They didn’t need to be traumatized further by an alpha barking questions. Corvin had little to no tact in these situations.
“My baby is in there,” she cried out.
“A human baby?” I clarified, shocked that she was standing out here at all if that was the case.
“No!” she bellowed. “He’s my tortoise. His name is Baby. I can’t lift him.”
I glanced back at my team and then at the house, gauging the danger levels. Between Apollo and Corvin, they already had the hose primed and running.
“The house still looks stable,” Corvin said as I hurried over. “Fire’s contained to the kitchen, more than anything. We need to move.”
“I’m going in,” I said. “There’s a pet inside.”
Corvin looked like he was ready to argue, but I was already pulling the mask over my face and rushing in.
The smoke inside was thick. It was dense enough that it was hard to see. There were tortoises everywhere in the décor: artwork on the walls, little figurines scattered around. But the real thing wasn’t in plain sight. It wasn’t like a dog I could call out to, either.
This situation could turn bad, fast, if I didn’t hurry.
I cleared the small house room by room until I finally reached a screened-in porch at the back. The smoke wasn’t as bad out there thanks to the mesh windows.
And there, right in the middle, chomping on a massive pile of vegetables and heads of lettuce, was a monster of a tortoise. The kind I’d only ever seen at a zoo.
He was living like a king out here with a little hut, a bed, even a small kiddie pool off to the side.
“All right, big fella,” I said as I approached.
He looked up from his meal, chewing slowly, completely unimpressed by the sight of me.
I propped open the screen door and tried to grab him by the shell, guiding him toward the exit. There was no way I was lifting this giant beast, but I didn’t want him hurt, either.
He made a growling noise but didn’t cooperate, instead snatching up a carrot and crunching down on it.
Trying a new tactic, I gathered up the vegetables and tossed them out of the back door, a safe distance from danger. Helooked at me again, and I swore this turtle had more attitude than I ever thought possible.
Finally, he started moving, faster than I expected. It threw me off balance, and I tumbled down the ramp she’d built for him, spilling out onto the grass.
“Oh, Baby, you’re alive!” the woman screeched as she rushed around to the back.
Leaving her to fawn over the creature, I hurried back to help the others. Corvin and Apollo were both manning the hose now, one of the younger rookies pitching in since backup had arrived. The fire was almost completely contained now. A quick response made all the difference.
I’d spent most of this call fighting a giant turtle… not exactly a heroic tale.
It didn’t take long to get everything under control, making sure every last spark was out. Then came the fun part. The paperwork.
“Did you seriously run into a burning building to save a fucking turtle?” Corvin asked.
I could’ve argued and say I didn’t, but we all knew that would’ve been a lie. I had absolutely gone into a burning building to save a pet.
And I’d do it again.
“No, a tortoise. More like a dinosaur, than a turtle,” I argued. “And it’s not like I wouldn’t have gone in for a dog or a cat.”
Corvin let out a low growl but didn’t protest further. We’ve done this song and dance too many times to count.
“You’re on paperwork duty,” he bit out.
For once, I didn’t fight it. Apollo just shrugged. He wasn’t about to volunteer himself instead. The moment we pulled back into the station, he rushed off, mumbling something about getting food started.
