Off Chance (2 page)

“She’s gone, kid. No one made it out.”

The minute his words penetrate my brain, my body goes still. I can feel his hold start to marginally relax but he doesn’t let go just yet.

“Gone?” I whisper.

“Yes. The house was fully involved by the time we got here. There was no way to get anyone out.”

The fireman’s arms fall away from my body and he takes a small step back. His body is still tense though and he’s just waiting for me to spring into action again.

My eyes flick to the inferno and then back to him. “Are you sure?”

The pleading tone in my voice causes him to wince but he nods his head.

My knees finally give out, and I sag to the ground. Bowing my head, I clutch desperately at the grass in Marney’s front yard.

No, no, no, no, no.

This isn’t happening.

Marney isn’t in there. There’s no way she died that way. The thought of Marney’s burning body causes bile to rise up in my throat.

I look up to the fireman, who is still standing there. The raging fire behind him causes his body to be nothing more than a dark silhouette... a man without a face.

“Are you okay, kid?”

Shaking my head, I whisper, “I can’t bear to think of the pain she was in...”

The faceless man kneels down in front of me and lays a hand on my shoulder. He squeezes it gently. “She was probably long gone from smoke inhalation before the fire reached her. Okay? She probably didn’t feel a thing.”

I know his words are meant to comfort me but the balmy effect falls flat. My eyes fill with tears and I look back down to the ground.

There’s no reason she should have died that way.

The firemen should have tried to push their way in.

They should have sent five trucks instead of four.

They should have gotten here faster.

I should have gotten here faster.

I should have arranged for an earlier time to meet. If I had, Marney would have been out of the house, safe in my arms.

I could have saved her and I didn’t.

The hard reality of my failure sets in, and the tears start spilling from my eyes. It’s the first time I’ve cried since I was a little kid. I let them flow, not giving a shit what the fireman thinks, or what anyone thinks for that matter. I watch as my tears fall from my face and hit the green blades of spring grass before me.

“Flynn!”

I turn and see my mom and dad running for me. The fireman stands up and walks away, and then I’m in my parents’ arms.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” my mom murmurs as she strokes the tears from my face. Fresh ones replace them and I can see through the wavering haze that my mom is crying, too.

My dad’s arms engulf both of us and I rest my chin on my mom’s head.

I gaze over my dad’s shoulder and watch my Marney burn away.

“Goddamn it, Caldwell. Get your ass in my office. Now!”

I wince over hearing the Battalion Chief calling from the back of the station house. His voice is booming, echoing from deep inside that barrel chest of his. Studying the cards in my hand... pair of deuces, Ace high... it’s best I fold anyway.

Tossing the cards facedown on the table, I stand up. “I’m out.”

My buddies, my co-workers, my compatriots... they all keep their eyes pinned to their cards so they don’t have to offer me a sympathetic look. They’ve heard me called into the Chief’s office on more than one occasion and I know they feel for me.

But they’re also probably a little glad I’m getting ready to get my ass chewed, because my dumbass moves affect them as well.

Walking out of the kitchen, I turn down the back hall, which houses our bunks. The Chief’s office is at the very end. As I walk past the open doorway to the sleeping quarters, I hear, “When in the hell are you going to learn, Flynn?”

The room is dark but I don’t need to see inside to recognize the voice of my best friend, Tim Davis.

Taking a step back, I lean up against the doorframe and reach my hand inside to flick on the light. Tim is lying on his bed, his hands clasped behind his head. His dark brown eyes look at me with a mixture of affection and annoyance.

I decide to play stupid, just to ramp up his annoyance. “Learn what?”

Tim rises up from the bed, swinging his legs to the side. Resting his elbows on his knees, he clasps his hands and sighs deep before turning his gaze back on me. “You know what, but I’ll lay it out for you... when are you going to stop taking stupid risks?”

“Define stupid?” I ask, even though I know the answer. I just don’t feel like hearing this shit from Tim, because I’m getting ready to hear an earful from the Chief.

Tim looks back down to his hands and I hear him chuckle, but it’s not a sound filled with mirth. Instead, it sounds hard and bitter. When he looks back up at me, there is no smile on his face and his eyes hold just a bit of disgust.

I expect him to lay into me, but his voice is surprisingly soft. It stands at complete odds with his muscular and tattooed frame. “You know what I’m talking about so I won’t bother stating the obvious. But the next time you put yourself in unnecessary danger, just remember our motto...
two go in, two come out
. You enter harm’s way, you know one of us are coming in behind you. So yeah, I get that you don’t care if you get injured or killed in a rescue... but you know you’re risking our lives, too. You want that on your conscience if one of us gets killed?”

Guilt flashes like a nuclear explosion through my body. “I wouldn’t put you or any of the team in danger—”

Tim cuts me off. “Save it. You already have, and on more than one occasion.”

His voice is hard, which is foreign to me. Tim is about as big of a teddy bear as you can find. He has an easygoing nature, which is why we bonded so well.

