“What the hell happened?” Hank muttered when they arrived to find flames shooting from several windows on the third floor. “I thought somebody’s dinner caught on fire.”
Sean latched on to one of the residents. “Is everybody out of the building?”
The man was clearly shaken. “I’m not sure. I just moved in last week. Second floor.”
“How many apartments are there altogether?” Sean asked.
“Six, two on each floor.”
“Okay, your apartment’s accounted for.”
“And Mrs. McGinty, it started in her place,” he said. “She’s right over there. And that’s her third-floor neighbor with her.”
“That leaves us with three more apartments we don’t know about,” Sean said, looking at Hank. “One on the second floor, two on the first.”
He saw their lieutenant trying to get similar information from the weeping old lady and her neighbor. “What do we have, Jack?” he hollered as he hauled hoses toward the front of the building where the flames were beginning to shoot through the roof.
“Everyone’s accounted for except an old man who lived on the second floor. He’s hard of hearing. Neighbors tried beating on the door on their way down, but they couldn’t wait. It was too hot.”
“I’m on it,” Sean said at once.
“You can’t go in there,” Jack protested. “The third floor’s engulfed. It could cave in any second. You’d be trapped.”
“I’m not leaving the man in there to die,” Sean said, not waiting for permission before scrambling over equipment to head inside.
The heat came at him in waves, accompanied by thick smoke that blurred his vision and made him choke.
“Dammit, Sean, are you crazy?” Hank said, on his heels.
“It’s one flight of steps. I can make it,” he insisted, dropping down to feel his way up the stairs. “You go back.”
“No way. I’m not living with guilt for the rest of my life if something happens to you while I’m standing around in the fresh air twiddling my thumbs. Now, stop arguing and move. Let’s get in and out while we still can.”
When Sean reached the second-floor landing, the smoke was so thick he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. He heard the crackling of flames just over head and the sizzle of the water trying to douse them.
“Come on, guys. Five minutes. Ten, tops. That’s all I need,” he muttered to himself. Thank God there were only two apartments. The door to the one on the right was ajar. More than likely that was the one the man outside had fled. That meant the old man was probably trapped in the apartment on the left.
He crawled across the landing, reached up and twisted the doorknob. The metal was hot to the touch, but not unbearable. No flames inside the apartment, not yet, anyway. Unfortunately, though, the door was locked.
Sean muttered a curse. “Hank, we’re going to have to knock it down.”
“Stand back. I’ll do it. You be ready to go inside. On the count of three. Ready?”
“Ready.” Sean stood up as Hank counted rapidly, then slammed his foot into the door just below the lock. It shattered on its hinges and he was inside, shouting, feeling his way through the thick smoke, coughing despite the gear meant to protect them from smoke inhalation.
He found the old man in the bedroom, next to the window. He’d passed out before he could get it open to call for help. Sean scooped him up and was about to turn around and head back the way he’d come, when wood splintered overhead and flaming beams crashed down around him, blocking his intended route of escape.
“Hank?” he shouted.
“I’m okay, but we’re not going out the easy way. Open the window. I’m right behind you.”
Despite the confidence of Hank’s words, Sean knew his partner better than anyone on earth. He heard the faint hitch in his voice that no one else would have been able to discern.
“Dammit, Hank, what’s wrong? Now’s no time to lie to me!”
“Just get out of here,” Hank shouted back.
He wasn’t nearly as close as Sean would have liked. He put the old man down long enough to get the window open. In seconds there was a ladder against the side of the building, and he was able to hand the victim to one of the other firefighters. Still there was no sign of Hank.
Sean looked back through the flames, wincing at the sting of smoke that blurred his vision. Hank was on the far side of the burning beam, on the floor, not moving. Sean had to fight against the wave of panic that crawled up his spine. He was not leaving Hank in here to die, and that was that.
He met the gaze of the firefighter at the top of the ladder. “I’m going back for Hank.”
“Dammit, Devaney, there’s no time.”
“I want you out of there now,” the lieutenant shouted up at him.
“No way in hell am I leaving Hank in here.” He glanced at the firefighter at the top of the ladder. “Move it. Buy me some time. Two minutes. That’s all I need.”
The man seemed about to argue, but then he was moving, shouting at the firefighters down below. Water began to splatter down through the destroyed roof. Flames sizzled and sputtered, but didn’t die. The smoke grew even thicker and more acrid, the way a doused campfire did just before it died out.
Sean dodged another falling beam engulfed with flames to reach Hank’s side. He didn’t waste time on questions about his friend’s injuries. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if Hank was conscious. Sean just picked Hank up as if he weighed nothing and pushed his way back toward the window, oblivious to the heat, just totally focused on getting his partner to safety.
He handed Hank’s limp body through the window to another waiting
