“Calvin,” she screamed, heading to Cal’s bedroom instead of the front door. “Calvin!”
He caught her and pointed her to the living room. “Julia, I’ll get him. I promise. We need help on the way. Go call. Now.”
She was reluctant but finally turned toward the front of the cabin. The door to Calvin’s room hadn’t been closed, and two feet of thick smoke clung to the ceiling. Alex coughed and dropped to his hands and knees. This was a lot harder without oxygen filling a mask.
“Calvin,” he shouted between coughs. He got to the bed, but Cal wasn’t in it. Shit! “Cal,” he screamed. With every breath, the smoke thickened. He ran to the closet and jerked open the door. Empty. He checked under the bed, but it was too dark to see anything. He yelled again and swept his arms back and forth as far as he could reach. Nothing.
He left the room and tried to think like a five-year-old. Where would he go if he was scared? Maybe he’d already gone outside. That would be smart.
Smoke was quickly filling the living room, and flames licked the back wall of the kitchen. Instinctively, he knew the fire had started outside. Set intentionally? He’d figure that out later.
He rushed out the front door and gasped for clean air. Julia stood on the bottom step, eyes wide, phone in her hand. “Oh my God, Alex. Where’s Calvin?” She started up the steps.
“No. Stay. I just came to make sure he wasn’t out here. I’ll find him.” Three pairs of boots sat by the door. He threw Julia’s and Cal’s out onto the porch and slipped on his own.
“You can’t find him?” she screeched as he re-entered the house. Not wanting her to follow, he closed and locked the door. He heard her pounding on it as he sucked in a big breath and dashed back into the smoke.
* * *
Oh, God. Her son was lost in a fire, and Alex had locked her out! She pounded and pounded but knew he wasn’t just standing on the other side. He’d gone back to save her baby and didn’t want her following.
She tried to calm down. He was a firefighter. This was his job. He needed her to call EMS. Okay. She pulled on the boots he’d thrown at her and ran to the car. She dialed 911 and started the engine to get the GPS information. The dispatcher calmly asked for the address, told her help was en route, and requested that she remain calm. Fat chance of that.
“My friend is a firefighter. He’s inside, looking for my son, but neither have come out yet.”
“Okay, ma’am. I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to wait. Fire is on the way, but the cabin is a ways up the road. They’ll get there as soon as they can. Do you want me to stay on the line with you?”
“No, I’m going in.” Without waiting for a response, she disconnected and ran back up the steps. What if Calvin had come to the door and was trying to get out but couldn’t figure out the lock?
She lifted the mat, hoping for a key. No such luck. She searched for something to break the nearest window. The only thing was a planter box, but it was full of dirt and too heavy to lift. Scanning frantically, she noticed a wind chime hanging from the overhang and climbed onto the fence railing to grab it. It was a metal cylinder just big enough to fit over her hand. She punched the glass as hard as she could, but it didn’t give. Ignoring the pain, she hit again and again until it finally broke. Thick black smoke poured out, and she had to step away to get clean air. “Calvin,” she screamed, still punching at the window.
“Julia! Get away from there.” Alex had come around the porch from the back. When she looked up, relief washed over her. He held Calvin, both of them coughing and covered in soot.
Tears made it hard to see, but she ran to them and threw her arms around them. Alex snaked an arm around her waist and dragged her off the porch and into the snow. “Did you call 911?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “They’re on their way, but it might be a while. Where was he?”
“Bathroom. Heard the alarm and got scared.”
She followed him to the SUV, where he opened the passenger side door and set Calvin in the seat. He popped the hatchback and pulled a blanket and an oxygen mask out of a big black bag. He returned, wrapped Cal in the blanket, and secured the mask to his face.
“Here,” he said. “Pump on this every couple of seconds. He’s breathing, but it will help to get some pure oxygen in him.”
She did as he said. “What about you?”
“My lungs are bigger. I’ll be fine.”
As she pumped on the mask and reassured Cal, she watched over the backseat as he dug back into the bag and pulled out a gun and a flashlight. He racked the slide to put a bullet in the chamber and then stuck it in his waistband. “Get in the car and lock the doors. I’ll be right back.”
“Alex?”
“Just do what I say. If you see anyone other than me or EMS, lay on the horn.”
* * *
Alex waited until he heard the door locks click, then dashed off to the back of the cabin, which was now almost fully engulfed in flames.
He made a wide circle around the perimeter, looking for any footprints or evidence that someone had been there. He and Calvin had demolished the backyard, but the inch of snow that had fallen since dusk revealed fresh prints. The glare of the fire illuminated a set of footprints going to and from the woods. And the unmistakable red of a plastic gas can melting under the kitchen window. Arson then.
