Tristan coughed as she held on to the two dogs in her arms. “Riya, thank God. Dhillon went in after Hetal.” She coughed. “One more dog left, too.”
Riya handed Tristan over to the EMTs.
She turned to her team. “The vet is in there. His sister and a dog.” The guys all looked at each other. “I’m going in. Lieutenant, I need backup.”
Ambrose nodded.
This was Dhillon. Her heart twisted at the idea that something might happen to him. She pushed the thought away. Not on her watch. Not ever again. She was already geared up. She fit her SCBA mask straps as she ran into the clinic.
She instinctively ran to the back where the recovery animals were kept. That was where Dhillon would be.
“Dhillon! Hetal!” she called out.Please let them be okay.
A dog barked not far from where she was, and she headed in that direction. Her stomach turned at a form on the floor. “Dhillon!” She knelt beside him.Oh God oh God oh God. Not Dhillon. This can’t be happening. Not again.He was conscious, but just barely.
Screams came from the other side of the wall of flames in front of her. Riya looked around for a way to access Hetal while keeping Dhillon safe. From behind her she heard heavy, booted footsteps, and then Ambrose leaped over the flames, gaining access to the other side. Riya grabbed the extinguisher next to Dhillon and put out some flames to give Ambrose a path out. More sirens sounded in the distance. Other houses on the way to assist. It was worse than she had originally thought.
She wrapped her webbing, basically a thick strap, around Dhillon’s chest, fastened it at his back, lifted his torso off the ground and started dragging him toward the exit. Luckily, the clinic had tile flooring, so she wasn’t fighting carpet as well. She saw Ambrose holding an unconscious Hetal and a dog.
“Follow me, Desai,” Ambrose grunted.
“Yes, sir.”
She heard Ambrose radio to the captain that they were on the way out and they needed the chopper immediately because someone was burned.Hetal!Riya’s body went weak for a moment. No, not her. Riya refocused her efforts on Dhillon. Nausea threatened to overtake her, but she needed to get him out.
Every step was agonizing. She could only see a foot or two in front of her, the smoke was so thick. Heat from the flames was almost debilitating. All the training she had done and she still felt as though she would melt. Sweat dripped into her eyes inside the SCBA.
She pulled Dhillon with everything she had. The fire could take the building. She’d be damned if she let this fire take Dhillon from her.
Her quads and back screamed and her shoulders stiffened, but she ignored all that. Pain was temporary. Pain was proof you were alive.
Already, Ambrose’s form was blurred by smoke, but Riya followed the hose lines that had been put down by Evans and Alvarez. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, the heat building around her. There was only one option here: to get them all out safely. Period.
She cleared the building and was greeted by a rush of relatively clear air. The paramedics had been waiting, and now two of them rushed over and took Dhillon from her as she fell to her knees and threw off her SCBA. She gulped in fresh air, humid and thick though it was. More sirens wailed, and the thunder of nearby helicopter rotors vibrated through her.
Dhillon was on a gurney. Her heart pounded in her ears. Her muscles screamed. Her lungs ached for oxygen, but she stood, forcing her legs to support her. She needed to assess Dhillon’s condition. He was still breathing, but he needed oxygen after inhaling smoke in the building. She had grabbed the oxygen mask and was placing it over his nose and mouth when a firm hand took hold of hers.
It was Mario, her old partner on the bus. “You’re a firefighter today. We got this, Riya.”
A fourth fire engine screeched to a halt, sirens blaring. Two flight medics in black uniforms disembarked and jogged toward the gurney where paramedics hovered around Hetal. Ambrose had stepped back and had thrown off his SCBA. He was bent over, catching his breath. Riya ran over to Hetal.
What Riya saw made her stomach bottom out. “No. No,” she whispered.
Through the quick movements of the paramedics, Riya caught glimpses of charred skin. Everything slowed down around her.No!The air she had been so grateful for just a moment ago was now impossible to breathe. That could not be her beautiful Hetal, whose scrapes she had healed, whose hair she had brushed and who she had taught to cook. The sight of burned flesh and the stench it produced, coming from someone she loved, was too much, and she turned away and vomited.
She turned back, wiping her mouth. Hetal was unconscious. Riya’s friend Daniel was there, along with his partner, Crista, as they were the flight medics. They were loading Hetal onto the bus to take her to the helicopter.
“Daniel! Crista!” Riya ran to them. “Take me with you! Take me with you!”
Daniel paused and nodded to Crista to continue. “Riya? Riya, what’s the matter?”
“Daniel, you have to take me with you. That’s my—She’s like a sister to me...and it’s my fault.” She wasn’t making any sense, but she had to be sure that Hetal was okay. “It’s all my fault.” She was crying again.
“You know I can’t do that.” Daniel was firm but kind. “We’ll take care of her. I promise.” He glanced behind Riya and nodded at someone. “We need to get her to the hospital.” He jogged over to the ambulance that was his ride and hopped on, closing the doors as it drove off toward the chopper.
Riya tried to run to Hetal, but she couldn’t move. Someone was screaming. Why couldn’t she get to her? And who was screaming?
Strong hands gripped her arms from behind. “Desai! Desai!” Ambrose turned her to face him, his hands still wrapped around her biceps. “Riya! Stop!” His blue eyes were wide and fierce, coming from beneath his helmet and through his ash-stained face.
