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slowed the car, aware of the snow melting as it hit the pavement. Taking deep breaths,
she succumbed to a mixture of fascination and stark fear fire always generated inside.
Smoke rose above the tallest buildings in Clifton and the wind blew in a southeast
direction. A red haze drifted with the breeze, and she smelled the smoke despite being
enclosed in the car. In the distance she heard sirens, and looked in her rear view mirror in
case any emergency vehicles came up behind her. If she took a side street she would be
closer to the action and yet not in the way.
Then she saw it.
Orange flames danced from the top floor of the four-story warehouse. Grabbing her
equipment, Autumn left her car and headed for the scene. More smoke assaulted her
nostrils. She took a deep breath and regretted it. She choked a little on the stench. She
rounded a corner less than a block from the fire and saw the emergency apparatus already
at the scene. Seconds later, as she quickened her pace, a strange sucking noise filled the
air. Deep in her gut, she guessed what would happen.
Flashover.
A blast ripped through the windows on the top floor. She ducked into an alleyway in
case debris rained down on the area. Flames roared from the windows with incredible
force, the strange whirling noise they created a testimony to their ferocity.
Then she heard something that almost stopped her heart.
“Dillon and Newland are on the third floor! Flames are chasing downward to their
position! Stairway blocked! Get a ladder right now!”
Chapter Four
Jack is in that building.
Autumn glanced up at the flames pouring from the windows. A ladder truck
dispensed water on the fire, attempting to douse the consuming monster. Fire-heated
water steamed and splashed through the windows. She saw firefighters on the roof,
probably attempting to chainsaw a hole for ventilation.
Her throat tightened and her heart started a new rhythm of anticipation and edgy
trepidation. She knew Jack must feel the same thing. Fear often kept people in this
profession alive, along with skill, determination, strength, and perhaps dumb luck.
Right now, she wanted Jack to have all the dumb luck in the world.
Shouted orders mingled with the exclamations of bystanders. Firefighters obtained
the extension ladder, and above the noise, she heard the ladder commands necessary for
safety. Soon they had the ladder hoisted and secured. More sirens blared as a second
truck roared up to the scene and firefighters leapt from the big vehicle.
She knew arsonists often stayed at a scene to enjoy their fiery creations, so she
moved nearer the growing crowd. Thirty or forty people watched, their expressions filled
with fascination and horror.
She snapped several photos in quick succession, certain to catch each angle. She
might not fight wildfires anymore, but she understood the excitement of conquering the
burning beast and wanted to document the struggle, as well as the crowd’s fascination—
just in case the alleged arsonist had stuck around.
After taking several photos, she saw Todd Geraldo and Micky Roman standing in the
crowd, their expressions dark and interested, as if they savored the battle. Shuddering in
revulsion, she took their picture. Might as well add their nasty mugs to the selection.
A crash echoed from the building, and then more shouts. As she observed the
firefighters doing their job, bitterness chased her. She cursed the accident that had stolen
her career as a smoke jumper. Breathing deeply, she wrestled the demon into submission.
Witnessing the fire unearthed feelings of inadequacy and helplessness. She wasn’t too
proud at that moment, disappointed that she couldn’t watch a fire without wishing she
could help. Well, what did she expect? Maybe she wasn’t cured of everything that ailed
her, mentally or physically. She needed more time.
After all, she’d worked as a newspaper reporter in Denver, then as a smoke jumper
during fire season. She’d juggled the two jobs with the knowledge she couldn’t fight fires
forever. Journalism was her net and her next interest.
Still, old regret lingered.
She turned away from the crowd and scribbled notes on her pad. As an afterthought,
she added what she felt. Elliott said he expected her reports to be more than mere fact
ventures. She would do two stories; one would be the truth of the event, the other her
feelings on what she saw. She strained to hear what the other firefighters said about Jack
and Hank.
Her gut clenched as she thought about the danger firefighters faced. A weakened
roof could collapse, pitching them into the flames, or down a few floors to their death. A
shiver replaced the adrenaline. She forced herself to take more photographs and notes,
grabbing each detail.
Another series of shouts went up as one window broke outward, an ax crashing
through the glass from the inside. Two firefighters appeared at the window and climbed
out onto the ladder one by one. Knowing one of them must be Jack, she hurried forward
in some relief. She jockeyed for position and reached the front of the crowd. She snapped
another photo of the men descending the ladder.
“That was close,” one of the spectators said to another person watching the fire.
“Too close.”
She knew what he meant. Her heart seemed jammed up somewhere around her [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]