Hard to Resist - By Kara Lennox Page 0,62

was already in sight.

“So what’s it like working for my brother?” Tina asked.

Pure hell. Fortunately, Ethan was saved from answering when the alarm went off.

He put down his knife and fork. “That’s my cue.”

“Oh, Ethan, be careful.”

“I’m always careful.” And with that he was gone, to the apparatus room to don his turnout gear.

His adrenaline surged as word came over the radio—there was a real fire, a house fire, fully involved.

So far, Kat’s apartment building was the only serious fire Ethan had fought. He realized it would be years before he would go on a call like this and not be terrified.

It took them only three minutes to reach the fire, and it was a beaut. A large frame house had smoke pouring out almost every one of its boarded-up windows. He hoped the place wasn’t occupied.

Engine 59 was the first to arrive, and Captain Campeon was right behind him driving the ladder truck. Campeon assumed command of the situation. “The structure isn’t even stable at this point,” he barked out. “Neighbors report the house was unoccupied, and the house itself probably isn’t salvageable. Our highest priority is to keep nearby structures from igniting.”

He might not be the most pleasant man in the world, but he thought fast on his feet.

Other engines arrived, but Ethan focused on his task. He and Murph McCrae, who’d finally reconciled himself to having a rookie at his elbow, were to locate the utility shutoff valves and disconnect them all.

These big, old houses sometimes had more than one cutoff, if the place had been broken up into apartments. Fortunately, Murph went right to the gas.

“You work enough fires, you get an instinct about where to look.” He stood back and let Ethan do the actual work.

Ethan had just turned the valve when he heard something—coughing, a strangled cry—coming from inside.

They’d been told the house was empty. Had he imagined the sound?

He looked at the lieutenant. Murph had heard it, too, and he was already grabbing for his radio.

“Engine Fifty-nine to Incident Command. There’s someone inside, I can hear him. Request permission to execute a primary search.”

“Engine Fifty-nine, affirmative,” came the reply.

Murph had an ax, and he used it attack the rotting plywood covering one of the windows, quickly reducing it to splinters. Smoke wafted out.

Ethan hoisted himself up onto the bottom of the window frame and tried to see in.

“I can see the guy,” Ethan said. But the smoke was getting thicker, and soon all he could make out was a pair of bare feet attached to someone who was clearly incapacitated.

Murph cursed. “Wait for me, eager beaver. I’m bigger than you.”

Ethan waited, but he called to the victim, trying to get a response.

There, he heard it again, the feeble groan. The guy was alive. Ethan dropped to his hands and knees, and Murph was soon beside him. Down low, it was clear enough to see with his flashlight. He spotted the bare feet again.

“Over here,” he said. He and Murph crawled to the victim, who appeared to be an old man who’d been squatting in the vacant house, if a pile of nasty bedding and garbage sack of aluminum cans nearby were any indication.

He was still conscious, and Ethan grasped him by the shoulders and started dragging. When the old guy yelled in protest, Ethan realized the floor was covered with burning embers. They dropped from above like hail from hell.

Ethan hoisted the man over his shoulder. It seemed the fastest way.

“Let’s get out of here,” Murph yelled. “I don’t like the looks of that—” Before he could even finish the sentence, something cracked overhead. Ethan went as fast as he could toward the window, then realized he couldn’t see it. He’d become disoriented, and standing up where the smoke was thicker, he couldn’t see a thing.

Murph grabbed his arm. “This way.”

The ceiling was about to come down. Embers had turned to burning chunks of wood and plaster.

They reached the bright light of the window, which appeared out of nowhere. Murph climbed through first, and then Ethan shoved out the old man, who was making enough noise to let them know he was still breathing and not very happy about leaving behind his stash of aluminum cans. Murph cursed as the old man kicked at him and they both fell to the ground outside. Not the prettiest rescue, but mission accomplished.

Ethan had just braced his hands against the window frame to climb out himself, when an unholy noise from above made him look up.