
“Not so lucky. Come on, hold onto me. I’ll walk you to the ambo.” Trish helped her up. More pain at the movement and her breathing escalated. She moaned.
“You need a gurney.”
“Save it for someone else. Let’s get going.”
With her Sister of Fire, Lynne limped to the ambulance.
* * *
3 p.m.
Brady sat in his office and stared at the mound of little pink slips on his desk. His assistant had come in early to field them, then left at noon, while Brady visited people in the hospital. Glad for the silence and privacy, he picked up his cell phone.
A knock sounded on his door. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw through the glass that Carlton Matthews was paying him a visit. Something niggled at his spine, and since he was still holding his phone, he pressed record. Couldn’t hurt. He drew open the door and came face to face with the barrel of a gun. In his other hand, Carlton carried a red tool kit.
“Get inside.”
Hands up, Brady backed away.
“Put the phone down.”
Brady set the phone down on his desk. “Carlton, what are you doing with a gun?”
“Revelation: 21:8 The faithless, the detestable…murderers, the sexually immoral…and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur.”
“What does that mean?”
“2 Thessalonians 1:6: Indeed, God considers it just to repay with affliction those who afflict you.”
Brady quieted. He caught the gist of Carlton’s thought process and scoured his mind for a Biblical passage retort. He raised his chin. “1 Samuel: 12:24: May the Lord judge between you and me.”
“Close your evil mouth and turn around and walk! Or I’ll shoot you right here.”
“Where are we going?”
“To the baptistry.”
“Why?”
“Ezekiel 18:20 The soul who sinneth shall die.” Shaking his head wildly, he poked Brady’s chest with the gun. Brady had no choice but to turn and walk out of his office, into the church proper. “Go left.”
Brady crossed the distance to the baptistry. He opened the heavy wooden door and went inside with a horrible thought that this might be the last place he entered. The room was about 10’x10’, windowless, and on the inner side was the large tub which would immerse young people choosing baptism. Slam! The door closing with a loud clap brought him to his senses.
“Put your hands behind your back.”
Turning, Brady tried once more. “Carlton, please don’t do this. Remember, Matthew 5:7 Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.”
Carlton’s eyes blazed like a demon’s. “Exodus 12:21 An eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.”
Brady faced the wall. In seconds, Carlton bound Brady in zip ties.
Then he heard a different noise behind him. He turned his head and saw Carlton bolting the door with a monster lock.
But the gun was on the floor.
God, please be here with me.
I am, son.
Brady moved fast and as his foot kicked the gun away, something came down on his head. The world went black.
When Brady awoke, he was sitting in the corner facing out, hands still tied. His head hurt like hell.
He blinked his eyes. The clearly deranged man pulled rags and a small gas can out of his kit. “What are you doing?”
“This church is corrupted. Like St. Francis.”
“Did you set that church on fire?” His voice was hoarse with fear and horror.
“The Lord moves my hands and feet. This will be my final attempt at converting you all.”
“I know you’re angry with me, but God can help us work out our differences.”
He frowned. “God sent me to do this. You led my son to sin.”
“Carlton, you can hurt me. But let’s go somewhere else, and not hurt our building.” Which would give Brady a better chance of escaping. “Don’t take the church down, please.”
“Both you and the evil place have to be stopped. And I’m sacrificing myself to the cause.”
Brady swallowed hard. If this was a suicidal mission, he had less of a chance to stop it. He asked God what to do. Inspiration came.
“You know I have an eight-year-old daughter. She has no mother. Who will raise her?”
“Her grandparents. They’re God-loving people.”
“Our congregation will suffer greatly.”
“The elders sinned. And you have too many supporters.”
“Carlton, please.”
“It’s too late, Reverend. For both of us.”
God, please, I need more help.
* * *
4 p.m.
All crew members of Engine 4 and Truck 4 went to the hospital on the rig. Trish drove and picked up Annie on the way since Colin had been rushed here
, too.
Lynne was ensconced in a room and examined. They poured tepid water on her calves and applied petroleum jelly, then wrapped her lower limbs in gauze. Though she was in pain, this felt better. “Do I have to stay here?” she asked the doctor.
