Off Chance os-5 Page 2

  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.

  It’s then that I notice the dog seems to be lying on top of something, and based on the size and curves, it’s painfully obvious it’s a person under a blanket.

  Taking a step toward the bed, holding my hand out, palm down, I speak in a calm voice, “Hey boy... you gonna let me help whoever that is you’re lying on? Huh? Gonna let me take a peek?”

  Not surprisingly, the dog lays his ears back flat and issues a deep growl. My voice just issued through the amp of my mask and I completely sounded like Darth Vader. I know I’m probably going to catch shit for this, but I take my helmet off and toss it near the window. I see Tim standing there, his face peering in. I hold my hand up to him to just wait and I quickly loosen the straps on my face piece to pull it off.

  With the mask gone, at least the dog can hear my real voice and hopefully won’t be as freaked. I, on the other hand, immediately notice the smoke is thicker and it’s hard to breathe. I’m guessing the fire has breached into this unit.

  Inching forward carefully, I keep talking to the dog in a soft, reassuring voice. Now that the dog understands that I’m not Darth Vader and I’m here to save, not destroy, his ears perk forward and he just watches my progress with his head cocked to the side.

  As I reach the edge of the bed, I take one last look at the dog, which I can now see is lying across the legs of whoever is under the blanket. He just stares back at me... expectantly.

  “Do you mind if I pull these covers back?” I ask, feeling ridiculous as I do so.

  His gaze at me never wavers, but he cocks his head in the opposite direction as if he’s saying, Well, what the hell are you waiting for?

  Reaching out, I peel the covers back, revealing the face of a woman underneath. Her dark hair is lanky and her eyes are closed, with dark blue circles underneath. She’s on her side and it stands out to me that she has several piercings in her exposed ear, traveling all the way around the entire shell. Giving a quick glance at the dog, who still lies across the woman’s legs, I peel the blanket back further. When it reaches her shoulders, I realize that she’s naked underneath so I halt my progress.

  Grabbing onto her shoulder, I shake her slightly. “Ma’am... I need you to wake up now. I need to get you out of here.”

  She doesn’t move or respond in anyway.

  Just great... she’s probably high as a kite right so now I’m rescuing a dog and a bombed-out druggie.

  I look at the dog again and he just stares back at me, as if to say, It’s still your job to save her.

  “Yeah, I know... I got it,” I answer his silent plea.

  I try one more time to rouse her, tapping her on the cheek lightly. “Come on, lady. Wake up.”

  She still makes no move so, with a sigh of frustration, I reach down to lift her up, sticking my arms under the blanket so it comes with her to keep her covered for modesty.

  I give a pointed look to the dog. “Get up, you big lug, so I can lift her.”

  Much to my surprise, the dog immediately bounds off the bed and walks over to the window, not caring in the slightest that there are glass shards littering the floor. His paws are probably going to get cut but I can’t worry about that now.

  Bending my knees, I scoop the woman up and lift her from the bed.

  Except my momentum is stopped as something pulls against us.

  What the fuck?

  Lowering her back down to the bed, I flip the blanket back and curse over the sight that greets me.

  Her right leg has a manacle cuffed around it and it’s chained to the metal bed frame at the bottom.

  Now I’m not so sure she has voluntarily taken drugs.

  The sight of her chained to the bed makes my blood run cold and now there is a greater sense of urgency to get her out of this structure. Without wasting any precious time, I
turn to Tim and call out, “Get the bolt cutters off the Engine. She’s chained to the bed.”

  Tim’s face is immediately gone from the window but I don’t wait for him to return. I grab my ax and start hitting at the chain. It’s thick and stubborn, and under ordinary circumstances, my ax would be useless against the steel links. But when I saw this woman chained to the bed, I had a moment of clarity where I told myself, This woman will not die the way Marney did. I’m getting her out of here.

  I strike at the chain with all of my might, sparks flying from the metal-on-metal contact. Mentally counting to myself every time I make a blow, it’s only on the eighth hit that the chain miraculously breaks apart and the woman is freed.

