Page 6 of After the End
“Chief, Rory and I are going in after the dog,” he said over the radio.
“Copy.” The fire chief’s voice was resigned. He knew Ian and Rory too well to argue. “Make it quick, and watch for danger signs. If it looks bad, get out immediately, dog or no dog. Don’t be a martyr, either of you.”
“Copy. Ready?” he asked Rory. Her eyes were wide behind her SCBA mask, but she nodded. “Then let’s go.”
Grabbing the end of one of the unused hoses, Ian jogged for the front door, Rory next to him. Around them, there was a flurry of activity, lights flashing and motors rumbling, as other firefighters attached hoses between the engines and the tender trucks, so they could pump water onto the fire.
“No kicking down the door today,” Rory said dryly, with barely a shake in her voice. The owner had left it open when he’d escaped, and thick, dark-gray smoke poured from the entrance.
“Too bad. Oh well, there’s always tomorrow,” Ian teased, hiding his own concern. Rory had just received her basic firefighter certification, and this would be her first time inside a structure fire. He trusted her, knew she’d excelled during training, but it was still nerve-racking to think about her entering the flaming cabin.
He took lead, stepping inside the smoke-filled building, and immediately things went dark. The light from his headlamp was swallowed by smoke, barely penetrating three feet into the murk. He was grateful for his SCBA equipment. Without it, the smoke would kill his eyesight and his breathing and, in fairly short order, him. The hose would help, too, especially when they were trying to find their way out again.
“Here, dog!” he yelled over the roar, making his careful way through the dark room. “Come here, Casey!”
“My ears,” Rory muttered over her mask’s built-in radio.
Ian gave her an apologetic glance. His shout had probably blown out her eardrums. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “Don’t mind me. You should call to him.”
He did, although more quietly. The red glow of fire grew brighter as they walked, the heat increasing until it felt like it was roasting his skin, even with his protective gear. As they moved through the main room of the cabin, dodging a smoldering couch and a blackened end table, the leaping, orange flames became distinct.
The kitchen was completely engulfed, with fire consuming the cupboards and walls and even lapping at the appliances. The smoke billowed up to roll across the ceiling like storm clouds. There was an opening in the wall, a doorway framed by flames, and Ian hoped that this was the bedroom. As intensely as the kitchen was burning, it would soon spread to the rest of the structure, turning the cabin into a death trap.
“Still with me, Ror?” he asked, trying to make his voice sound casual, teasing. He missed the mark, though, and his words came out tight with tension. His need to protect Rory was giving him fits, but he shoved down the instinct. She was a professional, and he trusted her. Right now, she wasn’t his fiancée. She was his partner.
“Right behind you.” Unlike him, she sounded calm, as if they were training at the station. It steadied him, and he focused on the doorway.
“In we go, then.” Tucking his arms in close to his body, he ducked through the doorway, feeling like a circus acrobat jumping through a flaming hoop. Heat beat at him, pushing from all sides for a moment until he was past the fire. Turning, he saw Rory had made it into the room safely, and his shoulders lowered in relief.
Peering through the haze, he saw the faint shape of a bed, so they’d made it to the right room—as long as the dog hadn’t moved. The smoke was thick, and flames licked at the wall next to the kitchen. Fire was starting to spread across the ceiling as well, and Ian moved more quickly. They needed to find the dog and get out.
Rory was already searching. She’d dropped her hold on the hose and had circled to the other side of the bed. Although they weren’t far apart, he could barely see her, just a fuzzy outline in the haze. Ignoring the anxious tightening of his stomach, he checked his side of the room, but he didn’t see a dog.
“Found him,” Rory said crisply, and then continued in a softer tone. “Hey, Casey. We’re going to get you out of here.”
Ian moved quickly across the room, but he couldn’t see her. “Rory?” His voice was sharp with worry.
“Down here.”
He peered through the smoke and saw her crouched next to the bed. The ceiling above her was fully alight, and small pieces of flaming drywall were drifting down to char her coat and helmet. Squatting next to her, Ian ducked so he could see under the bed. “Great,” he groaned. “That’s the biggest dog I’ve ever seen.” It was white, furry, and enormous—and so terrified that he was shaking the entire bed. The whites of his eyes were visible even in the gloom.
“He’s not budging,” Rory said, reaching to grab his collar. “We’re going to need to pull him out.”
“Careful. Don’t get bitten.” He cautiously hooked one hand in the other side of the dog’s collar, and took a handful of scruff in his other. “Ready? On three. One, two, three.”
They gently hauled on the dog, and Casey began to slide across the wood floor toward them. He stiffened his front legs, bracing against them, but at least he didn’t try to bite. Once he was all the way out, Ian attempted to tug him up and get him on his feet, but the dog flattened his body against the floor.
“Can we drag him out?” Rory asked doubtfully.
Glancing at the doorway, Ian grimaced. “Not through there.” In the opening, the floor was completely ablaze. While they’d been getting the dog out from under the bed, the flames had spread. Now two walls were burning. They needed to get out—immediately.
“Help me lift him,” Ian said, and they hauled the petrified dog onto his shoulders. Ian grimaced as he stood. He felt like he was hoisting an elephant. Although the dog weighed about as much as an average-sized human, his mass was balanced differently—and the animal was stiff with terror. To add to Ian’s unease, the massive dog’s jaws were uncomfortably close to his face. “Be nice, Casey. Rory, you’re out first. Grab the hose.”
First, she pulled the smoldering quilt off the bed and dropped it on the leaping flames blocking the doorway. Only then did she grab the hose and duck into the main room. Ian, hunched over from the weight of the dog, followed right behind, wanting to cross before the fire burned through the quilt.
Rory moved quickly toward the front entrance, only stumbling once when she bumped her leg on the corner of a chair. The cabin was really burning now, and the flames were so loud that Ian didn’t even try to talk, knowing that his voice would be drowned out. Rory checked on him frequently with quick glances over her shoulder, and he realized that he’d done the same on the way in. Despite the situation, he wanted to smile. They were good at this “partners” thing.
