by Celia Crown
Kicking through a door where the voice originated from, I watched a burst of flame lick my mask, and the prickling heat rises from under my gear. The man is under a fallen filing cabinet with files giving the fire something to burn near him. He tries to move his leg from under the metal box while flicking the burning papers away.
My gloves take the brunt of the heat that strengthens from the metal being beyond scorching as his skin is burnt from being underneath the metal box. I gauge his injuries as he draws up his foot. I throw his arm over my shoulder and steer him to the door which the fire hasn’t blocked just yet.
Two of the firefighters run into the building and past us with a nod to tell me that they can handle the next couple of rooms while I take this man to safety.
“Fuck!” he screams with a cough, “Get me out of here!”
I haul his heavy body as he’s dragging his weight down for his bummed foot, the EMTs come rushing toward me to take the man off my shoulder while I turn back to the building when I hear a shout for help above me.
It’s a woman screaming for one of my firefighters on the extension ladder to hurry up because the black smoke is taking over the building. The blue sky is buzzing with smoke and the scorching of bright orange; it’s an ugly change of weather as I run back into the building.
I’m the Chief, and my job should be coordinating with the other fire departments as they are also here to help out with the fires, but I need to be hands-on and save whoever I can. It’s in my blood to fight and not sit around giving around orders, my people know what they have to do, and they are doing a better job than those people with cameras out and filming this.
They could be volunteering to give support to the people sitting on the curb instead of waiting for the ambulances because they’re going off to the hospitals nearby with the more severely hurt patients.
By the time we cleared the astronomy and physics building, the flames got too strong to have my men risk their lives there. No one can go in even if they tried; all the exits and entrances were blocked. Water is not doing much good when there is more than one origin of the flame’s ignition.
I leave it to the waters to do the rest while I take off my mask to breathe in the thick air. It’s not much help that my oxygen tank is depleted. I switch out mine for a new one and put the old one in the right place to prevent someone else taking it and assuming it’s filled in the midst of chaos.
No one would realize that its empty based on the weight, but when adrenaline and fear are skyrocketing, time is of the essence.
The other fire departments’ captains nod at me as they run into the buildings with screaming people and the horrors of the roaring fire. More ambulances are coming in and out to transport burned victims to the hospital. This is only effective if we get the victims out in time to stop any further damages.
Smoke inhalation is often more common than being burned. It’s also a statistic in a lot of reports that inhaling smoke affects more people than being burned alive. I took on this job to save people. I know that I can’t save everyone, but I want to try my hardest that everyone gets home to their loved ones.
I know the feeling of returning home to an empty house.
A crackle of something in my heart causes me to almost fall. My heart is hammering for reasons that aren’t adrenaline and heat. It’s a sense of fear that turns black and hideous when I try to look around for whatever that’s making me feel this way. I can’t pinpoint the squeeze of my heart or the murmur in the back of my head that whispers Anna’s name.
No, it’s fine. Anna is at home, and she’s safe.
One of the most dangerous buildings that I step in is the science labs where they store dangerous chemicals and unmentionable experiments that could make this structure blow up.
I swallow thickly, breathing heavily as my breathing echoes back into the mask to feed it to my ears.
I know that death is a factor in this line of work, and I never cared or thought about it much. I had no one to return home to and no one to worry about. That was before I met Anna and I can’t afford to think that way anymore, it’s not about me anymore.
Anna is waiting for me to return home.
Home, our home where she is safe from this bizarre fire that’s eating the blues of the sky.
Time passes, and I don’t recall how many hours I have spent rescuing people from buildings, but we finally managed to stop the spread of the fire, and the only thing we need to do is to let the waters put out the fire while some of us are still running into buildings.
It’s a massive campus with thousands of students. There is no headcount to tell me how many people are missing because it’s college on a weekday so who knows where everyone is and if they ever showed up to classes.
There is no way to know if we saved everyone from buildings; we could be missing more people because they could be unconscious or dead from smoke inhalation and flames.
“Sir!” a voice yells from behind me as I tear my mask off.
Sweat beads at my temple, and I wipe it away as I look over my shoulder to see one of my men running up to me. He’s on the shorter side, but he’s quick on his feet, and he’s a great team player.
He’s also a recent recruit that worked up his way. He has great potential with his keen attention-seeking eyes to pick up on details to write in his report. It takes knowledge and experience along with years of gut feeling to confidentially say that one incident is an accident and another is arson.
“I have gone through the art building, and it’s been cleared. Others have cleared their sections too. The only one we’re still waiting for confirmation is the building at the East corner.” He takes a breath, and his eyes flicker in color with the roaring flames.
I nod, “Good work.”
All the water hoses are being used with them being attached to the fire hydrant. It’s a long time before I start to see the decrease of flames and everyone is either on standby in case anything unpredictable happens, or they are off helping the survivors patch up wounds.
