“McBride!”
Turning toward the call of one of the firefighters, he raced toward the lobby doors. Team four tramped through the brightly lit lobby with heavy booted footsteps. The lingering scent of food wafted by, not usually what they smelled when called to a fire. Moving past the white cloth-covered tables with the remnants of catered hors d’oeuvres, the scent disappeared as he pulled on his face mask, starting the oxygen as they entered the stairwell.
The equipment he carried on his back was different from what the firefighters carried since his were medical emergency supplies, but they were equally as heavy. The firefighters unrolled the hoses as they ascended, checking in with the team leader to see how to advance the initial attack line.
“Roll up first two?”
“No, drop through middle.”
The stairwell was clear of smoke, and in a single line, they moved upward, keeping track of the floors they passed by the large numbers painted on the walls. Once they reached the fifth floor, another firefighter began to unroll his hose, connecting it to the hoses that snaked to the lower floors.
More chatter came through the radio from various teams. “Floor two clear.” “Floor three clear.” “Floor eleven clear.”
Desperate to see if Sandy was on the eighth floor, he hustled after the man in front of him as they climbed, and the team leader called off the floor specs as they were being fed to him. “Stairs enter to the side of the lobby facing east. No residences. Three offices to the left. Three to the right. Alarm coming from the first office to the left.”
Not having any idea where Sandy was, it hit Rory that the smoke alarm was coming from an area that she would have designed. And was concerned about the electrical fuse boxes.
Coming to the fire barrier stair door on the eighth floor, they pulled it open slowly. The lobby was visible, a small amount of smoke emanating from the left. As he reached the top and turned, he could see that the smoke was billowing from an open door leading into one of the offices. He stayed behind, allowing the firefighters to approach first, listening intently to their chatter between the captain and team leader.
“Visibility?”
“Almost none. Got the plans? What are we entering?”
“Office reception through door. Hallway and four more doors behind.”
“Panel?”
“Fuse box with sounding alarm on wall to the left of the door.”
More floor teams reported in. “Floor four clear.” “Floor ten clear.”
“We’re still missing three people,” the radio called. “Witnesses say a woman was going to the eighth floor to lock the office. Another man and woman can’t be accounted for.”
“Couple found on floor fourteen. Being escorted down now by Team two.”
“Seems they decided to try out the model condo’s bedroom and got stuck when the alarm went off.”
Rory could hear a mixture of chuckling over the radio but felt nothing but fear with Sandy still missing. Ignoring the radio chatter, he watched as his team leader crossed the doorway and turned toward the left.
“Flame on wall behind panel. Team three, Team six… need hose connection and call.”
The firefighters in the hall immediately dropped their hoses, two running back to the staircase to check the connections with the hoses from lower floors.
“Hose connected.” He stepped to the side as the firefighter closest to the door took the nozzle.
“Call for water,” the team leader radioed, taking hold of the nozzle as well.
The men held steady as the hose filled and the water blasted onto the wall, the sizzle of more smoke sounding out.
“Got a body. Just to the back of the desk straight in front of the door.” The team leader’s call over the radio sent shock waves through Rory, and he rushed past the other firefighters and into the smoke-filled office. Dropping to his knees, he crawled where visibility was better toward the area indicated.
Sandy!
Her eyes were closed, and she lay still, but her chest rose and fell with breaths. Thank you, God! An image of his mother kneeling in nightly prayers hit him, knowing she now included Sandy. Thank you, Mom, as well!
He was able to discern blood on her forehead and pushing her hair back slightly could see a laceration with bruising all around. Lifting his gaze, he spied the desk corner that she must have hit. But what caused her to fall?
Forcing his mind to the task, he called out, “Board.” He had carried the board on his back and felt another pair of hands shift him around as they released the board from its straps. Needing to get her out of the smoke-filled room as quickly as possible but not knowing the extent of her injuries, he battled the urge to scoop her up and run. “Woman found on floor eight. Injured. Eight-D-one. Twenty-one-A-one. Will bring her down on board. Standby transportation.”
Shifting her carefully, he tried to lean over her to protect her from the water raining down over them. Her eyes fluttered open as she moved her head. “Sandy? It’s Rory. We’re going to get you out of here.” Her eyes remained open, but confusion filled them, so he repeated, “Sandy, it’s Rory.”
As he placed the strap over her, she lifted her hand weakly and said, “C… can walk.”
“Nope.” His one-word reply was all it took for her hand to drop. He placed an oxygen mask over her face, and she closed her eyes.
The team leader shifted the hose to keep the water from hitting them directly. Bill came rushing toward him, dropping to his knees. “Sandy!”
“Gotta get her out of here,” Rory ordered, then looked over as Blay hustled toward them as well.
“Go,” Blay said, clapping him on the shoulder before moving into the smoldering office. Bill took the other end of the board, and with Rory at her head, they lifted her easily and moved into the hall where the air was clearer. Stalking directly to the staircase, they began the descent, her slight weight making
