All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)(87)



She smiled. “You’ve always been that. Although it is a very nice—”

The alarms went off. She was out of her chair and moving before the sound even registered. As she ran into the building, she heard the loudspeaker calling out the address. Before the announcement had finished, she was jerking on her turnouts.

Olivia appeared at her side. The captain was pale, her eyes wide.

“It’s the warehouse,” she said, as they both grabbed helmets. “The one on the edge of town. My son told me that teenagers have been hanging out there. It’s a party place.”

Charlie swore. Teens partying usually meant alcohol. It also meant acting stupid. With the nights getting colder, the kids could have started a fire to stay warm. Or because they thought it would be fun. Old buildings and flames didn’t go well together.

They ran to the engine. “I told him not to go there,” Olivia said as she took the right-hand seat. “What if he didn’t listen?”

Charlie didn’t have an answer. The engine rumbled to life. Before she pulled out, she saw Clay and rolled down the window.

“Phone dispatch and tell them to call in the trainees. You’ll be in charge of them. Stay out of the way and help where you can.”

He nodded once, then took off toward the phone. She hit the siren and drove out into the night.

* * *

CLAY STOOD ON the sidewalk, momentarily immobilized by the rage of the fire. The warehouse was a block long, about three stories high, wood construction with a brick facade. Most of the windows were boarded up.

The flames were everywhere. Coming out the roof, shooting from the few openings that hadn’t been covered over. Smoke rose into the night. It wouldn’t take long until there weren’t any visible stars, just thick, black smoke that stole oxygen and blinded those inside.

Once again, the sound shocked him. The roar of destruction, the crash as parts of the building collapsed. Snaps and screams filled the night as the structure fought against the inevitable.

“Go set up the monitor over there,” Captain Fargo yelled.

Clay wanted to go help, but knew he would only get in the way. He stayed back by the engines, pulling out hoses when asked and keeping the growing crowd far enough away.

He didn’t know if word had spread in the small town or if people could see and smell the massive fire. Either way, the two observers had grown to a crowd of fifteen or twenty.

One woman ran toward him. She was blond and frantic, her eyes wide, her cheeks wet with tears. “My daughter’s in there,” she screamed. “She’s at the party. You have to help her.”

The captain turned. “Get her back,” she yelled. “Keep them all back.” She started toward the building, then stopped. “How many teens?”

The mother sobbed. “I don’t know. Eight. Maybe ten. Oh, God. Tell me she’s okay.”

Clay grabbed her around the waist and pulled her clear. “If you get in their way, they can’t help.”

He half led, half dragged her to the sidewalk. The other volunteer trainees showed up and he organized them into keeping the civilians safely away from the fire.

Several police officers arrived. He talked to Chief Barns, telling her how long the fire department had been there. More equipment pulled up as the two alarm grew to four. There were only five stations in Fool’s Gold. He heard a policewoman say a call had gone out to nearby communities.

Smoke and sparks filled the air. Bits of embers landed on the sidewalk. Firefighters with axes and air packs disappeared into the building and later reappeared. Minutes later, a tall firefighter hurried out, her arms around two teenagers. The paramedics moved in to help them.

Clay studied the firefighter, noting the familiar number on her helmet. Charlie, he thought, relieved. But once the teens were safely with the medics, she turned and, with another firefighter, disappeared back into the inferno.

Time crawled. More kids appeared. Two were carried. Clay watched the warehouse, waiting for Charlie to reappear. He told himself that she wasn’t alone. That she would be fine. This was what she did, who she was.

The ground moved. For a second, he thought they were having an earthquake. From behind him, he heard screams. He glanced back at the warehouse. The roof seemed to shimmer and dance then slowly, so slowly, folded in on itself. The outside west wall disintegrated.

Smoke and dust and debris rose like a living creature. The sounds faded until there was only the beating of his heart and a primal scream. No!

He was running before he knew what had happened. Running, determined. Because Charlie was still in the building. Charlie was in danger and he had to save her.

Someone yelled. He heard words, but they didn’t penetrate. Someone grabbed him. He pushed the arms away. He was nearly there. Heat blasted him; he couldn’t breathe, but that didn’t matter. There were more arms, then he couldn’t run. He was being held in place.

Rational thought returned and with it came fear. The cold kind that rose from his bones and made it impossible to move.

“I swear to God, I will knock you unconscious myself,” the captain told him. “Stay the f**k here.”

Clay nodded because he couldn’t speak. He stared at the building, making deals with God, offering all he had. His life, his soul, everything. If Charlie would just be okay.

Embers landed on his shirt and burned through to his skin, but he didn’t move. Water continued to flow onto the burning building and the smoke gradually turned from black to gray. Firefighters raced in and out of the building, dark silhouettes against the devil’s handiwork.

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