  Tossing my ax near the window, I wrap the blanket more securely around her and easily lift her from the bed. She can’t weigh more than a hundred and ten pounds, if that.

  When I reach the window, Tim is there with bolt cutters, which he immediately drops when he sees me with the woman. I squat down so her body is level with the window and pass her through head first to Tim’s outstretched arms. As Tim takes her upper body, I help to thread her lower half through the window until he’s cradling her fully.

  “She’s unconscious... probably drugged. I can’t believe she was fucking chained to the bed.”

  Tim doesn’t respond but he doesn’t have to. I know he’s as disgusted as I am.

  “I’ll be right behind you. I’m going to get this dog out.”

  Tim turns away but yells back, “Don’t get bit.”

  Pulling my head back in the window, I locate and grab my helmet, face piece, and ax tossing them through the window, hearing them clatter on the concrete driveway below. The Chief will have my ass if he knows I had taken them off, but I know it helped to keep the dog at ease. Turning around, I look at the dog solemnly. “You’re not going to bite me if I pick you up, are you?”

  The dog gives me a vigorous wag of his tail and I take that as his full acquiescence that he will be good and keep his teeth sheathed.

  Squatting down, I wrap my arms around the dog’s chest and lift his front paws to the windowsill, resting them there. Squatting again, I reach his back haunches and haul him up, pushing him forward out the window. The damn dog weighs a ton but he doesn’t resist me. Once he realizes he’s going out the window, he kicks his back legs out against my chest, springing forward and leaping the rest of the way out. I see him land in the driveway with a grace that belies his massive frame.

  Throwing my leg through the window, I follow behind him.

  As I walk back to the front of the house, I see the fire is mostly contained. This turned out to be a fairly easy fire but I’m thankful that dog was barking, or else we may not have found the girl in time.

  Speaking of the dog, I look around but don’t see the shaggy beast anywhere. Shrugging my shoulders, I head over to the ambulance. One EMT is placing an oxygen mask on the woman’s face, while the other takes her vitals. She appears to be gaining consciousness and I find myself curious as to why she was chained to the bed.

  Reaching up, she tugs at the oxygen mask. The EMT pulls her hand away and tells her to leave it in place. Shaking her head back and forth, she pulls on it again, this time with more force than I would have thought she had, and rips it off.

  “Capone,” she gasps. “Please, get him out of the house.”

  The EMT looks at me and says, “Was someone else in the house?”

  I nod my head and step up into the ambulance. “Her dog. That’s who she’s talking about.”

  Sitting on the bench next to the woman, I lean over and take the mask from her hand. As I start to gently pry her fingers away, I tell her, “I got your dog out. He’s fine.”

  Her fingers immediately go lax and the mask slips from her grip. I start to pull it back up over her mouth and nose, but my hands freeze when I look at her eyes. They are pinned on me and they are the most unique eyes I have ever seen in my life. I can’t seem to tear my gaze away.

  They are gray—almost utterly devoid of anything other than that particular shade that is right in between black and white. Except... there’s a slight ring of green and gold flecks that hug her pupils and they stand out in stark contrast to the silver. She’s staring at me with the most thankful expression I’ve ever been bestowed.

  Reaching out, she locks her fingers around my wrist. “Thank you,” she whispers, and then she loses consciousness again.

  2

  I throw the last of my dirty clothes into my duffel bag and zip it up. This last call officially threw me into overtime, having received it just as the end of my three-day shift had expired. Now it’s time to go home and relax for the next four days.

  Best of all, if I skirt out of here quickly, I can avoid the Chief’s wrath altogether. He’s been holed up in his office since we pulled back in and has apparently forgotten that he was going to chew me out just a few hours ago.

  “You headed out?”

  Swinging around, I see Tim standing in the doorway to our sleeping quarters. He’s leaning against the doorframe, his beefy arms folded across his chest.

  “Yup. How about you?”

  “Yeah. Headed over to Sam’s school to pick him up. You know... surprise him.”

