He heard sirens. Somebody must have called it in. What about Derrick? Was he out?
The flames roared higher, and the heat drove him back, clenching Maverick’s leash. He slammed the door. They’d have to find another way. The dog whimpered. “Calma, cane guerriero!”
Rob pulled the dog along into the living room and checked the window. He couldn’t see as much smoke or flames out that one. Maybe they could do this. He could jump, but would Maverick? He’d have to make sure of it. He opened the window and climbed through it, lowering himself onto the porch roof, letting the leash lengthen. He pulled on the leash to pull Maverick through the window and down to join him.
The dog seemed unsure and whined. “Jump, Maverick!” The dog whimpered. “Calma, Cane guerriero!” Damn. What was the phrase he needed? “Maverick, saltare qui!”
The dog jumped and landed a foot from him. “Good boy, Maverick. Just a little more to go.” He didn’t know if the dog understood him, and right now he didn’t have the Italian vocabulary to spell everything out.
Smoked filled the air. The sirens told him professional help was still too far away. They’d have to jump and risk broken bones. He was not going to die in some small Southern town after surviving a war zone and the Taliban. Shit. Here goes.
He grabbed onto Maverick’s leash and moved with the dog to the edge of the roof. Yep, there was enough room for them to land without smashing into a tree. No bushes to cushion the fall, though. He inhaled a big breath. “Saltiamo giù!” He pulled Maverick with him as he jumped off the roof with the Malinois a foot behind him. Once they were in the air, he let go of the leash and positioned himself as best he could, to absorb the impact, by rolling. He dimly knew that Maverick had lengthened his body and stretched out to meet the ground.
Then together, they lay on the ground, several feet apart. His body ached, and he rolled over to check on Maverick. The dog seemed stunned, and Rob slowly sat up and crawled over to make sure nothing was broken—on either of them.
“Are you okay, buddy?” He felt through the dog’s fur and checked his legs. Maverick lifted his head to lick his face. “Yeah, boy, I think we’re both okay. Va bene, right?”
Derrick found them just as two fire trucks and an ambulance pulled up. “Oh, my God, I’m glad to see you! I thought you hadn’t made it out. When I got out and saw the stairs engulfed, I didn’t know if you’d make it.”
“Any idea what started it?”
“It wasn’t the grill, I know that. I poured water on the coals after you went upstairs.”
“You need to move farther away,” said a fireman as he dragged a hose toward them. “We’ll need a lot of luck to save this place.”
They nodded, and Derrick helped Rob to his feet. He snapped his fingers at Maverick, and the dog slowly got to his feet.
“You better get checked out by the EMTs, man,” said Derrick. “They can check him out, too.” He pointed toward the Malinois. Maverick was on his feet, but limped on his rear left leg.
Together, the three of them approached the ambulance where two EMTs checked out both men. They wiped off Rob’s soot-covered face and gave him a blanket to cover his bare chest. Parts of his body would be bruised tomorrow, but otherwise, he was fine. They gave both men a shot of oxygen for good measure.
“Can you check out my service dog?” Rob asked the red-haired EMT who wore a name tag that read “Kenny.”
“Sure. Let me get the dog-sized oxygen mask. Do you think he’ll be able to handle it?”
“Can you let me put it on him?”
Kenny nodded and dug around in an inside drawer and handed Rob an oxygen mask adapted to cover an animal snout and mouth.
“Calma, canine guerriero. Va bene.” He petted Maverick’s head as he attached the breathing apparatus. He continued to pet and talk to him softly as the EMT checked Maverick’s body, legs, feet, and pads for any injuries. Although the dog’s eyes were wide, he didn’t move or growl.
“He was limping on his left rear leg,” Rob explained.
“Yeah, he may have a pulled ligament. Did he jump from the roof, as well?”
“It was the only way to escape. The flames blocked the stairs.”
“You’re both lucky, then. No serious injuries. Watch him for the next few days and if the limping continues, you’ll want to take him to his vet on Monday. Try to discourage a lot of physical exercise, especially running and jumping. Walks are probably okay.”
“Thanks.” Rob shook Kenny’s hand.
“Y’all sit and rest here for a bit. I suspect the fire chief will want to talk with you.”
He and Derrick watched as the firefighters pulled hoses to different parts of the building and sprayed water on it. Smoke continued to billow despite their attempts. They heard a crash as the stairs to Rob’s apartment collapsed, along with a section of the roof nearby.
There went his apartment. The most important thing was that he and Maverick had escaped. He couldn’t have handled it if he’d lost Trevor and Maverick. He watched as a fire-suited middle-aged man approached them.
He pulled off his fire helmet and extended his hand. “I’m Chief Williams. You guys all right?”
They each shook his hand and introduced themselves.
“You’re lucky you both got out.” He looked down at Maverick, who had finished being examined. “Glad your dog made it out, too.”
“He’s the one who alerted me to the fire. He’s a Marine service dog.”
“That’s interesting. Does he usually alert to fire?”
“Not really, unless there’s an accelerant or explosive or a large
