Page 1 of Rhett

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Rhett

“All companies report. Structure fire on Main and Hunter.” We rush out to our rigs, climbing in once our gear is on. This is our first call for the day, and they say it’s a building.

We arrive on scene and see it’s an apartment building. Like my brothers, I know we’re all assessing the situation. There appears to be four floors.

Chief climbs out and meets us all in front of the building. “It’s cooking, boys. Make sure you check your tanks. Don’t push yourselves too hard, bail if it gets too close. We’ll clear one floor at a time and stay on each other’s hips.”

Marchy and I fist bump before pulling our masks on. Settling my helmet back on my head, I grab an axe and we head into the raging inferno. “Fire department, call out!” he shouts, moving down the hallway with me at his back, both of us check around corners and bang on apartment doors.

We move into our first one, and despite the thick smoke, no fire has made it yet so we’re easily able to clear the bottom floor apartments and Marchy calls it in. “First floor is clear. Hayes. How you guys doing on two?”

I listen as his response crackles through the radio. “We got vics in B and D. Atta and Fed are on three, move up to four and we’ll meet you up there.”

“10-4.” Marchy and I move down the hallway to the stairwell, and hustle our asses up the four floors, it’s a workout with over sixty pounds of gear on.

By the time we reach the floor, my adrenalin has me ready to run up four more. “Fire department, call out!” I shout over the sound of the roaring flames, hearing a sound, someone yelling.

“Call out!” Marchy screams, and we hear it again coming from the apartment at the end of the hall. We move together, but the fire is already licking the walls in this area, and we’re working against the clock.

When we reach the door, I turn around and kick the wood door, the cheap thing splintering as it swings inside. A young woman is on her knees only a few feet away, her shirt over her face as she coughs roughly.

“Let’s get you out of here, ma’am,” Marchy urges, but before we can move to help her, there is a loud creaking sound. We look above us to see the flames spreading over us, the smoke suddenly turning pitch-back, and I know we’re fucked.

“Hollywood down!” Marchy screams before he yanks me backward as the roof caves in, a massive beam coming down in front of the open doorway, blocking the young girl in.

“Help, please!” she yells, and I watch as flames and debris keep falling around us. “Mayday, mayday,” Hawk crackles through my radio. “We got propane tanks in an open apartment on the third floor. Evacuate the building, they’re cooking off.”

“Help, please! I can’t breathe,” comes weakly from the young woman, and Marchy and I share a look.

“Fuck,” I swear. “We’ve got this, brother.” We begin using our axes to chop at the beam, breaking it apart until finally it snaps in two.

I quickly scoop the woman up in my arms and we book it toward the exit. We fly down the stairs, the smoke thick, but that doesn’t stop us from running for the exit.

We finally make it outside, just as part of the building collapses. The paramedics rush toward us and take the unconscious woman from my arms. Marchy and I help with the efforts to put out the fire.

It takes several hours to get the fire out and check for hot spots. The damage is extensive, and we help keep the crowd back, I don’t even have a chance to think about the woman we rescued, and right now I’m running on pure adrenalin.

I roll over and punch my pillow. The beds at the station aren’t the most comfortable. They’re small, twin-sized, and I’m six-two. Of course I’ve gotten used to my feet hanging off the end. Lying on my back, I stare blindly at the ceiling. I’m in desperate need of some Z’s, we didn’t have a lot of calls today, but Cap had us clean the entire firehouse. That was including the rigs. I spent most of the afternoon stocking and swapping out medical supplies.

Even doing grunt work, there is nothing I’d rather be doing. I’ve known since I was ten years old I was going to become a firefighter. I know that sounds like bullshit, but it’s the God’s honest truth. After high school I went to college to be an EMT, and while I did that I volunteered at the station.

My parents have never really understood why I wanted to do something so dangerous, my mother’s words, but they still support me. Now, ten years later, I’m surrounded by the best guys I’ve ever known. Station 47 is my home away from home.

A wet nose touches my arm. Our house dog, Oscar, stands next to my bed. Rolling to my side, I scratch behind his ear. He puts a paw up on the mattress, and I automatically scoot over so he can hop up. He’s a Swiss Mountain dog and a big boy. After doing a circle, he groans as he lies down.

I swear, sometimes I think he just knows when I can’t sleep because feeling the weight of him on my legs, I finally start to get tired.

Oscar is gone when I wake up, grabbing my phone I see it’s only five, but there is no way I’m going back to sleep. I head into the bathroom and after taking a piss and washing my hands, I head down to the rec room. I hop on the treadmill and begin jogging.

Captain will be down any time now to start the coffee and breakfast. Then slowly the others will trickle down. That’s, of course, if a call doesn’t come in.

The silence surrounds me, except for the hum coming from the treadmill. I hop off a little bit later, wiping the sweat from my face. I’m in the middle of bicep curls when Cooper comes in with Oscar on his heels.

“What’s up, brother?” he greets me before taking the dog out back to go to the bathroom.

He and I have been best buds/brothers for as long as I can remember. I’d take a bullet for him, and I know he’d do the same. The guy hasn’t stopped smiling since he and Haley got together, which I am happy for because she’s great. He’s so good with Haley’s son, Roman. It’s not hard to love that kid. He’s a sweet, adorable boy.

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