Page 1 of Scorched

Chapter 1

Sweat dripped down Fire Lieutenant Declan Briggs’s forehead to sting his eyes as he broke through the cloud of smoke and stepped outside. Walking to the firetruck, he set the hose down before lifting his helmet and taking off his mask. He tucked both under his arm as he inhaled a breath of smoke-scented air and swiped at the sweat on his face. A quick glance at his partner, Sam Reeves, showed him doffing his own gear.

“Hell of a fire, Lou.” Declan’s newest firefighter, Jameson Gehring, walked up, carrying water bottles.

Declan took the bottle held out to him and downed half of it before answering. “Yeah. It’s a hot one, that’s for sure. But we’re winning now.”

“About time. Need me to tag in?”

“No.” Declan shook his head. “Keep doing what you’re doing. This one is a bit wild for you yet.” Jameson was a good kid, but he was very young and very green. Declan wasn’t about to send him into a fire like this without more training. “Can you get me a new oxygen tank? Something is wrong with this one.” The one he’d been using should have lasted twice as long, but a few minutes ago, he’d glanced down to see the oxygen level in the red. He figured it had a bad seal or valve.

With a nod, Jameson hurried to the other side of the truck to grab another tank. Declan unhooked his old one while he waited, then checked in with the other two units on scene, helping to tackle the house fire and keep it from spreading to the neighboring homes. They were making progress on the blaze, but it was slow going. The house was fully engulfed when they arrived. It had taken one look for Declan to call in additional units.

Jameson returned with a fresh tank. Declan hooked it up, testing it before nodding to Sam. “I’m good. Let’s get back in there.”

Sam drew his mask down. “Let’s get it.”

“Make sure that tank doesn’t get put with the others,” Declan instructed Jameson. “It needs to be fixed.”

“You got it.”

Declan settled his gear into place and followed Sam back to the house. They picked up their hose and mounted the porch steps. As Sam crossed the threshold, the air around them changed. The fire sucked away from them, and Declan’s eyes went wide as he realized what was happening. Before he could utter a word of warning, an explosion of heat and flames sent him flying backward through the air as the fire flashed, growing exponentially in the blink of an eye.

Pain jolted through his hip and back as he hit the ground. The air left his lungs, and he rolled to his side, gasping as he tried to draw a breath. When his lungs finally worked again, pain lanced his ribs. Groaning, he rested his head on the wet grass. His ears rang, the noises around him fading as the ringing took over.

“Lou! Lieutenant! Are you okay?”

Declan cradled his ribs, rolling to look up at Gehring, whose worried face loomed over him.

“Sir, are you okay?”

“I think so.” He tried to sit up but fire raced across his ribcage. Moaning, he clutched his side and maneuvered himself to a sitting position. “Where’s Sam?”

Gehring pointed ahead of them to the left. Declan squinted, trying to bring his vision into focus, and saw Sam sprawled over the grass, not moving.

“Shit.” Still clumsy from the blast, Declan got to his knees. Jameson helped him stand, and he stumbled over to Sam. Two paramedics arrived and kneeled over him to assess his injuries.

“Sam!”

One of the paramedics looked up. “Lieutenant, you shouldn’t be moving around.” She glanced around, presumably for another medic to take care of him.

Declan ignored her and dropped to his knees. “Sam, can you hear me?”

“He’s out cold,” the second paramedic said. “His pupils are equal and reactive, but a little sluggish.” He wrapped a blood pressure cuff around Sam’s arm. A third medic came up and squatted next to Declan.

“Lieutenant, can I take a look at you?”

Declan turned to the young man at his shoulder, Denton Truesdale. Denton’s voice—and everyone else’s around him—sounded as though he were shouting through a tunnel.

“You can’t do anything for Sam right now. Kara and Mike have things under control. Let me assess you. The blast threw you both quite a distance.”

Declan nodded reluctantly, wincing as he pushed to his feet, wobbling a bit. Denton and Jameson grabbed his arms to steady him.

“I’m fine.” He shook off their grip and headed for the ambulances. Denton hurried ahead and opened the back of the one on the right. On legs shakier than Declan wanted to admit, he climbed inside and sat on the stretcher. He looked at Gehring, who stood outside, watching. “Go find Walters. Tell him he’s in charge and find out where he wants you. If he has to send you into the house, you do everything your partner says, understand?”

Jameson nodded. “Yes, sir.” He ran off to find Sergeant Walters, who headed up Ladder Three.

Feeling the blast now, Declan let his head fall back against the stretcher and closed his eyes. Everything hurt.

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