“I’m sorry,” is all I get out before I hear the Chief calling me again.

“Caldwell! Where the fuck are you?”

Taking a deep breath, I stare at Tim a moment longer and then turn my back on him. I can’t stand that I’ve disappointed him. I could give a shit that the Chief is mad, but Tim? He’s like a brother to me and I don’t like letting him down. He needs to be able to trust me in any given situation, and to know that I’ve probably breached it has sent bitter acid swimming through my stomach.

Steeling my resolve as I head to the Chief’s office, I start to calculate the speech which will hopefully get me out of hot water. Unfortunately, nothing good is coming to mind. Fact is, I fucked up and didn’t follow protocol. Yesterday when we responded to a structure fire, I didn’t wait for the Captain to do a size-up. When I jumped off the truck, I barely had my Nomex hood and helmet on before I was running into the building. Tim was on my heels, cursing at me.

I couldn’t help it though. We were told there were occupants in the building—which there were—and I saw a safe entry point. Ultimately, I wasn’t even in any danger, but I’m still going to get my ass chewed because I didn’t wait the extra two minutes for the Captain to do the size-up.

Just as I reach the Chief’s office, but before I can knock, the speakers crackle and roar to life. A series of audible tones chime through, followed by a buzzer. The pager on my hip goes off but I don’t bother looking at it because a voice comes over the speaker. “Engine 209, Engine 113, Squad 15, Ladder 102, Ladder 94, Rescue 12, Battalion Chief 1, Air truck 15. Major working fire—532 Pennsylvania Avenue. Residential. Multi-family house, duplex. Be advised Dispatch has received multiple calls.”

I turn from the Chief’s door and head toward my bunk for my turnout gear. Easily slipping into my boots, I pull my trousers up, looping my arms through the suspenders. I slide my Nomex hood on and shrug into my coat, lacing my thumbs through the wrist gauntlets. After I have my coat zipped and velcroed tight, I push the hood back off my face so it hangs loosely around my neck. Grabbing my black helmet, the color of which signifies I’m a member of an engine company for the FDNY, I head toward the truck.

Engine 209 is on the move.

We are the first to arrive at the duplex but Ladder 94 pulls in seconds behind us. The Captain gets out to start his size-up, and I quickly don my self-contained breathing apparatus and face piece, pulling my hood over the top. I put my helmet on and pull the chin strap tight, my movements quick and efficient.

I note the housing unit on the right seems to be fully involved and within minutes, our ladder is deployed and spraying water from above. Members of the other engine are entering the front door. I can’t see any flames or smoke from the other side at this point, which is a good sign.

As I walk closer, I faintly hear noise coming from the left side of the unit. Since a narrow driveway runs along its side, I walk that way to investigate. The driveway is a luxury here in Brooklyn and I envy the owners for just a second that they don’t have to worry about parking.

As I near the windows at the back of the house, I hear the frantic barking of a dog. A big dog by the sound of it and it sounds panicked. I can tell immediately it’s coming from inside the house and I easily locate the window where the barking is the loudest. The window ledge sits pretty high, just at my chest as I put my face up against the glass to look in. I can’t see shit because the cheap, plastic blinds are partially closed but the dog is definitely in there. I have no clue if a human is inside, so I may only be going in to save a dog, but yup... I’m going in.

And nope... doesn’t matter that my Cap hasn’t given the okay.

Taking my ax, I break the window and breathe a sigh of relief that no smoke pours out. Making sure that all the shards of glass are clear of the window frame, I reach in and get a good grip on the blinds, pulling hard so they rip from the wall.

“Fuck, Flynn... can’t you wait two seconds?”

I knew Tim wouldn’t be too far behind but he’s not mad at me for entering so quickly. It’s pretty clear that this side of the house isn’t burning yet. I hear Tim speaking into his radio, letting the Captain know we’re making entry. “Cap... we hear a dog and possible subjects inside. Entering window to make a rescue.”

I think I hear the Cap curse but then he gives the go ahead. Putting my hands on the ledge, I give myself a mental pat on the back that I’m able to pull myself up and haul myself inside. Working out at the gym five days a week pays off. I make a less-than-graceful fall onto the floor and immediately jump up to take note of my surroundings.

I’m in a bedroom and the door is closed. Smoke is seeping in under the bottom and the air already has a hazy quality to it.

Lying on the bed is a huge dog... probably at least a hundred pounds. Although I only look at him briefly, it’s enough to know that he’s no ordinary mutt. His coat is jet black, long and glossy. His chest and paws are snowy white with a blaze of the same color down the middle of his face. Russet-colored fur adorns his legs along with two brown stripes right where his eyebrows sit. It makes his face very expressive, and he’s looking at me now as if to say,
It’s about damn time.

I say it’s a “he” because his head is boxy and his chest is huge, so I’m guessing he’s sporting a pair of big, furry balls underneath all that hair. The dog looks at me expectantly and lets out another series of panicked barks, which are still deep and booming.