Two more ladders go up to the fourth and fifth floors. Two more hoses drench the flames as turnouts appear, carrying residents out of the building and down the ladders.
It’s slow.
The residents are not used to the height or the situation. Some cling to the rails, holding up the evacuation.
I can’t see Owens . . . or Hammond.
Miles.
A boom cracks through the street as the roof caves in.
“Holy shit,” I utter.
“Oh, fuck.” Davey adjusts his grip on the hose, sending it to the fifth floor where smoke now billows out.
Whatever the flame just found has sent chaos outward.
I search through the people on the ground. The residents and onlookers, the firefighters.
Schmiddy.
Sandy.
A few crewmembers from 41 and 37 I recognize.
No Owens.
No Hammond.
A lump rises, occluding my last breath as my grip on Davey’s shoulder releases. I’m moving for Sandy before I realize I’ve left my post.
“Sandy?” I call out.
He spins back, hand still on the controller of the ladder.
“Where are they?”
His dark eyes flick to the building. “They’ll be out soon.”
I know I’m not supposed to panic. I know I’m not supposed to leave my station. I know?—
Shit.
I can’t breathe.
“Tennison, Hammond won’t leave her behind.”
He thinks I’m worried about Heidi. I mean, I am. But the emotion closing over my damn throat is not for her.
Not entirely.
“Tennison!” Davey’s calling me back.
Sandy nods to the hose behind me. “Go, they’ll be out soon. Promise.”
Without the ability to form a response, I jog back to the hose and take over. Davey’s hand lands on my shoulder, and I set them back. The wind shifts, setting the smoke pouring from the southern windows. I move the water across, to the closest point of access I can.
A man who looks like the building manager stands with Schmiddy, starting a headcount. When he confirms every resident is free of the building, I send my gaze back to the apartment block.
