Page 10 of Burned By Fire

We arrive at the scene at the same time as the ambulance and split into teams. I follow Dylan to the nearest car. Liam tries to move the crowd back out of the way. Luckily, rush hour hasn’t started yet and this is a quiet area of town. Dylan looks around to assess the risks while I go to the car. I can’t see an oil spill or any loose power cables, so it’s safe for me to proceed.

“There doesn’t seem to be any pedestrians injured,” he shouts, and I nod in acknowledgment.

“Ma’am, can you hear me?” I ask as I approach the driver’s side door. Her head is bleeding and her response is only a few blinks.

“I need an EMT over here,” I shout, and Kaye comes over. She’s stationed at the firehouse with her partner, Leanne.

“Ma’am, where does it hurt?” Kaye asks. The woman blinks again but doesn’t speak. “She’s not responding as I’d like,” Kaye says. “We need to get inside the vehicle.”

The doors to the car are all locked. I use my fire hook to break the window in the rear passenger side and climb into the car. Once Kaye secures the driver’s neck and checks her vitals, I help lift her out of the vehicle onto a spinal board. The EMTs get to work on securing her in the ambulance, and I move to the next car, where the team is already removing the driver’s door. Prizing the metal away from the frame, I help rescue the victim before we re-group.

“Great job, guys. We’re finished here. Let’s get back to Firehouse 13 and leave the police to clear up,” Dylan says.

We ride back to base and shower before getting changed. Then I head to the kitchen and prepare lunch. Everyone tucks in, and I take a seat at the end of the table. Until we get a new candidate, I cook the meals for our shift, and I honestly don’t mind. Once I’m done, I catch sight of the Prescott chief coming out of Dylan’s office.

“Hello, Ember,” he says with a warm smile.

“Hello, Chief,” I say, standing taller.

“I’ve already told you, please call me Riley.”

I nod. “Sure, Chie… I mean, Riley. What brings you here?”

“Just business talk, that’s all. Have you had a chance to think about my offer?”

“I haven’t. Sorry, Sir. I like it here in Armstrong, and it’s a difficult decision.” I shrug an apology. A decision like this can’t be rushed, and I want to think it over.

“You’re never going to get the kind of action you would at Prescott.”

“Probably not.” What he’s saying is true. Armstrong is a small town with less than half the population of Prescott, but I never saw myself leaving my hometown. Well, until my mom kicked me out, that is. Now, everything’s different because I’m on my own.

“I won’t wait forever, but give my offer some thought and get back to me.” He slips a pink transfer form into my hand and leaves me watching him disappear. When Dylan opens his office door, I quickly push it into my pocket.

The rest of the shift isn’t very eventful. I rescue a cat from a tree and help put out a dumpster fire behind a restaurant. When it’s home time, I get changed and shove the transfer paper into my duffle bag.

Prescott would be a good opportunity, and the more I think about it, the worse my head hurts. Before I can stop myself, I’m en route to Sol’s house and knocking on his door. After a few moments, he answers.

“Can I come in?” I ask.

“What do you want?” he asks, stumbling on his words.

I came here to check on him with the excuse of talking about my Prescott dilemma, but I wasn’t expecting to find him like this. “Are you drunk?” Folding my arms across my chest, I stare at him. I’m annoyed he’s intoxicated again. “You don’t need alcohol. You’re a good man and you need to stop doing this.” I push my way inside to find the room littered with empty beer cans and used plates. This place is a mess. My fist tightens as anger sweeps over me. I take some cutlery into the kitchen loudly putting it in the sink and grab a trash bag so I can clean up.

He ignores my question, but it doesn’t matter because I already know the answer. “I didn’t ask for your help,” he grits out against clenched teeth.

“You didn’t need to. Look at this place. Look at you.” I don’t stop collecting the garbage. I’m preparing for an argument.

“I’m not the hero you had me painted as now, am I?” I glance at him, but he’s closed his eyes.

I hate when he talks like this. Why can’t he see what I see? “You are. You just need… I don’t know. A new purpose.” I take the bag and some plates into the kitchen. When I return, Sol’s in the doorway.

“Is that why you’re here? To give me a reason to stop drinking?” He touches my brown hair and my breath hitches. “So soft.” He leans in and smells my head. I stay frozen to the spot as confusion washes over me. He’s never done anything like this before. It feels nice, although the circumstances are all wrong. He’s just drunk and maybe lonely. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

“You’re not going to scare me away. The reason I came isn’t important right now. We can talk about it when you’re sober. Let’s get you up to bed so you can sleep off the alcohol.”

I make the mistake of touching his left shoulder, ready to push past him. He grabs my wrist with his good arm, but not tight enough for it to hurt.

“Get out,” he says in a whisper.

“Don’t do this,” I say, moving my hand back.

“I said, get out.” He gestures to the door.

I take a deep breath and do as he asks. I hear something smashing inside, and I’m torn between leaving and going back in. I shouldn’t have come. I race back to my car as the first tear falls down my cheek. I knew things were bad for Sol, but I hadn’t realized how bad. I’ll give him the space he’s requested, but I’m not giving up.

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