prologue
October
Chico, California
Donny
Whoot whoot whooooot.
The wail of the fire engine's claxon always got my blood pumping, but especially on calls like this one, heading toward a city fire. Our Cal Fire station usually worked wildfires. When we were called out to help city firefighters on a blaze, you knew it was gonna be bad. City fires meant lots of people in harm's way.
Across from me on the jump seat, my friend Brian looked uptight, his gaze bouncing off mine every time I looked at him, like he'd been caught staring at me or something. Not sure what his deal was today. Next to him, Jordy met my gaze with a hard look and a slight sneer. I hadn't gotten the cold shoulder so much as pure ice from him since I came out a month ago as bisexual and dating Dell Murphy, a Cal Fire pilot. Jordy used to be a friend. Now looking at him made me ashamed I'd ever been an asshole like that to a gay person. And, yeah, sometimes I wanted to punch that disgust off his face.
To distract myself, I turned to Liam Greene, who sat on my right. "What's up, man? You're not sweating about the fire, are you?" I nudged his shoulder. Liam had been quiet since we left the station, and his face was pale.
He shook his head. "Nah. Apartment fires were the norm in New Jersey. No biggie." Liam had transferred to us from the East Coast about nine months ago.
"Ah. I keep forgetting you're a city boy. Maybe you should lead the charge today," I teased.
Liam gave me a half-hearted smile back. "Sure." His gaze skittered off Jordy and Brian and went distant again.
So Liam didn't want to talk either. I wondered what had crawled up everyone's butt this morning. Me, I liked to keep myself distracted on the way to a fire. Kept me from dwelling on things. You couldn't think too much about heading into the shit or it could throw you off. I just wanted to go where directed and do whatever needed to be done in the moment to protect my team members and put out the beast. Overthinking made that harder.
I turned to my brother, Mike, who sat on my other side. "Sunday's coming up, huh?"
Mike's face got a fond expression. "Yeah. Looking forward to it."
I knew Mike was thinking about his boyfriend, Shane, who'd no doubt come over. And my boyfriend, Dell, would be there too. We'd hang out and watch football—the Canali family tradition for our Sunday get-togethers. My own face no doubt got a sappy look at that thought.
"Who's playing?" I asked.
"Dolphins versus Broncos. Should be good."
"Cool. Hope Ma makes meatballs."
"Tell her Dell loves them and she will." He grinned. "Oh, yeah, she said Uncle Ricky promised to be there."
"About time. Haven't seen him for two weeks. What's up with that?" I thought I knew though. Uncle Ricky hadn't hung around the family compound much since he'd told me and Pa he was gay. I hadn't told anyone else in the family, figuring it was up to Uncle Ricky to do it. But he'd better get over himself soon.
Mike shrugged. "Guess he's been busy. He's still butt-hurt about his new partner. It must suck to have to work that closely with someone you don't like. In those cop shows, they're always stuck in the car together for hours."
I shrugged. "Not sure Uncle Ricky spends that much time in stakeouts as a Homicide detective. That's just the movies. Anyway, that's no excuse for ditching out on the family."
My baby-faced brother rolled his eyes. "Hey, give him shit, not me."
"I will."
The slowing of the engine told me we'd arrived. As soon as the truck stopped, we piled out and stood with the guys from our station's second engine. The fire was in a big crappy-looking apartment complex called Forest Glen on the north end of Chico near the airport. The building was a long two-story stucco box in a dingy yellow color that had been white once upon a time. It was big enough to have three separate tunnel-like corridors and maybe a hundred apartments. A crowd of residents stood on the cement sidewalk out front, most of them still in pajamas, some crying and shivering on this overcast and chilly October morning. Black smoke rose up from the back of the building, though the fire wasn't visible on the front yet.
Shit. This was gonna be a bear.
It was early—not even 6 a.m. Mike and I had been on a 24-hour shift overnight, and we'd been woken by the alarm. Apartment fires this early were bad news. It meant people were probably still in there asleep. And this one was far enough along that it looked like the fire department hadn't exactly been alerted at the first whiffs of smoke either. Which meant the building's alarms had failed.
Our station chief, Chief Reiger, was a big barrel-chested guy in his fifties. He barked orders at us. "Listen up! We need to work this double-time. Two local engines are already working hoses in the back, so you guys'll be checking the apartments and doing evacuations. I want three teams, one for each entrance." He pointed toward the building. The three open corridors led to first-level apartments. At each one, a metal and cement staircase lead up to an identical second-floor corridor.
"Work the first floor, then the second. Take the door busters. Cops ordered evacuation with bullhorns, but we still gotta check. I want every door opened and every apartment cleared. Radio it in as you clear. I'll be checking off the list. Everyone got it?"
We all nodded. My blood zinged. Now that I had my marching orders, I was eager to get moving.
"Okay. Jordy, Liam, Donny—take the left." He pointed to the far-left corridor. Mike, Wallis, Brian—the middle one…." I left chief still giving assignments and turned to get a door buster from the truck. The FE or Forcible Entry tool, aka door buster, had a sledgehammer on one end and a thick fork end on the other for prying. It was kind of fun to bust down doors, though that wasn't the point. We needed to make sure there was no one left in that building.
When I stepped back off the engine, Jordy was waiting for me. "Hey, Donny, go with Mike's team, will ya? Wallis is coming with me."
"Chief made the assignments, numb nuts," I said.
"Yeah, but don't you wanna watch out for your baby bro?" Jordy wheedled. "Anyway, Wallis always works with me."
