Page 2 of The Smart Killer
“Did everyone evacuate?” Hunter asked.
“I don’t think so. I tried getting to them but couldn’t get in.”
“How many?” Jake asked.
“Four,” the neighbor replied. “They should have had plenty of time to get out. These homes are designed with safety in mind.”
Jake noticed that steel shutters covered the upstairs windows but not the lower ones, an odd sight. As his team frantically worked spraying ropes of water into the blaze, he continued gathering information.
“Does this home have the same layout as yours?”
The neighbor nodded. “Bedrooms are on first and second floor.”
“I’ll get the aerial up,” Joseph Miller said, returning to the truck.
“Anything we should know?” Jake asked the neighbour.
“They’re installed with polycarbonate windows. It’s a security feature,” the neighbor said.
“Yeah, and fire-resistant,” Jake said, shaking his head. It could be a nightmare to bypass. Polycarbonate, while not hard, absorbed impacts two hundred times better than any glass or acrylic and would often not break even if a sledgehammer was used.
As he surveyed the chaos before him, Captain Jake Hudson couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that this was no ordinary fire.
“Wilson, Hunter, you, come with me around back,” he shouted. “Miller, vent that upper floor.” There were various ways to tackle a fire, depending on if the source of the fire was insidethe first or second story, attic, or basement. They would often ventilate the upper floor to allow the heat and smoke to escape so it was easier to enter a home, locate the source of the fire, and retrieve occupants. It was all about controlling the airflow to reduce backdraft explosions and improve visibility once inside.
Working together as a team, firefighters began tackling the flames from the front and sprayed the neighbors’ homes to avoid the fire spreading while Jake led the others around back, searching for the most accessible way in. Usually, they could smash a window or break through a door, but the home was sealed tight.
“This is going to be a bitch to break,” he said, wielding a Halligan bar like a battle axe. Jake made his way up to the rear and struck the polycarbonate multiple times — nothing happened. He got on the radio.
“Miller, you got that ground ladder up?”
“Yes, captain.”
“Any luck venting?”
“The damn window won’t break.”
“Go vertical,” he said. “Come on, you son-of-a-bitch!” Jake said, focusing his attention on the framing, hoping he might dislodge it. Multiple strikes did nothing. It was a pain but nothing that they couldn’t overcome. They’d had to go through steel at times. They always gained entry, whether that was through a hole in the wall or by a door. Yet these doors looked anything but ordinary. “Wilson. Use the K12 saw.”
He stepped back as Wilson moved in with the rotary saw and began cutting around the window frame to remove the entire window and leave the glazing intact. Sparks flew in every direction.
“Captain!” Miller cried over the radio. “I vented the roof.”
Wilson stepped back. “Go!”
Jake struck the fragile piece, and the frame collapsed inward, creating an opening for them to enter. They moved past flaming walls; Jake kept Hunter behind him as they began their preliminary search. It was impossible to get deep inside. Thick black smoke clogged his vision, his breathing was heavy and labored as they forged ahead into the inferno.
“Damn it!” Jake said.
They couldn’t reach the staircase; the fire had chewed through it, leaving a gaping hole and tongues of red and orange licking the walls. “Back up. Back up!” he cried to Hunter and Wilson as he scanned the rooms. “Miller, any sign of the four occupants?” Jake asked over the radio.
There was a long pause, and then the answer came.
“Yeah, cap. They’re down. They’re all down!”
Jake raised a forearm as fire surged behind them, forcing them out of a doorway to devour the remaining building.
The flames that devoured the modern home seemed to hold a sinister, inexplicable power, and the once peaceful community of Brookstone was now thrust into a nightmarish ordeal that defied comprehension.