“Luke,” Forester calls as he jogs up to me. His crisp white dress shirt is soaked with blood and black soot.
“We rounded up most of the fire starters, but some got away before more backup came,” he clicks his tongue and watches the fire from the building.
I stopped putting names on buildings after a while. I needed to focus on rescuing and distractions won’t do anyone good. I don’t want to lose people because I didn’t put all my work into saving them; the burden is too great for me to carry.
We don’t talk, there is a more pressing matter at hand, and I want to see the fire get extinguished. Little by little, the building becomes soaked, and it dims the power of the heat while the smoke dissipates into the sky.
The sky is no longer blue. It’s a blend of a sunset too inappropriately colorful to be the aftermath of a great fire. My muscles are burning with a straining pain from overexertion. My legs feel like they’re about to knock against each other and take me down to the wet floor.
I want to make a call to Anna and to hear her voice. It will give me the strength to pull through this and clean up this mess so I can return to her.
“Call her,” Forester says as if he’s reading my mind.
We connected through work. I like that he is the best in his field and he can read people just as well as I do. Forester doesn’t push me to open up to him about anything. I’ll tell him if I’m ready and only if I want to. He doesn’t take offense to that. He understands not everyone can be open about their lives.
He used to joke that secrets keep relationships spicy.
“No,” I clear my throat, “I don’t want her to worry.”
“It’s all over the news, she already knows,” Forester has a point; my firefighters are defeating the fires around campus, and I’m not needed currently.
My legs won’t move, frozen and struggling at their spots. I’ll collapse from exhaustion if I move and I need to assist others once I regain my breath.
&n
bsp; “Come on,” he says with a hand supporting my weight as my mask drops to the ground.
He helps me to the firetruck and sits me down as the entire truck tips to my weight. I squeeze down the trembling deep within my muscles as I linger on my knees. Blood courses through my veins as my mind protests loudly to not take the phone Forester offers me; having Anna worry about me is the last thing I want.
Knowing her golden heart, she would come running to the scene of a crime to see me.
My heart warms at that thought, she worries about me and cares too much that it’s almost to a fault. It’s never a bad quality of hers to care too much. It shows the innocence in her and the upbringing she got to be this kind of a soul.
I take the phone and punch in the number I have memorized; a silent prayer goes to the cellphone towers that they aren’t jammed from people sending and receiving calls in the area to find their loved ones.
The most that could happen is bounce my signal to another cellphone tower, and it might get disconnected due to the abundant signals that it’s also receiving.
It goes through, and it rings in my ear over the thumping of my blood. She doesn’t pick up as the voicemail message comes up with her perky, little voice asking me to leave her a message. I try to call her again. She could be so engrossed in her baking that she doesn’t hear it.
Or it could be on vibrate. There are many reasons as to why she’s not picking, and none of them should have me worrying. She isn’t involved in the fire, but my mind travels to the possibility that she somehow got here and didn’t tell me.
The tone rings dully in my ear as Forester’s eyes stamp to the side of my face as we both wait; it goes and goes before it gets picked up by a voice that I don’t recognize.
The brief moment of relief turns deadly as the person over the phone asks who I was and question whether I was a relative or not to Anna.
It’s the type of calls that I’m unfortunately familiar with. I have heard them over and over again at the hospital when the nurses make the calls.
“She is being treated at St. Mary’s hospital.”
My heart drops to the ground, my surrounding becomes dull, and my vision turns into tunnel vision as I stare at one lighter spot on the wet ground.
Amongst all the chaos, I briefly remember Forester pushing me towards his police car and shoving me into the passenger seat. It’s another blurred memory with sirens, the three solid floors flashing in my eyes as we were speeding down the streets where it was cleared for ambulances to move through without the worries of pedestrians and cars blocking their way.
The only thing I know for sure is the smell of antiseptics filling my lungs and the cool air regulating the scent of the emergency room.
My eyes scan the room, injuries range from mild to severe, and the nurses tend to them. I don’t find one mob of black hair that matches with a set of glowing amber eyes; none of them is my Anna, and I’m growing angry with doubts chewing at the back of my head.
“Chief!” someone calls to either me or Forester.
A nurse jogs up to us and extends her hand towards the pathway that leads to a hall where they put patients who have been treated.
“She is on the fifth bed. I’m sorry I can’t take you there,” she shoots her apology with quick sessions of a head tip before scurrying off to another patient who has more dire injuries.
My feet are tired and painful, but I push through and weave around people who are talking over others to get a proper diagnosis. It’s less complicated and calmer in the hallway, but there are no beds out in the halls that have Anna on it.
I start to look into rooms to find her with the help of Forester. The nurses are too busy tending the patients to care about us. They must have had other parents and loved ones looking through rooms to find the injured ones, but I am only looking for one small girl who is too important to me.
Anna is in a room that’s eight doors down from the emergency area. She’s under the care of a doctor who is checking her vitals. The steady heartbeat from the machine is not helpful until I can feel her pulse under my hand.
