by J. L. Drake
As Officer Cox tried to figure out a possible location for the missing women, I relayed instructions to my crew. A second truck arrived moments later, and one by one we donned our masks and tanks while the second truck started to hook up to the waterlines. We moved as one as we executed our plan.
I kept in contact with my men over the radio. We appeared to be in the center of the club. It was a two-story warehouse, and we could see the flames on the far left of the building. Cook and I branched off and headed for the coatroom, away from Smith and DeTorio, who headed toward the flames. I focused on canceling out the sound of my recycled air and tuned in to my sixth sense.
With each footstep, I counted and tried to keep my breathing to a steady, calculated rhythm. I was good at my job, but never once did I take that for granted. I stared up at the beast and watched it dance across the ceiling. It had one mission—to destroy and consume everything in its path.
Fire breathed and moved to its own plan. Nothing was spared, everything was at its mercy. It reached out to you, called your name, and tempted you to make the first move. It reminded me of a game of chess. Every move counted, and every move could cost your queen.
“Chief?” DeTorio called over the radio, and I could hear it in his voice. “I have the two waitresses. They didn’t make it.”
“Get them out, and we’ll pull back,” Chief responded.
As we started our retreat, something nagged at me, and I felt that prickle that something was off. I held up my hand and stood frozen for a moment but couldn’t get a handle on it. I could hear someone calling. I turned toward the sound and spotted a small closet.
“Cook,” I shouted over the radio, “do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” He leaned back as a piece of flaming timber fell from the ceiling. “Can’t hear anything but the roar.”
I signaled that I was going to head over to the door.
I put my shoulder to the door, but it wouldn’t budge, so I used my axe to break off the handle and pushed through.
“Fire department, call out,” I shouted and stepped farther inside. Suddenly, a small face appeared, and I held my hand up to tell him not to move. I made my way over to him. He was just a little guy, maybe four years old. He looked pale and was covered in soot from head to toe. He was having trouble breathing. I called over the radio for the medic to be ready for the boy once we exited.
“You’re going to be okay,” I yelled, but the poor little guy’s eyes were bloodshot, and his hands shook when he attempted to stand. I scooped the tiny fella up in my arms and motioned to Cook it was time we got out.
I used my glove to cover his hair as we raced through the main part of the bar but stopped short when I saw our exit was now engulfed in flames.
“Chief,” I shifted the boy in my arms and got a better grip on my axe, “we need a new exit.”
“Copy that, Lieutenant,” he replied, and the radio went quiet. Cook gave me a worried look. We had been in a few situations like this one before, where our exit was supposed to hold but was now compromised, but never with a terrified little boy who had a death grip around my neck. Knowing we didn’t have much time as the fire roared at us and flowed across the ceiling, the heat picked up quickly, and I made the tough decision to go up instead of out.
Thankfully, the club had metal stairs that were bolted to the side of the concrete wall. If they were wood, they’d be gone by now. Just as we got to the second floor, I heard a loud snap.
“Watch out,” Cook shouted as a beam from the ceiling let loose and dropped inches from my shoulder. “We need to get out of here!”
“Chief, we need a new exit now!” I whirled and spotted the fire exit sign through the smoke. “We are on the second floor.”
The kid didn’t have protective gear, so we couldn’t even risk going back downstairs, as the fire was closing in on us. His overalls would become a matchstick.
“Chief,” I yelled as I heard my air alarm warning me it was getting low. “No way out.”
“Hold tight. We’re working on it.”
We all knew when one of us said we needed to make an exit now, it was a life or death situation. A moment later, and the ladder burst through the top window and lowered to the windowsill. Relief swept over me.
I tried to hand Johnson the boy and had told Cook to get on the ladder while the flames licked at my heels. I looked behind me and saw the belly of the fire roar with life as oxygen fueled its anger.
“No!” the boy screamed and held on tighter.
I tried to pull him off me, but he was like a sucker fish and wouldn’t let go.
Johnson ripped him from my arms and started to head down the ladder as the kid screamed in fear.
“Go now!” I ordered Cook as I got my footing on the windowsill and turned to see the fire take a breath. Silence fell around us, the hairs on the back on my neck rose, and I knew I was looking death in the eye.
Checkmate.
With all my might, I launched myself toward the ladder and hoped like hell my fingers could grip the steel. The devil reached out and tried to pull me back in, but my body swung and slammed into the side of the ladder, sending a vibration through Cook, who hung on for dear life.
As I caught my breath and said a Hail Mary, I hooked my foot and swung myself back onto the ladder’s rungs as the building gave itself up to the flames. We started our descent toward safety.
I’d broken every rule by what I just did, but I’d deal with the aftermath later.
Once my feet hit the ground and my shaky knees calmed, the chief was in my face with one hell of a pissed-off face. I yanked off my helmet and mask and sucked in a deep breath of fresh air.
“What the hell did you think you were doing up there?”
“Sorry, Chief.” I spat on the ground and ran my fingers through my soaked hair. My chest heaved as more sweet oxygen swirled around my lungs.
