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“This is all pretty self-explanatory,” I say. “Bunks are this way. Pick one that isn’t taken. Stay out of the officer quarters.” I motion toward the rooms, like the one where I get to sleep, lined up against the wall. It pays to have seniority. My bed is in a room where I can close the door and block out the snores coming from the other guys. It’s definitely a perk.

I walk them through the kitchen and living quarters where we hang out on shift when we’re not sleeping or on a call.

“Guys, this is Sawyer Dawson and Finn Roberts.” I point at each of the new recruits as I say their name. “Our new Station Twelve probies.”

A round of waves and half-hearted greetings come from the guys. Truth is, our probationary candidates aren’t truly accepted into our family until they’ve passed their year of probation. And that’s what we are here at Station Twelve—a family. Because unfortunately, many of the newbies don’t last. Little boys all over the world dream of growing up to be a firefighter but the reality of the job isn’t always what they expected. It’s not a career for the faint of heart, and it’s hard work. It can break a man, easily, and it often does. Especially here in Chicago where we see a lot of action.

I lead Dawson and Roberts through the showers, laundry, storage, and show them where their lockers are. “That’s the gist of the house, right. But you’re waiting for the exciting part?” I grin.

“Yes,” Dawson agrees with a goofy smile.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

The two guys follow me out to the garage where our truck waits, and even now, twelve years into this career—the sight of it makes my heart race with pride.

“That’s truck twelve guys, our Benny. Isn’t she a thing of beauty?”

“Why do you call her Benny?” Roberts asks.

Walking over to the truck, I touch our emblem. “Well, our emblem is a bear, and the name Benny means—blessed, strong, brave bear—which of course she is. The captain from years ago, before my time, read it in a baby name book when he and his wife were expecting and named the truck, and it stuck. Or so the story goes. You’ll find that firefighters love their traditions.”

Jamison Stokes jogs into the garage. “Hey, Boss.”

“What’s up Stokes?”

“I have to help my mom. She’s getting out of the hospital from her emergency surgery today. Captain cleared my furlough for the rest of the week. Fly Guy is on, so you won’t be short on the truck.”

“Perfect. Thanks for letting me know and send your mom our love.”

“Will do, Boss.” He nods and turns to leave.

“Who’s Fly Guy?” Roberts asks.

“Bennett Abrams. A couple of our guys go by their last names but most of us have nicknames. Boss isn’t because I’m lieutenant. I’ve been called that since I was eighteen. It’s a shortened version of my last name.”

“Nice, Boss. It’s fitting.” Dawson grins.

I furrow my brow. “You, however, probie will call me Lieutenant until you make it. Show some respect.”

Dawson shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. It won’t happen again.”

I nod. “Let’s continue.” I motion toward the table where our squad members are playing cards. “Those are the squad members. They go on most calls with us but are used more for rescues, and such. They have additional training in less common situations but high intensity scenarios like bomb threats or water rescues.”

“They’re the elite,” Roberts says, almost in awe.

“They think so,” I mutter under my breath. “But honestly, the people we save don’t care if we’re squad or truck. They’re just grateful to have their life saved.” I continue across the garage, and past squad’s fire engine to the ambulance where our two paramedics are taking inventory. “We’re lucky at twelve to have paramedics right here with us to go out on calls. And these two ladies are the best there are. This is Hattie Davis and Kora Lee.”

“Davis and Lee,” I address the paramedics. “These two are our new probies, Sawyer Dawson and Finn Roberts,” I introduce each new candidate.

“Hey, nice to meet you. Welcome.” Davis extends her hand and shakes each of their hands.

“Yes, welcome.” Lee follows suit.

I start toward the room where we keep our fire gear, and I can hear the new guys whispering about the hot paramedics behind me.

“It’d be wise to knock that off now,” I say. “Show everyone in this house respect if you hope to make it here.”

“Yes, Lieutenant,” they answer in unison.

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