Page 109 of The Night Belongs To Fireman

Starting to feel a little faint, she took as deep a breath as she could manage. She wasn’t sure what was happening, why she was so dizzy, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. “I love you and I want to marry you. Don’t forget. Whatever happens, don’t forget.”

And then a black river was sweeping her away in its fast, swirling current.

After Rachel fell silent, the flashlight dropping to an unhelpful angle, Fred worked as quickly as he could. He could feel the shallow rise of her chest against his torso, which was enormously reassuring. He dug away as much of the debris as he could, then wormed his way back toward the opening, enough so he could drag her right leg out of its confinement. He had to tug hard, but finally she was free.

“I’m going to pull you out now,” he whispered. “Hang on, my sweet girl.”

He arranged her arms over her head, took hold of her wrists, and began working his way backward past the inflated, Teflon-coated air bags, pulling her along, slowly but surely. Behind him, at the entrance of this narrow, makeshift tunnel, the rest of the crew stood waiting to grab his feet and pull him free. Before him, gripped tightly in his hands, he held his future. Nothing, not the sprays of dust that kept cascading onto him, not the aftershock that sent his heart into his mouth, not the scrape of exposed nails against his forearms, would stop him from bringing Rachel out safely. Four more feet … three more feet … two more feet … Sweat dripped down his neck from pulling both himself and Rachel. His muscles screamed for relief. His vision wavered, going sparkly around the edges.

Then strong hands were gripping his ankles. He was being gently but firmly pulled along the narrow passage. Hold on to Rachel, he told himself. That’s all you have to do. Hold on. They’ll do the rest. You can trust them with your life … with her life … our life …

The fresh open air greeted him like a blast from a water hose. Noise surrounded him. People yelling, a medevac chopper coming in for a landing, Greta’s excited barking.

“Hey!” A shout as the dog broke free. A cold nose nuzzled him, then a warm, eager tongue swiped his cheek, over and over again.

“Greta, girl,” he said, with an attempt at a laugh that came out more as a bleat. “I’m okay. I’m okay.” Satisfied, Greta moved on to Rachel, just emerging from the rubble. She draped her warm, wiggly body across her beloved owner’s chest. Fred let go of Rachel’s hands and tried to pull himself onto his knees, only to groan from the pain.

“Someone grab the dog,” he called. Rachel needed medical assessment before any more doggie love.

“You reopened your head wound,” came the rough voice of Mulligan. He was kneeling next to Fred, doing a quick check of his injuries. “It’s always something with you and that girl.”

“Mulligan? What are you doing here?” He stared, bewildered, at the rugged, broken-nose face of the newest member of Station 1. Behind Mulligan, he could see the USAR crew extracting the air bags, and two San Gabriel police officers.

“Vader sent me. Every firefighter in town called in so we have hands to spare. So you got mine, baby. The USAR crew has to take off, but I’m staying.”

The paramedic at Rachel’s side gave a thumbs-up. “Your girl’s pulse is thready but she’s okay, Freddie.”

Rachel made a soft sound. Fred, forgetting the pain in his knees, scrambled to her side, followed by Mulligan.

“Sweetie? Did you say something? Are you awake?”

“Fi …” She mumbled.

Fred, completely mystified, looked at Mulligan. “Can you understand what she’s saying?”

“I heard an F and an S. French fries? Are you hungry, Kessler? Did you work up an appetite under all that rubble?”

Rachel pushed the EMT’s hand from her throat and sat up. “I said,” she said, coughing. “I’m not just his girl. I’m his fiancée.” Fred put his arm around her, supporting her while she hacked up more dust.

“Okay then. Fiancée. Good work, Freddie-boy.” Mulligan slapped him on the back, making him cough too. “You work fast, bro. Not everyone crawls into a collapsed building and comes out engaged. No wonder they call you the Bachelor Hero.”

“Shut up, Mulligan.” Fred kept his focus on Rachel, tenderly smoothing the hair from her face, brushing mortar crumbs from her cheeks. In the harsh light of the spotlight the crew had set up, her eyes glimmered with a glorious, mysterious violet sheen.

“Or what? You’ll beat my ass?” One look from Fred had Mulligan backing down. “Right. You will. You can. But you won’t, since I just saved your ass, and I think that earns me a spot in the wedding party and …”

But Fred didn’t hear the rest, because Rachel had taken his face between her hands and was kissing him so deep and hard, he forgot where he was. He could have been back under the rubble, in Rachel’s elevator, or in a bumper car, for all he knew. The only thing that mattered was he was with Rachel, she was alive, and they could hold each other and love each other until the sun rose and set and rose again.

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