The chief put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it with closed eyes then took a moment before he said, “You’re doing the paperwork on this one.”
“Yeah,” I huffed and looked up at the flames that licked the walls as it watched me from above.
The EMT wanted to check me over.
“I’m fine,” I opened my jacket and let the cold air in, “just give me a second to breathe.”
“Give him space,” the chief commanded, and everyone backed off.
“Shit.” I dropped my head in exhaustion but jerked around as I heard a shout.
“Wait!” Brooke, one of our EMTs, shouted, and a moment later I felt someone run smack into me.
The little boy latched on to my leg and wouldn’t let go.
“Sorry, Carter.” Brooke put her hands up. “He won’t let anyone touch him, and he won’t tell me his name.”
“It’s all right. That would have been scary for him.” I rubbed my hand over the top of his head as he tried to climb my leg. “Let me see what I can do.”
“Okay, but I really need to get oxygen into him and check him out.” She stepped back while I sat on the ledge of the truck and moved to his eye level.
“Hey, there, big guy.” I examined the dirty cut on his chin that would need a few stitches. “That was pretty scary in there, huh? You were really brave, you know. Can you put this over your mouth and nose for me? You need this to help you get that smoke out of your lungs, okay?” He let me put the mask over his face as I chatted to keep him calm. “Hey, can you tell me your name, buddy?”
He coughed and seemed to be in shock by the way his eyes were glued to my nametag on the back of my jacket that was laid over my knee. I spotted a small little puppy stuffy that was partially out of his pocket. “Hey, who is this guy?” Tears slipped down his cheeks as he pulled it to his face, and I could tell it was something special.
“Walker?” A woman wearing nothing but a thin, short-sleeved shirt in the middle of winter
and who clearly had tracks down her arms came rushing up. “Walker!” she screamed as an officer stepped in her way. “That’s my neighbor’s son!” Her hands went to her mouth. “Oh, my God, where is she, and where’s Molly? They were both working tonight.”
“Is your name Walker?” He sniffed through the mask and nodded but kept his death grip on my jacket. “That’s a great name, little man.”
“Walker, come here.” The woman held out her arms, and he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed against me. I caught the chief’s gaze, and we both knew something was up.
“You need to keep that mask on, and you don’t have to go to her right now,” I assured him, “but you see my friend Brooke right there?” I pointed in her direction. “She needs to make sure you don’t have any bad stuff in your lungs from the smoke. Would it be all right if she checked you over?”
He crawled up on my lap and buried his face in my neck. My heart broke. Something was clearly wrong here.
“Brooke,” I called her over, “if you go slow and he stays here, you should be able to examine him.”
Brooke moved about doing her thing while I watched Walker’s neighbor try to tell her story and fill in some blanks. The chief did a great job at keeping her away, but when the police started to question her more, she began to panic.
The lead patrol officer had to step in when the husband of the second waitress arrived on scene. The poor man went from zero to one hundred, sobbing and yelling out her name. I had to look away. It tore my heart out that we couldn’t get to them in time. I did, however, register her name, Shelly. She deserved to be remembered by her name.
“Carter,” my good friend Detective Ivan rounded the truck, “you good?”
“It was close, but we’re okay,” I gently rubbed my hand down Walker’s back. “What’s the scoop?”
He hesitated to speak in front of Walker, but I gave him a nod and knew he would tread carefully. “Mom’s an ex-junkie, trying to get herself back on track. Dad isn’t in the picture. The neighbor said she lives over there in the apartment above the pizza joint.” He pointed across the street to a well-known place for people to sober up after clubbing.
“Where’s the mother?”
Ivan took a moment then lifted his brows and pointed with his chin. “She was one of the waitresses. Her name was Molly.”
“Oh, shoot.” I hugged the boy a little tighter.
“One of the employees said the mother often fed the kid at the bar on her break then sent him home, but tonight her sitter canceled, and she had him in the back room until after her shift.”
So that’s why the hell a child was in a nightclub.
“Any idea how old he is?”
“Ah,” he checked his notes, “he’s six.”
“Damn,” I whispered, “he looks a lot smaller than six.”
“I’ll call Child Protective Services and get them to meet me at the station.” He went to move toward Walker, but the little guy started to scream. Ivan immediately stepped back. “I’m not good with kids.”
“He needs to go to emergency. I’ll stay with him until CPS shows up.”
“You sure?”
“It’s the least I can do for the little guy.”
“Sounds good to me.” Ivan called in the change of plans.
I watched as everyone worked tirelessly to do their job, while I tried to get my head back on straight and continue to breathe in some sweet oxygen. Chief made some calls and got our truck relieved from the scene.
“Let’s go!” The chief’s voice boomed over the chaos.
“Carter?” Brooke shifted her head toward her EMT truck.
“Want to ride with me, Walker?” He gave me a slight nod.
Walker wouldn’t let go of me the entire ride and climbed back in my arms when we hopped out of the truck. He didn’t like the gurney and insisted on holding my arm in a death grip. Poor kid was terrified out of his mind.
