I shake my head. “I didn’t save him.” My voice is heavy, filled with the guilt and remorse of that fucking night.
“Bullshit.”
I look at my new captain.
“You pulled a mother and her two children out of a fire that night at great risk to yourself. As far as I’m concerned, that partially qualifies you to be assigned to my station.”
“Partially?”
“You still have to prove yourself. To me and to your new squad. Take these.”
He tosses me a set of locker keys.
“Your new uniform is waiting for you inside.” With that, he turns and walks around his desk, sitting in his chair and looking down at a new stack of papers. Apparently, I’ve been dismissed.
Taking the keys, I head back down the hall, past the stairs, and around the corner to the row of lined metal lockers with made up cots in front of them. I match the number on the set of keys with one of the lockers, and use them to open it. Hanging inside is a brand new navy polo but this one has the name Rescue Four emblazoned across the back. I remove the shirt from the hanger and hold it up, looking it over.
“It’s our new shirt.”
I turn to find Carter leaning against the wall behind me, eating an apple.
“Nice, right?”
“Not a bad look but fuck off.” I ball the shirt up and toss it at him.
He begins chuckling.
“You guys are going to have to try harder to get over on me,” I insist, laughing at the goofy prank they tried to pull. “Rescue Four is supposed to be the best of the best, and that’s all you can do?” I shake my head, disappointed.
“Oh, trust me, we’re just getting started.” Carter wiggles his blond eyebrows and saunters off, chuckling to himself.
After putting my bag inside of my locker with my car keys and wallet, I close my locker, locking it with the keys before placing them in my pocket.
I take on final look around before heading down to the main floor of the station.
“Roll call!” I hear as soon as my foot hits the first floor.
“Townsend?”
“Yup!” Carter replies as he moves past me, retrieving a form from the guy doing the roll call.
“Donnie?”
“Fuck off,” Don yells, moving closer.
A few laughs are heard around the room.
“Tighten up, Donnie. You’re on inspection duty.”
Don grumbles and heads in the direction of the garage where the fire trucks are parked.
“McClellan?”
“Present!”
A louder round of laughter ensues.
“Who the fuck sayspresent?This ain’t the third fucking grade, McClellan!” Don tosses over his shoulder as he walks toward the garage.