"This isn't fucking middle school. Get over it," I snapped, my temper flaring hot. Jordy had hardly said two words to me since I'd come out. Now he wouldn't even work a fire with me? That was not okay. This was our fucking job.
Mike and Brian were heading for the apartment building, but Wallis jogged up to me and Jordy. "Come on, Canali," said Wallis. "No big deal. I'm with Jordy. You're with Mike."
For fuck's sake. People's lives were in danger. Now was not the time to confront Jordy on his horse shit, but I promised myself I would later, back at the station.
"Whatever," I grumbled, but I hurried to catch up with Mike and Brian, putting on my SCBA mask. At least I'd be working with guys I liked and trusted.
We started on the first level, knocking on the door of apartment 200 and busting it down when we didn't get an answer. I used the sledgehammer end, aiming it at the deadbolt, and the wood gave way with a satisfying crunch.
"Fire department!" Mike called, moving past me and the wrecked door.
The apartment wasn't even smoky. Mike and Brian looked around the one-bedroom layout, checking closets and the bathroom, and were out again in twenty seconds. Mike radioed it in over the headset in our helmets. "Apartment 200 clear. Team two out."
After the next apartment, 201, I started working ahead. I moved on to bust down the next door while Mike and Brian searched the apartments, so that by the time they got to me, the next one was ready to clear. We moved faster that way.
We found two small dogs that took off as we opened the door. In another apartment, an elderly lady watched TV on full volume and had no idea what was going on. She promised to get dressed and go out front. She seemed perfectly capable, so Mike urged her to hurry, and we moved on.
It got smoky, then thick. We got an older couple out, and then a woman and her roommate who were both legally blind. Brian led them out to the street while Mike and I continued. That one stabbed me in the gut. Hadn't one of their neighbors thought to check on them? Ugh. People.
Toward the back of the corridor, around apartment 230, we encountered fire. We managed to break in and do a quick search on a few more apartments, Mike ducking around the flames, but we couldn't make it to the rear of the building. Mike radioed it in and we double-timed it to the front of the building and took the iron steps up. We were running out of time to check the upper level.
The second floor was worse. The smoke was thick as cotton candy up here, black, and probably toxic from the asbestos or whatever other materials were burning. Thank God for our SCBA masks. The first half-dozen apartments were empty of people, but Mike found a cat and a hamster cage we moved out to the corridor to pick up on our way back. Then he found a teen-aged boy unconscious in his bed, victim of smoke inhalation. I was the biggest, so I put him over my shoulder in a fireman's carry and took him out to the corridor through the thick smoke, down the stairs, heading for the ambulances parked near the fire engines. A couple of paramedics rushed toward me and swept him away.
I stood there for a moment so I could take off my mask and catch my breath, watching after the boy as the paramedics put him in an ambulance. My gut twisted. I hoped he'd be okay. The idea that he would have remained in that bed, unconscious, while the fire consumed him, sent a thrill of relief, pride, and gratitude through me for what we did.
God bless Cal Fire for existing and paying me to do this work.
I put my mask on and hurried back to my team.
It was one of those fires where there were so many things going on at once, you just moved as fast as you could, did what you could, and focused on what was right in front of you. After I delivered the teen to the paramedics, we cleared a few more apartments, and Brian took a resistant older man—who reminded me a little of Shane's Pops—out front. But it was getting too dangerous. I knew Mike and Brian would both risk their lives to make sure all the apartments were evacuated. And me too. But I couldn't lose Mike. I was more protective of him than myself.
When I busted open the next door and saw everything in flames, I put a hand on Mike's arm and spoke over our SCBA helmets. "Can't go any further. If anyone's left in these last few apartments, they're already gone. Come on."
Mike reluctantly nodded and radioed it in as we started back down the corridor toward the front of the building. Reiger came on over the headset and said he'd gotten the message and that they could use some help at the end of the building, so me, Mike, and Brian headed over to the last corridor to work with Rebecca, Bean, and Dwayne.
All told, we were at the scene a little over an hour. When the end of the building was cleared, we walked back to the engines. As we crossed an old basketball court, I could see something was wrong. Wallis was leaning against the side of engine one, hands on his knees, head hanging down. Reiger was tense and red in the face, talking to Jordy.
I ripped off my SCBA mask. "What happened?" I asked as we walked up.
Wallis looked up, his eyes red. "It's Liam."
"What about Liam?" A nauseous wave of dread swept through me. "Is he okay?"
Wallis shook his head, but I wasn't sure what that meant.
I stalked over to Jordy. "Where the fuck is Liam? Did you leave him behind?"
Jordy straightened his spine and scowled at me. "Back off, Canali! You think we wouldn't have gotten him out if we could?"
"Then where the fuck is he?" I shouted back.
"Shut it, both of you!" barked Reiger. He turned to the team. "Gridley engine one and two, you'll move around back to the first entrance and lay down water on the upper-floor apartments, pronto. We have a man in there."
"Yes, Chief!" Bean, the engine-two driver, jumped up into the engine, and our engine driver, Dwayne, did the same.
Reiger looked at the rest of us. "I want four of you to go with the engines and work the hoses in the back. Three will go in from the front with extinguishers. Liam was last seen around 183, at the back of the first corridor, second floor. Focus everything we have there."
"I'm going in!" I said.
"Me too," said Jordy and Mike, at the same time. Jordy shouldered me aside as he went to grab extinguishers from the engine. I followed to grab a few myself.
It was bad. The whole back of that first corridor was an inferno. It took a good half hour working from both sides for us to put out enough of the fire to get into 183.
We were too late.