Page 19 of Hot Knot Summer
Kai bursts into the bay, followed by the two volunteers who were sleeping in the bunkroom. “Police are en route, but they’re coming from the south side. Roads are starting to flood in places.”
I nod sharply. “Engine one, Rescue one,” I bark. “Kai, Dana, Miguel, you’re with me on engine. River, take Rescue with Levi and Terry. We roll in sixty seconds.”
The rain is coming down in sheets as we tear out of the station, lights flashing and sirens wailing.
“Dispatch, this is Chief Wood,” I radio in as we speed through the deserted streets. “En route to Pinecrest Lane. What’s the situation?”
“Chief, we have multiple 911 calls reporting a house fire,” the dispatcher responds, her voice steady despite the urgency. “Callers indicate the vacation rental is occupied. Unknown number inside. Police are ten minutes out.”
“Copy that.” I glance in the rearview at my team, all grim determination now. “Engine one ETA four minutes. Rescue right behind us.”
The wipers struggle against the torrent, and I grip the wheel tighter as we navigate the winding road leading up to the eastern slope. The higher we climb,the stronger the glow becomes, a malevolent orange beacon cutting through the night. Beside me, Kai checks his breathing apparatus one last time, his usually jovial face set in hard lines.
As we round the final bend onto Pinecrest, the full scene comes into view, and my breath catches in my throat. A large A-frame cabin is half engulfed in flames that the downpour is doing little to douse, fire licking up the wooden siding and punching through the roof in multiple places.
“Jesus Christ,” Miguel breathes from behind me.
The radio crackles with River’s voice from the rescue truck behind us.
I pull to a stop at a safe distance and throw the engine into park. “Establish water supply. Primary search is priority one. River, circle around back when you arrive. Levi, I want a structural assessment before we commit to an interior attack.”
We hit the ground running, rain pelting us as we don our masks and gear up. The storm has turned the ground to mud, making every movement more difficult, but we move with the efficiency of a team that’s faced hell together before.
“Ready?” I ask, adjusting my mask as the rest of the team forms up.
Curt nods, and I feel the weight of leadership settle onto my shoulders. This is what I was made for, this moment, this purpose. Everything else, houses full of ghosts, plane rides with intoxicating Omegas, theweight of the past, it all burns away in the face of the flames.
“Let’s move,” I order. With Kai and Miguel flanking me, we charge toward the inferno, ready to tear through fire and wood and whatever else stands between us and anyone trapped inside.
Then I hear it, a scream piercing through the roar of flames and pounding rain. Desperate. Terrified. Coming from somewhere inside the burning house.
“Someone’s in there,” Miguel shouts.
The wind shifts, and for just a moment, the flames part enough to see a figure in an upstairs window.
A woman. Trapped.
4
EMMA
My eyes snap open to darkness thick with gray haze. For one disorienting moment, I think I’m still dreaming, until the acrid burn hits my lungs, and I erupt into violent coughing. It rips through my chest, each spasm painful and tight. I bolt upright, heart hammering against my ribs as adrenaline floods my system.
Fire. The cabin is on fire. Fuck!
The thought crashes through me with brutal clarity. The air tastes wrong—toxic, metallic, deadly. My eyes water instantly, stinging tears tracking down my cheeks. Through the blur, I make out wisps of smoke slithering under the bedroom door like searching fingers.
“Shit,” I whisper, the word catching in my throat. I cough again, doubling over as my body tries desperately to expel the poison I’m breathing.
Survival instinct kicks in. I fumble for my phone onthe nightstand, knocking it to the floor in my panic. When I scurry out of bed onto hands and knees to retrieve it, the screen shows 1:47 a.m. and barely any signal—one bar flickering in and out. I try to call 911, anyway, my trembling fingers slipping on the screen, but the call fails to connect. The sound that escapes me is half-sob, half-cough.
Lightning from outside flashes, briefly illuminating the smoke-filled room in stark white before plunging it back into shadow.
Shit… I need to get out.
Coughing, I push up from the floor and stumble toward the bedroom window. I grab the latch and yank. Nothing. I wrench harder, both hands now, but it won’t budge. Jammed.
Panic claws up my throat, but I bite it down.
