Cops are there, setting up barriers so onlookers can’t get too close.
“What’s the status?” I ask once Ezra and I are beside the chief.
“North end is under control. Fire is spreading fast inside, and we’re checking the south end of the complex for anyone still inside. Need you to assist,” he yells over all the noise.
Ezra and I start running for the mainly unaffected south end of the building.
We stop by a door, preparing to enter by fastening our helmets when an open window catches my attention on the back side of the building. Someone is yelling—a man—and I draw Ezra’s gaze to it.
“Shit,” he yells before we run inside.
The window is on the third floor, so we locate the back stairs, checking each door we come to for fire. Thankfully, it hasn’t made it all the way to the end. But it’s approaching quickly. It’s more likely the smoke will take the man out first, but this is what I do. I became a firefighter to save people, and I risk my life each time I enter a burning building.
We stop at the third-story landing, and Ezra puts out a hand, stopping before we open the door. It’s clear. We run down the hall, banging on doors, a lot of them standing open where their occupants have vacated, until we get to a closed door.
“Hello? Is anyone in there?” I yell, listening intently for a reply. “Hello?” I say again and then step back, kicking at the door.
My chief’s voice flashes through my head, making me pause for a second. “You can’t help anyone if you are dead.”
I look over my shoulder to see Ezra making his way along the rest of the doors before he stops at the end. This apartment complex is structured oddly. The buildings are connected, but the hallways don’t go the entire way through, so that limits us to this tiny space.
I pause as I hear it—the sound of a voice—and I know I’m at the right door.
I kick it in, yelling, “Who’s in here? Where are you?”
I quickly make my way through the front room, the smoke growing from the fire creeping up. I have sweat rolling down my face, my neck, soaking my body inside my gear. It’s heavy, and I’m hot.
“In here,” the voice screams back, sounding closer now that I’m inside the apartment.
I turn my attention in the direction I heard it, noting that Ezra has joined me.
“Someone’s in here,” I tell him, and he nods as we make our way to the back.
The only shut door has a dresser pulled in front of it, and I glance at Ezra as he looks back at me.
“What the fuck?” he says.
We reach for the dresser and shove it sideways, revealing the closed door. It’s wrenched open from the other side, and the man is wild-eyed as he looks at us.
“Thank God. Thank God,” he says, relief evident. “I have to get out of here.”
He pushes past me, but I stop him.
“Is there anyone else here?” I ask, needing to know before we leave.
“There,” he says and slips from my grasp, running out the door as Ezra tries in vain to stop him as well.
He turns at the door and shakes his head at me, indicating that the man is gone. I look back into the room, seeing it’s a bathroom, and my eyes drop to the floor where someone is lying facedown, a puddle of blood on the floor.
“There’s someone else,” I yell to Ezra as I step inside the bathroom.
I make an executive decision to attempt to carefully flip the man over, even before checking his injuries. We don’t have the time right now, and the medics can look him over once we get outside.
Ezra comes in the bathroom, but it’s too little for us both to maneuver with a third man, so he steps back out as I lean down, putting my hands on the guy’s arms and slowly turning him over. My breath catches, and I can feel my heart sink.
“No, no, no,” I mutter over and over.
I move up to check his head, which is beside the puddle of blood. There’s a bump, a gash that has crusted over. I can’t check his pulse with my gloves on, so I pause a moment, relief crashing through me when I see his chest rise and lower.
“Everything okay?” Ezra asks.
I look over my shoulder. “It’s Mark,” I say, and I can see the name register on his face.
“Fuck, man. Come on. We don’t have much time.”
I nod, reaching down to scoop him up. His sheer size and my gear make lifting him difficult, but once I have him, I follow Ezra out. It’s slow-going as we make it through the apartment, Ezra clearing the way in front of us, and once we’re in the hallway, I set a quicker pace. The smoke is stifling, and I have to get Mark out of here.
Once we reach the staircase, Ezra holds the door for me, and I descend the first set, no problem. The next set of stairs proves more difficult as Mark’s weight grows on me, and I set my foot down wrong, my leg collapsing underneath me.
I lurch forward, my front crashing into Ezra as he turns slightly, grabbing and managing to keep Mark from hitting the ground as I fall.
“Ben, you okay?” Ezra says, his arms wrapped around Mark’s still-unconscious form.
I grab the railing, trying to right myself. Pain shoots through my ankle, causing me to buckle again.
“Fuck. Take Mark. I’ll be all right,” I say.
Ezra scoops Mark’s body more
