“There was a fire,” he says, nodding his head.
My alerts go right back up.
“Can you show me?”
“Yeah.” He opens the door wider, and that’s when I see the woman lying motionless on the couch.
Shoot. Dispatch sent the wrong unit.
“I need a bus,” I holler into my radio.
“What’s wrong?” Caleb yells, tromping in behind me.
“Check the kid’s fire. I got the woman.” I crouch down, checking for signs of physical injury. I drop my helmet to the floor and lean over her motionless body, lightly pressing my fingers to her neck.
“Ahhhh!” She jolts and bolts upright. Her face flies at me. Our heads smash together.
I recoil from the added pain in my skull. I fall backward, unable to stop myself until the back of my head hits the floor. Darkness closes in around me.
Five
Lyndi
Youknowthosetimesyou wake up and can’t place where you are?
Where in the actual heck am I right now?
I rub the sore spot on my forehead, blinking rapidly.
There’s a firefighter on the ground. And I think I just knocked him out.
Why is there a firefighter here anyway?
“Crew!” I jump to my feet and step over the firefighter. “Crew?”
“Hey.” Another firefighter emerges from my bedroom, and I scream again. I’m not afraid of men in uniforms. In fact, in another situation, I might actually enjoy all the interesting company. But why in the H-E-double hockey sticks is my place swarming with them?
“Sorry, I’m Caleb. Your little guy said there was a fire in the bedroom,” the fireman says as Crew runs out from the room behind him. “It was just an oil diffuser.”
The firefighter smiles like this must happen all the time. I wonder if his partner often gets knocked out on the job as well.
“Crew,” I groan and pull him into my side. “I told you yesterday it wasn’t smoke.”
“But Aunt Maddie said it was lit. Like a campfire,” Crew says.
That’s the last time I let Maddie give me her unwanted junk.
“I’m so sorry,” I say to the firefighter. “I just fell asleep, and he must have taken my phone.”
Caleb’s eyes narrow. “Wait, you were only sleeping? Where’s Ward?” He looks over my shoulder. “What the—?”
“I didn’t mean to hurt him, I promise,” I say as Caleb darts to his partner. He shoots me a wary look before checking the man on the floor, whom I’m assuming is fine?
Another fireman rushes into the apartment. “What’s wrong?”
Caleb sits back on his heels, his gaze running over Ward’s prone body.
“Oh my gosh, did I kill him?” I knew I should have checked his pulse or something, but how am I supposed to know the routine? I’m not a first responder. That wassupposedto be the guy on the floor.
