I didn’t always want to be a firefighter. Not like Robbie did. But it’s a part of me now, and I’m damn good at it.
“Axford,” Hugh calls from near Engine 1, then immediately breaks into a coughing fit like his lungs are trying to escape his body. “Gear up. We’re rolling in ninety seconds, Cinderella, and you don’t wanna be late.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” I shout. “Go home and get back in bed.”
“I’m feeling better. So much better, I was already here—” He coughs again. “Catching up on paperwork. I’m going stir-crazy at home.”
I shake my head. “Then go back to your paperwork. I’ve got this, Hugh.”
I grab my turnout gear from my locker. Around me, radios are crackling, boots are stomping, engines rumble. Greene’s there, suited up and bouncing on his toes like he’s getting ready to run a race.
I catch his eye. “Greene. You sticking by my side tonight?”
“You got it.” He gives me a salute, then laughs, hyped up and eager, like he’s already feeling the adrenaline rush.
I make a mental note to keep him close.
Hugh appears, fully geared up despite my warnings. “Axford, Greene, Herzog, Delphi, you’re with me.”
I try again to persuade Hugh to stay behind. “Dude, the winds are high. It’s gonna be a clusterfuck?—”
“I’ve been at this longer than you have, Ames.” He claps me on the shoulder. “It’s my job to take care of these guys. Would you stay back, if it was you?”
I shut up because while I’d like to think I would, that I’d be smart about it, I’m a little too aware these days that while logic might talk a good game, my heart won’t always listen.
We load into Engine 1. I’m in the back with Greene and Delphi, who’s notquitea probie anymore and actually follows instructions. Through the window, I see Holden getting back in his SUV, phone pressed to his ear like he’s coordinating with dispatch.
The ride out to Sullivan Timber takes less than five minutes, but as always when I’m heading to a fire, it feels long. My blood’s up, and I’m thinking about the wind feeding the flames.
Then we pull into the long driveway, past the metal gate and the No Trespassing signs, and I see the sky’s lit up orange.
The Sullivan Timber mill is a sprawling, two-story structure. There’s an old, retrofitted sawmill from the 1800s on one side and a recently constructed wing of offices on the other.
It appears at first that the whole thing’s completely engulfed because the roof on the mill side is already up in flames, and the firelight’s glinting off the windows of the offices. But as we get closer, I see that the east side of the building hasn’t caught… yet.The way the wind’s sending sparks and embers spiraling into the night,though, it’s only a matter of time before it does. Hell, the entire pine forest, which is about a hundred feet from the structure on two sides, is liable to become a giant pile of kindling.
“Holy shit,” Greene says next to me, eyes focused on the internal structure of the mill, which is glowing like a hellmouth.
On the one hand, I don’t blame him for gawping. I’ve done this job for over a decade, and I want to stare too. We don’t get a lot of structure fires this big around here. But also…
“Focus,” I snap, tapping his helmet.
When we pull up, Tanker 2’s already in position. James and Porto have found a hydrant and are deploying hose.
It’s almost funny that I was lamenting how loud the wind was just an hour ago, and now I can’t hear it at all. It’s drowned out by the roar of the engines, which are almost drowned out by the roar of the fire.
Hugh’s voice comes over the radio. “Structure’s a total loss. James and the crew on the first team cleared it. Priority now is containment. Wind’s gusting—” He breaks off for a second. “Thirty miles an hour out of the west, so watch for spot fires and flying debris. Engine 1 crew, we’retaking the western exposure. Standard defensive operation. Keep the exterior wet, protect the tree line. Understood?”
We all mutter agreement, but I grab Greene’s biceps anyway and force him to look at me. “Standard defensive operation means no one gets within fifty feet of the structure. Got it?”
He nods.
We’re pulling hose when the chief’s truck screams into the mill parking lot, lights flashing. The door flies open and Robbie jumps out, already wearing half his gear.
I shake my head, wanting to yell at him for gearing up while driving, but I can’t. For one thing, he’s too far away. For another… my chest’s gone tight at the sight of him.
All those things I should feel for Auden—the knowing, the needing,the literalyou’re the last thing I think about before I head into danger? I feel them now in spades, and my brain’s too busy doing my job to shut them down.
“Chief on scene.” Robbie’s deep voice cuts through on the radio. “I have command. James, what’s the situation on the east side?”