I had to step out of the room while they checked him out and made sure his lungs were clear. Smoke in the lungs was a deadly killer, so despite his tears and sniffles, I knew he needed it.
Once they were finished, I went right back in and pulled up a chair.
“You were really brave, Walker.” I pulled his blanket up higher and made sure his puppy-stuffy was good and tucked him in too. “I know this is all really confusing and scary, but things have a way of working out.” When he didn’t respond, I tried a different angle. “You know,” I pulled my chair in closer, “when I was a boy, I had a dalmatian stuffed puppy. His name was Latch, and he was fearless. I knew that no matter how scared I was, Latch would always be there to help me through it. He’s my best friend even until this day.” His big blue eyes moved over to find mine, and I saw his small fingers fiddle with the puppy’s ear. “I’ll make you a deal, Walker.” I leaned my weight on the bed, feeling tired myself. “You close your eyes and get some sleep, and I promise I won’t leave this room.” His head nodded, and he soon drifted off to sleep.
“He really likes you,” Cook whispered from the doorway. “How did he handle you cleaning his cut chin?”
“He took it like a champ. Luckily, they used liquid stitch.”
“Good.” He nodded.
“You get checked out?” I needed to check on my team, but I also wanted to keep my promise to the kid.
“We’re all good.” He knew me well enough to not push the emotional side of a situation. We had to be careful with how much we opened up, or the job would swallow us whole. “Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure.”
“Good.” I rubbed my face. “I will spend the night here. I don’t want CPS coming in and sending him into another fit.”
“I’ll stay, too.” He dropped my personal bag from the station on the floor. “I won’t leave, but you should get cleaned up.”
“Thanks, man.”
“Thank me with a beer later.”
I did my best to clean up in the restroom. At least the change of clothes felt better. When I returned, I found Cook reading his phone on the opposite side of the bed. Cook was a great friend. We’d gone through the academy together and had each other’s back since. Cook had floated around a few fire stations before he was assigned permanently to mine, Firehouse Fifty-Seven.
“Feel better?”
“Yeah, thanks.” I propped my feet up on the edge of the bed and leaned my head back, needing a quick five minutes of shuteye.
“So, you wanna tell me about that grin I saw earlier?”
I held up my middle finger and let my mind drift, hearing him chuckle. I slept like the dead, so apparently my body needed the rest, and I wasn’t about to protest.
CPS showed up the next morning with Walker’s grandmother, who looked like she had been through the wringer and back herself.
“Is he okay?” She was nearly in tears as she waited patiently with the case worker outside Walker’s room.
“He’s scared.” I heard Cook try to soothe her as I gathered Walker’s belongings. He was given a fresh pair of pants and a t-shirt since his overalls were covered in soot.
“I’m scared,” Walker whispered as I helped him get his shoes on.
I shifted onto the bed and tugged my bag to me.
“How can you be scared when Latch is here?” I took my old, well-loved TY Beanie with big, bright blue eyes from my bag and handed it to him. It was time to say goodbye, and as superstitious as I was, I knew he needed this more. “Why don’t you look after Latch for me?”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but you know what that means, right?” He shook his head. “It means you need to come back and visit me with him. Do you think you can do that?”
“Yes.” His slight lisp was friggin’ cute.
“Good. Now, your grandmother is here and is really worried, so why don’t we go show her you’re all right?” He crawled onto my l
ap, wanting me to carry him. I scooped him up, grabbed our stuff, and headed out.
“Is my mommy here?” he asked as he grabbed my shirt.
“No, buddy, she’s not.” It wasn’t my place to tell him the truth, and yesterday he was clearly in shock.
“Good.” He sniffed, and I tried to push my sadness away at the comment. No child should feel that way about their parent, at least not at this age.
As we stepped out of the room into the hallway, I heard Cook’s voice. “He has become very attached to one of our firemen, though. He hasn’t let him out of his sight since he was rescued.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. He’s so desperate for love. My daughter,” she tried to keep her voice strong, but I could hear the quiver in it as I eavesdropped, “has put him through so much. He’s only six but has seen things that would make you sick. She was always a selfish one, and once the drugs got hold of her, well, there wasn’t much I could do. Sadly, I knew this day would come.” She pulled off her glasses and dabbed her bloodshot eyes. “I once tried to gain custody, but they said I was too old to raise someone so young, especially since he had his own mother and she’d promised to clean herself up.”
“What about now?”
“I’d do anything for Walker. I may be old and have some health issues, but I don’t think they’ll argue this time. I’ll try my hardest to give him a good life. That is if they’ll let me keep him.” She eyed the case worker, who smiled at her.
“You’re a good person.” Cook stepped back when he heard us approach. “Here is Lieutenant Carter, the one I was telling you about.”
“Oh, Walker.” The grandmother covered her mouth and started to cry. “My poor baby.” She reached for him but decided against it when he started to cry, too. “I’m sorry, honey. I wish…I wish I could have done more to help you.” She looked at me for help, and honestly, I had no idea what to do.
