Page 63 of Ashes of Us
I pulled a U-turn and headed east.
The smoke wasvisible three blocks out, with thick, black column punching into the darkening sky. I could see the glow of flames reflecting off the neighboring houses, hear sirens converging from multiple directions.
I pulled up behind Engine 47. The on-duty shift Captain, Elliot Reeves, was already establishing command, radio in hand, crew deploying hose lines. The house was fully involved, flames through every first-floor window, heavy smoke pouring from the second.
Reeves saw me and jogged over. “Captain. You're off duty."
"I know. What do we have?"
"Two-story residential. Fire started in the garage, spread fast. Homeowner got out, says there's someone on the second floor."He gestured toward a woman being treated by paramedics across the street. "Her son. Twenty-three years old. She thinks he's still up there."
I looked at the house. The stairs would be compromised. The first floor was an inferno, and the second floor… the smoke was too thick to see anything.
"We need to get in there," Reeves said.
I looked at the structure. Really looked at it.
The front wall was bowing outward. The windows on the second floor were intact but smoke was pouring from every gap. The garage was gone, swallowed by flame, with the fire already tearing into the main structure. As I watched, part of the roof sagged.
"No," I said. "We go defensive."
"Captain—"
"Look at that wall. And the roof. That's coming down in minutes." I turned to Reeves. "Pull your team back and protect the exposures. We're not sending anyone in there."
Reeves stared at me. "There's a victim inside."
"I know." My voice came out harder than I meant it to. "And I'm not trading lives for a body. We don't have time for a safe interior attack."
It was the right call. The only call.
It felt like absolute shit.
Reeves hesitated, then nodded. Started coordinating the defensive strategy, with hose lines targeting the neighboring houses, keeping the fire contained and allowing the structure to burn itself out.
I stood there staring at the house. Someone's son was in there. Just a kid, twenty-three years old. And we were going to let him burn because the math didn't work.
Battalion Chief Harlow pulled up, helmet low over his brow, that unflappable look he always wore. He took one glance at the scene, then nodded.
"Good call going defensive, Captain. That structure's minutes from collapse."
I was about to coordinate with Harlow when a paramedic ran up, panicked.
"Captain! We're missing someone. One of our EMTs came in off-duty, was first on scene. His partner says he heard someone screaming and went in before anyone could stop him."
Blood froze in my veins.
"He went in?" I looked at the house. "When?"
"Five, maybe six minutes ago. Before your units arrived. We thought he'd come back out but?—"
Six minutes. In that heat, that smoke. The stairs could have collapsed. The floor could have given way.
"We have to get him out," the paramedic said.
Harlow was already shaking his head. "Structure's too compromised. We'd be sending people in to die."
"Chief—"