  I smile. Tim takes every opportunity he can to spend time with Sam. It’s hard being a fireman because you work such odd hours. Ever since Tim got divorced, he takes every available opportunity to spend it with his son. Luckily, Tim’s ex is pretty cool and works with him outside of their normal custody arrangement.

  “That sounds great. Give the little monster a hug from me.”

  Tim gives me a grin that flashes sparkly white against his dark skin. “Sure will.”

  Turning my back, I lift up my duffel and sling it over my shoulder. When I turn around, Tim is still standing there, staring at me.

  “Listen,” he says, glancing briefly at the ground and then back up at me again, “I’m sorry I said that shit to you earlier. I just don’t want you to do something stupid that gets you suspended or fired.”

  Walking up to Tim, I punch him lightly in the shoulder. It’s like hitting concrete. “No worries, man. I get it.”

  “We’re cool, then?”

  “We’re cool. Are you up for watching the game tomorrow at my place?” Tim and I are die-hard Jets fans.

  “Yup. I’ll bring the beer.”

  “And you’re bringing Sam, right? I got this killer new Xbox game to show him.”

  Rolling his eyes at me, Tim just turns around and walks out. “He’s coming, too. We’ll see you around game time.”

  Peeking my head around the door and looking down the hall, I see the Chief’s office door is still closed so I make a break for it. Just as I’m stepping out onto the sidewalk, I hear, “Caldwell... wait up.”

  Turning around, I see my teammate, Jim Skellig, trotting toward me. I hope he makes this quick because every second delayed is one that the Chief could be calling for me.

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  “Pete told me you were looking for a roommate.”

  “Yeah... I’m considering it.”

  Fact is, I’ve always had a roommate while living in the city. It was nice to share expenses and it kept the loneliness down to a minimum. My last roommate had been with me for the past three years while he attended NYU-Poly, but graduated this past spring and moved on.

  “Cool. I have a friend who has a friend that’s going to be moving to the area next month and is looking to share some space. Want me to have him contact you?”

  “Sure. Just give him my email if you don’t mind.”

  “Got it.”

  “All right, man... I’m out of here. Catch you in a few days.”

  Jim gives me a casual wave and walks back into the station. I turn down Sheffield Avenue and head south. It’s the beginning of September and it’s finally starting to cool off. I swear I smelled a hint of fall in the air when I woke up this morning.

  Luckily, I live close to the firehouse
and it’s only about a twenty-minute walk for me. I only drive if the weather is really crappy and today I’m enjoying the crisp weather.

  As I walk toward my apartment building, my mind drifts back to the woman I pulled out of the house. I can’t stop thinking about the fact she was chained to a bed. I mean... what kind of monster does that to someone? And I can’t stop thinking that what if she was chained to the bed and the fire was started to kill her? Could she have been a target for murder? It seems unlikely since most of the fire was in the other unit, but that could have been done intentionally to cover motive.

  Thank God that dog was barking. He deserves a good chunk of the credit for getting her out safely.

  Shit... I really hope the pup is okay.

  Now that is weighing heavily on my mind.

  Stopping abruptly on the sidewalk, I get a curse from someone behind me that about plows into my backside. I ignore the person and glance at my watch.

  Before I can talk myself out of it, I cross the street and head toward the parking deck that has my car.

  Yes, I know... I like to save things. I can’t stomach the thought of that poor dog out on the streets by himself. He could get hit by a car, starve to death, or hell, someone could shoot the damn beast. My mind runs rampant with all the terrible things that could happen to the dog and my step quickens to reach my car.

  Saving the dog, of course, has nothing to do with the fact that I’m curious about his owner. The dog clearly belonged to the woman I pulled from the house, because he was protecting her and barking for help.

  Running off to rescue some stranger’s dog certainly has nothing to do with the fact that I can’t seem to get the image of those gray eyes out of my mind. Nor does it have anything to do with the fact that, based on the hideous circumstances I found her in, some part of my hero-alarm bell is starting to ring.

  If my parents, my sister, my cousins, or even Tim, knew I was off to go hunt for this dog and possibly learn more about this woman, they would all be shaking their head with pity in their eyes.