1
Silas
Tones echo throughout the station.
“Engine 47, Engine 45, Engine 42, Medic 47, Medic 42, multi-vehicle crash intersection of Main and Sossoman. Reports of entrapment. Caller says woman trapped inside is in labor. Time out 17:32.”
“Here we go,” Asher says, putting down his phone after, I’m sure, getting a text from Sienna, saying she made it home okay.
The guy is a little obsessive when it comes to how much he worries about her.
We all get up from where we were sitting and head toward our assigned jobs for the day.
“Silas, you’re on the engine for this call. Myles will take your place as medic,” Captain says.
Frustration rips through me, but I know I can’t fight it. He’s just trying to save me from another tailspin that I went on a few months ago when a, I guess you could say, similar situation went down.
“I’m on it,” Myles, or who we call Ghost Pepper, responds, then playfully sticks his tongue out at me.
He’s lucky he’s my best friend, or I’d sock him—hard.
We get our gear on and head out, lights and sirens, to the location of the accident. When we get there, it’s pure chaos. Some people are trying to help the woman while others watch on in horror.
“Get the Jaws,” I hear someone yell out.
I snap into gear and focus on the task at hand. When I get to the car, the woman screaming makes me stop in my tracks for a second until I block it out and get the apparatus in place.
Myles has crawled in the car through the back seat and is trying to calm the woman down while we work on getting her out.
“My baby! Ahh,” she screams, and my world goes black.
“Silas, out of here,” Atta screams, pushing me out of the way and taking over, bringing me back to reality.
I go help someone in the other car, checking to make sure they are okay. I see where else I am needed until I hear the ambulance speed off, and I look to see the car where the woman was trapped is now empty.
A whoosh of relief fills me, and then I get back to work on what else needs to be cleaned up for the night.
Those of us on the engine head back to the station while the guys on the ambulance don’t get back for a while.
I’m lying in bed when Myles comes in and leans down to whisper, “Mom and baby are fine.”
I pretend to be asleep and act like I haven’t been lying here all night, trying to fight back a panic attack, but internally, I’m super grateful he calmed my nerves with just those five little words.
Though nothing extremely tragic happened last night with that call, the guys all know it messed with me, so we plan to head to Ruby’s—a bar we always hang out at for some choir practice.
“What’s up, Joey?” I say as I enter Ruby’s.
“First one to arrive,” he says, grabbing a beer, opening it, and setting it in front of me before he reaches for a glass to pour me a shot of Patrón.
I’m here so often that I don’t even need to order my first round anymore—Joey just knows.
That’s why I come here. Not only because I think it’s the best place in town, but also because it’s owned by a fellow firefighter at my station named Cooper March—aka Marchy—and his two brothers, Axel and Joey.
I walk to my normal spot and hold the shot up to him. “Here’s to another fucked-up day. May the liquor gods wash my memory away.” I down it, then stand there, dropping my head to my chest and closing my eyes, letting the fire fill my belly and put out the pain trying to rise inside me.
“That bad?” he asks.
Joey is the youngest of the brothers and the one I get along with the most since we graduated high school together and go way back.
