14
DYLAN
By the timewe reach the edge of town, I can already see the plumes of smoke reaching high into the air. The smell of burning is thick, even from inside the van, and Callum and I exchange a look as Joe hurtles through the empty streets and toward the east side where the fire seems to be closing in.
“What do you think happened?” Callum mutters.
I shake my head. “Who knows. Could have been the sun, could have been some asshole starting a bonfire to cook beans and then not putting it out properly. We don’t need to worry about that now. We just need to get this under control.”
My brother’s face hardens and he nods in agreement. Beside me, Carlisle is putting on his respirator, and he tosses us both one. I prefer to go in without anything obscuring my vision, but right now, I don’t think we have a choice.
Joe screeches the van to a halt outside the school, and I throw open the doors and climb out. The chaos waiting for us on the other side is almost enough to give me pause. I stand there for a second, just trying to take it all in, but I get the feeling that theextent of the damage isn’t even fully visible from where we’re standing right now.
The school is on fire—the roof seething in a sea of flames, the telltale cracking and snapping telling me that it’s already spread to the interior of the building. A few trees dot the playground, and they serve as conduits for the fire to leap across to the town hall on the square.
Joe points toward the town hall, tossing a hose over his shoulder as Carlisle grabs the water tank. “Start there!” he calls out.
“But the school?—”
“The school’s already done for,” Joe cuts off Carlisle sharply. “We need to take out the fires in the places that might still survive.”
Carlisle doesn’t exactly look pleased with that answer, but he knows it’s right. I saw the look on Angelie’s face when she realized that the fire was close to the school too—I don’t want to have to leave it burning any more than he does, but we can’t let emotion get in the way of what needs to be done.
Callum mans the hose as I move the tank, Joe pulling down his respirator as we approach the town hall. Carlisle and Joe work their way around the back while Callum aims a streak of water at the far end of the tiled roof, wiping out the first lick of flames before it can do any more damage.
Once we’ve taken out the front, we move around to the back to help Joe and Carlisle—only to find that one of the boughs on the roof has snapped loose and dropped to the ground, sending fire speeding along the wooden porch and toward the main building.
Callum swings his hose around expertly, steering the water flow to the porch and dousing it just before it reaches the main door. The heat is almost unbearable, the air quivering with the weight of it, heat haze hanging between us and the school. Joe pushes back his helmet for a moment so he can speak, perhaps sensing that it’s easiest for him to take control given that Carlisle is clearly so caught up in trying to keep Angelie’s school from burning to the ground.
“We’ll take the school,” he announces. “Callum, Dylan, work down the other side of the street—make sure it hasn’t jumped to any more of the buildings, alright?”
“On it,” Callum replies, and he leads the way, leaving me to catch up with him as best I can.
The sky is blackened with smoke, and I try to look past the tall buildings to see where it might have started, but I can’t make out much. We can figure out the cause of all of this later, and honestly, by the time the forces arrive from the city, we should have the worst of it under control. The question is what kind of damage will be left behind in the aftermath, and whether we’ll be able to rescue the school before it’s entirely burned to the ground.
Callum and I work our way up the street, occasionally lifting the hose to douse whatever small flames have managed to infiltrate the surrounding buildings. It feels twisted, seeing this place that I grew up in aflame like this—the diner, the school, the town hall, all of it under threat. So much of this town was built from the logging industry, so the long-standing buildings are almost entirely made of would, which basically renders the whole place perfect kindling for fire to tear through it in a matter of hours.
We reach the top of the street, and I stand there for a moment, looking back down to Devin Ridge below me—and my heart sinks. Several of the buildings are still giving off drifting layers of smoke, and the school looks as though it has collapsed in on itself, the roof tumbling inward to crush the classrooms inside. Thank fuck we didn’t give in on letting anyone back into the town. I don’t even want to think about what might have happened if there had been children in there, God forbid, or if Angelie had been?—
“We have to help them with the school,” Callum tells me. “You want me to take the tank for a bit?”
“No, I can handle it,” I reply. I might be showing the strain on my face, but it has nothing to do with the tank in my hands and everything to do with the pain I know is going to hit Angelie like a ton of bricks when she realizes the school has been destroyed. Ever since the two of us hooked up again, I’ve felt that draw to her, that connection that I can’t name. The same one that I have tried my level best to ignore for so long, but that has come back with a fearsome force now that I’ve tasted it. And the thought of her being hurt like that, losing her livelihood…
Callum leads the way, and I follow, trying to keep myself grounded. Last thing I need is to freak out right now, or let my feelings for Angelie get in the way of what needs to be done.
We reach the sidelines of the school once more, to find Joe and Carlisle dousing the flames that have crept up the right side, even reaching out into the playground equipment, the wooden base of a slide caught up in the scarlet-orange heat. It’s so fucking twisted, seeing the place where children are meant to play and feel their safest brought low by the fire.
“Take it out!” Joe yells to me, the cracking and crumbling of the building filling the air. Callum swivels the hose, aims it at the slide, and dumps enough water on it to put it out—but it stands, blackened, no doubt weakened too much to bear the weight of any child again.
Callum leads the way toward the school. Through the few unbroken windows, I can see flames in the corridors, in the classrooms. The collapsed roof has smothered some of them, but it still takes a concentrated effort from all four of us to snuff out the fire on the ground floor. I don’t know how much will be salvageable, but at this point, I’ll take anything I can get.
I don’t know how long we’re working around the school, trying to keep the fire contained at least to this single building so the harm doesn’t spread any further than it already has. Soon, the tanks are getting low, the water sputtering out of the end of the hose.
Carlisle pushes back his respirator to lock eyes with us, gesturing along the street. “Get to the diner!” he calls out. “We can refill there and?—”
Before he can finish what he’s saying, sirens cut through the air. Spinning around, I see three fire trucks racing up the hill toward us—looks like the reinforcements from the city had no choice but to turn up at last. I sink back on my heels, catching my breath, the adrenaline pumping through my system the same way the smoke tangles with the air above us.
Casting an eye over the school before us, I know that whatever damage has been done there is not the kind that can be fixed. Not without a whole lot of hard work, anyway. Angelie’s words to Carlisle echo in my mind, the way she begged him to make sure the school was okay, the aching desperation in her voice, asthough she would have done anything in the world to make sure of it. And now…
