Page 10 of Burn Point

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Nate

I was six hours into overtime after my twenty-four-hour shift and had gotten approximately one hour of sleep. There were another six long hours to get through before the end of shift. A steaming-hot shower and an ice-cold beer beckoned like it never had before.

Captain Collins pulled his pickup next to the UTV I was loading with water. “Which way you headed, Williams?”

I slipped a case of water into the last open space on the cart and dropped my jump bag on top of it. On top of the shitty scene, we had a handful of radio equipment suddenly die on us. We resorted to using our personal cells, but could’ve done without the added frustration.

“I’ve got sector two with GSAR.”

The Georgia Search and Rescue Squad had deployed to help us assess homeowners. We’d split the city into quadrants and were going door to door checking on people. If no one answered, we searched the house. If there was no house, we searched the rubble. As we entered, we spray painted half an X, on the structure or the drive, some place easily seen, to indicate there were personnel inside. Once complete, we finished the X and listed the number of occupants, or dead bodies, found.

Thankfully, we’d found no casualties—a miracle given the utter devastation of the storm.

I was loaded up to deliver supplies to the other SWAT medic before joining the search and rescue team again.

“Check in when you get there and make sure you get something to eat. There is a food truck out, serving tacos to everyone.”

“Will do.” I rounded the back of the vehicle and climbed in. What I wouldn’t do for a fifteen-minute power nap right now.

Between running calls and busting up fights amongst the newer guys, I was toast. And that thought reminded me… “Hey Captain, did you hear about the incident with Rook last night? He was wired. I had to get rude with him a time or two. I guess he flipped under the pressure.”

Captain Collins’s brow dipped. “What happened?”

“He got into it with a guy from A-Shift in front of some civilians. I had to grab both by the shirt and get in their face a little.”

Collins scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “That guy.”

“I handled it. But in case you get any complaints on us, thought you should know.”

“Right. Thanks.” He dropped a hand to the gearshift, and the metallic clunk of the transmission engaged. He bent his arm in the window and regarded me for a moment.

“You all right?” Captain Collins was a good boss, a good man. Way more perceptive than he let on. He was also the hardest working captain in the department. Admitting that the events overnight had worn me down felt like admitting to failure.

“Yeah, boss, I’m just tired. It was a hell of a night.”

Hell, we were all running on fumes at this point.

The memory of a set of long legs, curly hair, and the sweet feel of a soft body in my arms had kept me going.

I usually didn’t think past a call. But I couldn’t shake the memory of the woman from the collapsed house. Which was stupid. She was fine. She’d never remember me anyway. I was just the guy who pulled her out of a horrible situation, and I was just doing my job. She’d forget I existed, and life would move on.

And they still needed me on the job, no matter how tired I was. I’d push myself to the limit if I knew there might be someone else out there stuck in the rubble.

Collins watched me a moment longer then slapped the door of his truck and with a nod to me, he pulled away.

A man of few words, and an old-school veteran of the fire department, he’d been a part of the brotherhood back in the day when all we ran were fire calls. I had started just as the department switched over. Now we ran both fire and medical. All the damn time.

I took the nearest route to my post, stopping to grab some tacos along the way.

Giant root balls stood tall out of the ground, the trunks of their trees laying wherever they’d fallen. People working now filled the streets. Neighbors helping neighbors salvage what they could, hauling away debris. The sheer amount of clean-up needed was overwhelming.

There were two distinct types of people out. Those who lived in the destroyed area, moving slowly with shell-shocked expressions on their faces. And those who were there to help with the clean-up.

I eased my way to my post and met up with Thoren. I handed over a box of tacos because I knew he hadn’t eaten either. We’d spent most of the day together. He had to be as exhausted as I was.

“Thanks, man,” he said, tearing into the tacos like he hadn’t eaten in days.

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