“It might be wise.”
“I want to go home.”
He shook his head but picked up her chart and signed the papers. “Firefighters!”
After he left, she slid to the edge of the bed and gingerly slid on the bottom scrubs that a nurse had brought her. Her crew came inside as she was sticking her feet in her boots.
Zander asked, “You going home already?”
“I only have first-degree burns.”
“Colin’s were second degree. He has to stay.”
Cam and Billy were filthy but unhurt and expressed their concern.
Dynai said, “Glad you’re okay, Lynne.”
“Thanks.”
In a half hour, Zander grasped her arms to boost her up to get in the front seat, but Trish came running over. “Wait, Harry.”
Zander waited. “What’s up?”
“I was monitoring the calls that came in. Firefighters and police officers are headed to a church. There’s a hostage situation involving the pastor and most likely an arsonist.”
Lynne gasped.
The cap’s gaze narrowed on Trish. “Did they do an all-call?”
“No. But Lynne knows someone there.” She faced Lynne. “Sweetie, it’s Brady’s church.”
She gulped back her terror and turned to Zander. “Please, Cap. I know the hostage well. Please, can we go help?”
“No. We’re all exhausted. They’ve got plenty of personnel on site.”
She moved in closer. “Harry, I’m in love with the man whose life is in danger.”
“The pastor?”
“Yes.”
“Holy hell.”
“Let me go with Trish.”
“No, we’ll all go. Maybe we can do something.”
They climbed back on the rig, which sped through the streets. The whole crew had overheard the conversation but she didn’t care.
And on the way, Lynne did something she’d hadn’t done in years. She prayed to Brady’s God.
* * *
4:30 p.m.
Brady’s eyes widened when Carlton grabbed a stick lighter from the tool kit. “We’ll pray first,” Carlton announced.
“I’d like that.”
As if in a daze, Carlton got on his knees and began some kind of chant. Soon, his body began to rock. Brady accepted he had little chance to help himself. But he’d left the recording on his desk, and maybe someone would find it.
He chanted along with Carlton. Whenever the man wound down, Brady kept going. Thankfully, Carlton went along with it.
5 p.m.
“What are you doing here, Harry?” Tim Daniels, the officer in charge of the scene asked.
He glanced at Lynne. “We came to help if we could.”
“There’s already an engine and a truck here. The police and bomb squad too. I appreciate the support but you can go back to your firehouse.”
“It’s because of me.” Lynne stood near Harry as snow began to fall again. She’d put her turnout coat on. “The man inside, Cap, I’m in love with him.”
Daniels looked to Harry.
He shrugged. “Shit, I couldn’t say no. We’ll stand back and won’t interfere. Any details?”
“Two cops and our crew headed inside. The whereabouts of the hostage is the baptistry, behind the altar.”
“How do you know that?” Lynne asked.
“The guy who called in the fire told us there was a phone recording in the pastor’s office. He listened to it and alerted 911.”
Lynne wavered. Trish held her up.
“The same guy told us the baptistry is a self-contained room with no windows. Which is why the kidnapper chose it.”
Lynne wanted to whimper but she threw back her shoulders and stood tall. Daniels hurried inside with the police behind him. “Let me go in, too.”
“Absolutely not!” Harry said. “A stiff wind could blow you over.”
So Lynne waited outside while the rest of her crew sat in the truck. Zander stayed with her. She took the inaction as long as she could. The first chance she got, she darted to the church. “Lucas come back here!” Zander called after her.
She entered Brady’s church. The firefighters would be in the sanctuary. When she reached it, she saw them upfront and hurried there.
Daniels said, “Give me a halligan.”
He tapped the drywall to find the studs. In between two, he began at the bottom and hacked through the sheetrock. But he encountered a blockage.
“That’s probably the bathtub. Let’s go down five feet. They shuffled along the wall and repeated the process. Once again, the halligan hit the drywall with a loud crack, the sound echoing in the empty church. Behind the opening they found more drywall. “This is it. We’re breaching.”
