Page 48 of Embers in Autumn
Out of the corner of my eye, Mike’s stream punched throughshattered glass. Flames recoiled for a breath, then surged again, brighter, angrier. He cursed over the radio. “Started from some junkies, I’ll bet anything. They’ve been squatting around here for months.”
I gritted my teeth. That checked. A couple of kids with a lighter and a mattress, and now half the district was at risk.
Then I saw it.
Beyond the collapsing wall, just two lots down, a second warehouse squatted in the dark. The rain-slicked sign over the bay doors readNolan & Sons Paint Supply. I froze, stomach dropping.
“Dispatch,” I snapped into my radio, forcing my voice calm even as adrenaline spiked. “Requesting an additional truck, repeat, additional truck. We’ve got an exposure hazard. South side of the fire sits thirty yards from Nolan & Sons Paint. That’s a paint storage facility.”
For a heartbeat, all I heard was the rush of my own breath inside the mask. Then static crackled back, the dispatcher’s voice tight.“Copy, additional truck en route. ETA twelve minutes.”
Twelve minutes. My gut clenched.
If this fire spread, if even one ember carried over—paint fumes, solvents, thinners—this wouldn’t just be a warehouse blaze. It would be an explosion, the kind that could take out a city block.
“Move, move, move!” I shouted, yanking Carter with me. “Shift everything south! I want a goddamn wall of water between this and the paint shop. Do not let those embers land!”
The team pivoted, hoses swinging, water slamming against the night in desperate arcs. The fire crackled louder, greedy, sparks carried high on the wind, some drifting dangerously close toward that neighboring building. My throat was dry despite the steam, my pulse thundered in my ears.
Every ounce of training, every call before this, funneled intoone thought, sharp and simple.
We had to stop it here.
Because if we didn’t, half the town was going to light up before dawn.
The fire raged harder with every breath, feeding on old wood and broken furniture inside the warehouse. My crew braced against the hoses, streams hammering into the flames, but the beast only screamed louder, sparks flaring high and catching in the wind. Every one of those sparks was a threat, a fuse waiting to light.
“Hold that line!” I shouted, pushing forward into the spray, heat blasting through the layers of my gear. Sweat pooled under the mask, but I kept my grip tight, forcing the nozzle higher. “Push it back from the south wall!”
Mike was a few yards over, his silhouette hunched, boots planted wide as he aimed water straight through a shattered window. He was relentless, cursing at the fire like it could hear him. Alvarez and Carter flanked him, both of them heaving on the line, their stream cutting across his. The three arcs of water hissed and steamed, turning the fire’s roar into a shriek.
For a moment, it almost looked like we were winning.
Then I heard the groan.
Low at first, a shudder deep in the frame of the building, followed by a crack that made every hair on my body stand up. My eyes shot up in time to see the roofline sag, flames curling greedily along the edge.
“Mike!” I bellowed. “Get back, now!”
He didn’t hear me—or maybe he did but thought he could hold his ground a second longer. The beam gave with a sickening snap, and in an instant, part of the roof collapsed, dragging half the south wall down with it. Fire and debris rained outward in a shower of sparks and metal.
Mike went down hard, the hose whipping out of his hands.
Adrenaline surged white-hot through me. I dropped my own line and lunged into the chaos. The heat seared, sparks pelting off my helmet as I grabbed his harness and hauled with everything I had.
“Got you,” I grunted, dragging him clear of the falling wreckage. My lungs burned, my muscles screaming, but I didn’t let go until we were both outside the danger zone, other hands pulling us back.
Mike coughed, mask askew, his eyes wide and glassy through the soot. “Son of a bitch,” he rasped, voice raw. “That thing nearly flattened me.”
“You’re fine,” I snapped, though my heart was still jackhammering in my chest. “Stay down. Let Alvarez check you.”
Even as I barked the order, fresh sirens cut through the night. Relief flooded me when another engine screeched up, lights splashing red and white across the smoke. The backup crew spilled out, hoses unfurling in practiced waves. Their streams hit hard and fast, slamming into the flames before more sparks could take flight toward the paint warehouse.
The tide shifted. Water pounded against fire, relentless, until the beast shrieked louder but lost its edge. Steam rolled thick and heavy, obscuring everything, but the flames didn’t climb higher again. Not this time.
I stood, chest heaving, one hand still braced on Mike’s shoulder.
We’d stopped it. Barely.
