Page 185 of Controlled Burn
A crack.
A roar.
The roof gave way, folding in on itself.
The world went black.
Talia
She hit the ground running, barking orders even as panic clawed at her ribs.
“Bri, search with me. Brent, ladder the Bravo side—Reyes, take command!”
She heard her own voice—clear, steady, like it wasn’t hers.
They went in low. Visibility zero. Smoke boiled like tar. Her mask regulator clicked and hissed with every breath, drowning even the shriek of the fire. Sweat streamed under the seal, burning her eyes.
Her vibe alert vibrated—half air. Move faster.
The TIC glowed faintly—orange blur in the corner bedroom.
“There!” Bri’s voice crackled, rookie fear threading through it.
A boy—eight, maybe nine—curled behind a bed, sobbing.
She dropped her tool, scooped him up, felt his small body tremble against her turnout coat. “Got him,” she barked into the radio. “Request ladder assist, Side Bravo!”
Brent’s silhouette appeared at a shattered window, outlined in fire. She passed the boy through the smoke, Bri boosting from behind.
“Go!” she ordered. “Get him outside!”
She spun, ready for secondary search—
Then the hallway behind her disappeared. A wall of heat. The floor bucked under her boots, shaking her bones.
The radio shrieked:
“Mayday, Mayday—Captain Dean Maddox, Ladder 12—collapse, rear quadrant—trapped!”
Her lungs stopped working.
Please, not him. Not here. Not like this.
Talia
She was already moving—faster than thought, faster than training.
She was twelve again, her dad’s voice fading on the scanner.The world is tilting.
No. Not again. Not now.
She shoved past Brent, past Reyes, ignoring their shouts. The smoke thickened, turned the air into sludge. Her knees hit the floor, gloves scraping slick tile as she crawled. Her regulator roared like a jet engine.
“Dean!” she screamed, sweeping her light through the rubble.
There—a flash of yellow. A helmet.
She clawed forward. He was pinned under a crossbeam, one arm limp, mask shattered on the floor beside him. His chest barely moved.
