I open the cupboard and pull out a mug. Inspecting it, I decide it’s far too small. This old man is tired. I slide it back and grab the biggest one I can find.
Better.
I spoon three tablespoons of Milo into the mug as the radio squawks away. The three guys from 43 huddle closer.
Okay, I’ll bite. “What’s happening?”
“School fire. Multi-story. 41 was on scene first,” Howard says, not looking away from the radio.
Good, at least Barratt is better than Schmiddy, slightly. I turn and head for the stairs, budgets wait for no man.
“Fi—firefighter down. MAN DOWN!”
I freeze, mid-step, mug raised halfway to my mouth.
My heart takes off, flinging against my rib cage, desperate to flee the space.
“Davey is down, I repeat, Davey is dow?—”
The radio squeals before it dies out.
The mug leaves my grip, hitting the top step as it shatters.
43 rushes the hallway, heading for the pole.
Cap spins back, gaze pinning me where I stand.
Oh fuck no.
I take the steps three at a time, round the foyer, and burst into the garage. I’m pulling on my turnouts before Cap makes it through the doorway. “Absolutely not, Hammond.”
I spin back, a growl rattling my throat. “Youput him in charge. This is on you.” My finger stabs his chest before I turn back and jump up into 43.
London is the only thing I have left to lose. Like hell I’m sitting on my damn hands while she’s out there, following dangerous orders.
Davey. Fuck.
Howard glances at me before shifting the engine into gear.
We roll out into the night, and I pray to whoever the hell is listening we’re not too late.
Hold on, beautiful. Fucking hold on.
The night floats past too slow, like it knows I’m not where I’m supposed to be. Like it’s betting on Schmiddy to win, too.
“Remember your promise. Please remember, London,” I utter to no one. The headset that’s supposed to be on my head sits in my lap, cradled in my hands.
Mathers nods to the set and I slide it on. “Three minutes out, Cap.”
His empathetic smile may as well be an axe to my beating heart.
Like 43 was rooting for me.
Howard rolls the engine onto Third, and the scene is worse than I expected.
Barratt is scanning the burning structure as crews stand helpless by the curb. The last defense, the hoses, stream toward the building, the water turning to steam instantly.
Howard’s hot on my heels as I stalk for Barratt.