Lynne could hear the blood pounding in her head.
5:15 p.m.
Brady kept praying. He watched Carlton who was in some kind of trance. How could he stop the guy when his own hands were tied behind his back? If he moved, would Carlton wake from his daze?
Stay where you are, Brade.
It took all the strength he had to remain motionless.
Suddenly, a thunder-like crack came from the left side of the tub. Then more banging, then—oh, my God—a huge hole in the wall opened up. Carlton awoke as a police officer barreled through it, and behind him another. The two men lunged for Carlton. Off kilter already, he wavered and the gun slid out of his hand.
One of the cops grabbed it. “He’s disarmed.”
Firefighters entered, three, one after another and hurried to the gas can, rags and fire stick. One put all in the tool kit. One checked the rest of the room.
In minutes, the entire thing was over.
Thank you, God.
I’m always with you.
Just as God spoke, a fourth firefighter climbed through the opening. Man, he was seeing things. He thought it was Lynne.
It was Lynne.
She covered the distance between them. Throwing her arms around him, she brought him to her chest and he buried his face in her dirty, smelly coat. One of the policemen approached them. “I have a knife for the ties.”
They helped Brady maneuver and soon his arms were free. They banded around Lynne. “I’m never letting you go,” he whispered in her ear.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said.
* * *
Christmas Eve was a delight at the church. Almost every mobile member attended. Brady donned his white vestments and smiled into the mirror. Once again, Bryce sat behind him. “You’re happy tonight.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I escaped death, the church is safe and the congregants have finally calmed down.” And Adam Matthews had moved back in with his mother.
“I heard Carlton went to a mental institution.” His brother was finding it hard to forgive the deranged man. “You have anything to do with that?”
Brady had. He’d fought for Carlton’s placement. “Me?”
Bryce grinned. “You haven’t said much about your firefighter.”
This time, Brady grinned. She was his firefighter and would stay that way with God’s help. “You know we’re together. After that night, everything became clear.”
“At least she’s divorced now. That’s help. You treading water?”
“Pretty much.” In the last ten days, he and Lynne had been together every possible minute, which included one night at the cottage where they’d had blistering sex. The girls were delighted with their situation, though they hadn’t said anything about their plans, only that they were dating. This change was going to take a while.
I wish she was here tonight.
God smiled.
Hmm, why was that?
“It’s time to go listen to the choir.” Which performed for fifteen minutes
before the holiday service began.
Bryce got up and gave him a bear hug. “I’m praying for you.”
“I’m just grateful everything ended peacefully.”
Of course, everyone was treating him differently. Congregants showered him and Emma with food, as they did when an emergency struck a congregant. The elders thanked him for being so calm and generous with Carlton. Then, he’d told them Lynne was going to be part of his life, and they should know that.
No one protested.
Brady walked out into the church and sat on the right side near the pulpit. The first part of Handle’s The Messiah began, as the congregation quieted. After Brady settled in his seat, he caught sight of the doors to the sanctuary opening.
Praying this was the right thing to do, Lynne walked into Crystal City Christian Church. Her heart thudded until she remembered the last time she was here. They’d made promises then, ones she vowed to keep. Brady had asked her to attend the service tonight, but she couldn’t make herself agree. Something, however, drew her here. The kids were with Ken tonight and she’d have them tomorrow. Alone, she slid into the last pew.
She witnessed the exact moment Brady saw her. His eyes widened and he smiled broadly. Eventually, he approached the pulpit. He looked so holy up there, dressed as she’d never seen him before, in full regalia. Was it awful that she also thought he looked pretty damn good?
No, Lynne, it isn’t.
Great. Now she was hearing voices.
Everything’s going to work out for you two, I promise.
Lynne shook herself. Her head was playing games with her. God spoke to people only in their minds, saying what the person wanted to hear.
Laughing. Then, We’ll see about that, my dear. We’ll see.
Epilogue
* * *
Six months later
“Fix my hair too, Daddy.”
“I will sweetheart as soon as I’m done with Melody’s braid.”
Emma fidgeted. “I want one like hers.”
