Page 33 of Vegas with my Brother’s Best Friends

I put my helmet on and adjust my gloves as the truck tears through the streets, entering the neighborhood where I can already see a familiar orange glow in the distance.

“Definitely upstairs,” I mutter once the burning house comes into view.

Fire crawls up the roof from the upstairs windows that are already shattered. Smoke rolls up into the dark sky, the sound of crackling and snapping filling the air. Concerned neighbors line the sidewalk on the other side of the street as they watch the horror unfold.

It could’ve easily been any of their houses.

The truck parks on the street, and our crew hops out to jump into action.

“Please, help! Please!” a woman rushes over to us, tears streaking her cheeks.

A man in a robe closely follows her, eyes wide with worry.

“Are you the owners of the house?” I question them as Ashton and Britney follow me.

They both nod.

“I can’t find Jacob. He’s our son,” the woman tells me, her voice shaking. “His bedroom is upstairs. I tried calling for him, but the fire had already spread into the hallway. I couldn’t get to his room!”

“What side of the house is his bedroom on? Left or right?” I ask as I look over their heads at the house.

The fire continues to spread, eating away at anything that it can reach. It’s spilling through nearly every window that I can see from here.

“Left. All the way to the left,” the man replies, pointing that way.

“There’s a window in his bedroom?” Ashton asks him.

He nods. “It’s the only upstairs window on that side.”

That’s our shot. It’s way better than trying to brave interior stairs that might already be on fire.

“Get the ladder. I’ll go through the window and carry him out through there when I find him,” I tell Ashton and Britney before guiding Jacob’s parents away from the house. “I need you to stay out of the way, okay? I’m going after your son.”

“Please, save him,” the mom begs me.

I pull away from them as my crew grabs the ladder off the truck and carries it toward the left side of the house. Smoke pours out of the bedroom window above me, and I can see the glow of fire from inside.

The fire must’ve not started from there.

I’ve got a real chance to save him if I can find him.

“Let’s go!” I say, motioning for the others to hurry.

They place the ladder against the side of the house, lining up the top with the bedroom window.

I grab hold of the sides and start climbing up, pushing down my fear. My hesitance. My doubt.

If my dad could run into danger where bullets were flying and explosions were going off, I can run into a house on fire.

I reach the window and try to peer through the smoke. “Jacob! Can you hear me?”

All I hear in response is the crackling of the fire.

“Jacob!” I shout even louder, desperation starting to creep in. I only have so much time to safely get him out.

More crackling.

Until there’s another sound.