I ignore the doctor and take hold of Anna’s hand as she breathes through the oxygen mask. Her pulse on her wrist is weak, but it’s there, and it’s growing stronger when I hear the machine beat louder.
She knows that I’m here and she’s fighting for her life. Anna is a strong girl. I never once doubted that she is weak. She is fragile, though, there is a difference, and I don’t think she knows it herself.
I’m fine with it. I can protect her and shield her from the dangers that want to threaten her golden heart and the purest soul. I’m ready to take the fall of the world on my shoulders if I can look down and see her amber eyes brilliantly glowing with her pretty smile.
“She is being treated for severe smoke inhalation. We are administrating a round of fluids through the IV drips,” the clipboard drops against the hospital bed as I hold her hand in mine.
The doctor gives me a sympathetic nod. I can hardly control myself from lashing out at him and at the world for bringing harm to my Anna.
“We gave her antibiotics to prevent and treat any infections,” the doctor says with a shove of his pen into his coat pocket.
“There are no further steps we can take. We have to let the medicine and time heal her.”
The doctor excuses himself. Forester takes his place and looks at the chart. His eyes scan the words, and he peers at Anna before dropping the clipboard.
My foot hooks the chair beside the bed, and I plop down it heavily, taking her hand into both of mine and press my lips to her knuckle.
I have so many questions, and they’re all so jumbled in my head that I have stopped trying to separate them. I’m drawing a blank with words clumping together while Forester sits on the other side with the other chair.
He doesn’t say anything, and I silently thank him for not trying to console me with words. I don’t know what I would do if someone were to give me their sympathy. I’m projecting, and I’m not accepting my feelings. Acknowledging Anna being in this hospital bed would be akin to my world crumbling.
It would mean knowing that I could have lost Anna.
I can’t.
Chapter Nine
Anna
“I’m fine, Luke.”
He lowers me on the bed with care; the gentle tuck of blankets and pillows around me are made to cushion my body from the firm mattress under me.
After waking up at the hospital with Leslie’s face hovering over mine and a worried Forester feeding me a glass of water, I found out that I had smoke inhalation from the fire at the college where I went to do some research in the library.
All I remember is that when I returned to Luke’s apartment from the public library with books in my arms, I realized that I was still missing one key content that the public one didn’t have. I figured that it was a short trip, and I would make it home before Luke comes back from work, but I was wrong.
It was a normal day, and I brought a small pretzel to sate my grumbling stomach before I stepped into the university’s library. Finding the book took time because there were just so many books with different editions and volumes from other authors with the same last name.
I got so engrossed into reading that I stayed at the table for more than three hours, and then it happened out of nowhere. My vision blacked out, and then I woke up at the hospital with everyone prodding and asking me questions.
It was then that I realized there was a massive fire caused by six strong Molotov cocktails propelled into the fourth floor of the library, and it caused a big explosion that knocked everyone out.
The news had reported deaths and injuries from people all around campus. The innocent bystanders are also harmed in the process of going to safety because the mob was fueling the innate delinquency in people to cause property damages.
I didn’t get the whole story, but I know enough that I almost died if the tables didn’t protect me from the initial explosion from the cocktails
being hurled through the windows.
Journalists and reporters speculate on the reason behind the attack and whoever was behind it was kept from public eyes; the government has suspects and want to keep it on the down low to prevent any further incidents that could be inspired by people who want their fifteen minutes of fame.
Luke doesn’t talk to me about the incident. He thinks that he’s protecting me from the world when I know firsthand how scary it is to just read a line of words and blacking out within seconds.
It’s frightening to know that I could have blacked out forever.
Forester doesn’t talk to me either. He wants to keep all the information inside his department and with the government until they have a bullet-proof case against the instigators. Many people think it’s a group of environmental activists who thinks that the new building being built on the campus is killing more greens since the university already has so many structures and they are taking over the neighborhood with the new building used for chemical testing.
The old building is safe to do experiments, but the risk of endangering other students who have classes in that building is greater than angering the neighborhood. I can see both sides; the neighborhood wants to stop the university from expanding and taking over with the structures while the college wants to make money but also look out for the students who might breathe in toxic fumes.
Chemical experiments are dangerous, especially when they are testing out new formulas with no knowledge of the outcomes.
“If I sleep any more than this, I’m going to turn into a fossil,” I complain with a pout as he pinches my cheek with a glare.
He’s not going to bully his way into my sleeping schedule.
After I came back from the hospital, he kept me under supervision for forty-eight hours. Luke pulled his rank as the Chief; he wouldn’t let me out of his sight.
It was embarrassing to tell him that going to the bathroom does not require assistance no matter how much the doctor said I needed rest. Smoke inhalation caused my lungs to inflate, and I was having trouble breathing, but it’s not something some antibiotics can’t fix.
