On Fire - Deelylah Mullin Read online

  Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.

  This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Paige Tyler. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Dallas Fire & Rescue remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Paige Tyler, or their affiliates or licensors.

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  On Fire!

  A Dallas Fire & Rescue Novella

  by Deelylah Mullin

  Table of Contents

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  DEDICATION

  For Mom and Dad—who taught me to be that selfless parent.

  For Oldest, Middle, and Youngest—who let me be the selfless parent.

  And, for Mr. VampBard. Always.

  CHAPTER ONE

  The siren blared and the dispatcher’s voice came over the speaker in station eleven of Dallas Fire and Rescue. Two-car accident westbound US 35 East near Inwood. Requesting fire and rescue units. Ambulance en route. Police at the scene.

  Reed Stephens stood from the cafeteria-style table, abandoning the egg sandwich and orange he’d plated for a late breakfast. With his heart beating rapidly in his chest—like it did every time a call came in—he closed the space to the pole down to the main floor of the firehouse in four long strides.

  He paused, waiting for his partner, Elias Martin, to reach the bottom before Reed wrapped his arms and legs around the pole and dropped. He stuck the landing instead of falling on his ass, like he did sometimes.

  Wholly focused on gearing up and getting to the rescue rig, he donned the heavy pants and jacket hanging on the labeled hook for his protective clothing.

  As Reed approached the bright red truck—on the passenger side—Elias turned over the motor. He was double-checking mirrors, buttons, switches, and knobs when Reed clicked his seat belt and then shut the door.

  “Let’s roll,” Reed said without fanfare.

  Elias navigated the truck—with sirens blaring and lights flashing—onto the street. The two were silent, as they always were, on the way to a call.

  They followed the tanker onto the I-35 and slowed as they approached the Inwood Road on-ramp. At the point where one lane merged into another, three vehicles stood like silent sentinels. The semi had a dinged fender on the right front, a pickup truck had a few creases in the left side. Between them both, the sight of a silver four-door car—crushed on both sides like an aluminum can—sucked the air from Reed’s lungs. Shit. That looks bad.

  Police were re-routing traffic to avoid the site, but it was slow moving. Rubbernecking gawkers—the kind of people that absolutely rubbed Reed the wrong way—craned to take in the accident. Some had their cell phones out, capturing the incident for posterity—or to possibly post a macabre sentiment on social media.

  Elias tucked the rig in behind the tanker along the shoulder, well ahead of the scene. The two exited the vehicle and grabbed the gear bags they thought most appropriate—neck injury, lacerations, maybe a fractured extremity—were most likely in this situation. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be more, and hopefully the paramedics arrived before much had to be done.

  Brothers from the other truck pulled out extraction tools and jogged to the scene. Fractured glass sparkled on the pavement like diamonds in the morning Dallas sun. It might’ve been pretty if Reed hadn’t been singly focused on reaching the crunched car.

  Elias split from him and curved around to the passenger side of the vehicle. Reed dropped his parcels and approached the hunk of twisted metal. Spider webbed cracks in the glass of the windshield and front door obscured his view of those trapped inside. He could make out emptiness where the back window used to be on the driver’s side.

  “Reed—there’s two inside. Adult female, late twenties, early thirties—probably has multiple lacerations, but seems to be okay. Male child in back seat, unconscious. We’ve got equipment coming from the other truck to get this can opened.” Rob Little was a lieutenant on the police force; Reed had run into him multiple times during his tenure with Dallas Fire and Rescue. Seemed like a nice guy, knew what he was doing.

  “Thanks, Little,” Reed said as his boots crunched on the glass-littered asphalt.

  Then, he heard it. The heart-wrenching sobs and murmured apologies of the female occupant. “Elliott, I’m so sorry. Wake up for Mommy. I can’t lose you, too.”

  He stopped in his tracks and pulled himself together. Keep it together, Stephens. Just another call. Nothing like training—they would’ve warned you. During his internship over at Station 58, he’d been on a similar call—except the mother was dead. Impaled by a rogue metal rod from the back of a semi. The child in the back had been unconscious and hung on in a coma for several days. The bar that had killed her mother had crushed part of her skull. Dane Chambers, his partner that day, had reassured him there was nothing he could’ve done, and that these were the first in what would likely be a string of vehicular deaths he’d come across during his career.

  Reed pulled off his hat as he used a gloved hand to remove jagged safety glass from the window before sticking his head inside.

  “Ma’am. I’m Reed Stephens of Dallas Fire and Rescue. I’m here to help get you and your boy out of here.”

  “Thank god. Elliott won’t answer and I can’t”—she tried to twist in her seat—“turn to see if he’s okay.”

  The car rocked gently as Elias tugged on the back passenger door. It didn’t budge.

  “We’re getting some equipment, but fortunately this window was broken out. I’m just going to climb inside and we’ll make sure everything is fine.” Reed could see the child’s chest rising and falling within the car seat harness. “What’s your name, ma’am?”

  “Harper. My son is Elliott—he’s my…everything.” The pain in her voice was evident.

  Reed wriggled into the car, wearing his protective gear.

  “Reed? What the hell are you doing?” Elias said from outside, his face nearly pressed against the window.

  “Harper? That’s a really pretty name. I’m in the car, now. Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine. Maybe a little bruised up and I’m wedged in here pretty tight,” she said.

  He took a look into the driver’s area. The door was smashed in, meeting the steering wheel. The seat was twisted and bent toward the door, but the woman appeared to be okay. “You sit tight—I’m just going to give Elliott a once-over. That okay with you?”

  She was quick to respond, “Oh, yes. Do whatever you need to.” She continued to wiggle in her seat.

  “Harper, it’s probably a good idea if you sit still. Just in case you’re injured and the adrenaline is blocking pain right now.”

  She stilled. “I’m just worried—”

  “I know you are. I’ve got this, though. I’ll talk you through everything I’m doing.” He pulled off one heavy, protective glove and checked the boy’s pulse. “Pulse is strong, maybe a little fast. Nothing to worry about though, considering.”

  He tugged on a black nitrile glove and peered at the child’s neck, behind his head, and gently probed several places on his trunk. “He’s not bleeding, so that’s good. He probably rattled his head around between the sides of the car seat a little too hard, is all.” Reed hoped he wasn’t wrong. “I’m going to put a C-collar around his neck until we can make sure there’s not anything damaged in there.”

  Harper sighed. “Okay. Should I have g
otten a different booster seat? If he hadn’t had the back part, would this have happened?”

  Reed shook his head, even though the woman couldn’t see him—the rear-view mirror swung from the fractured windshield like a macabre metronome, keeping time for their moments inside the car where the temperature gradually increased. “There’s nothing you could’ve done differently, unless you purposely got yourself sandwiched between two trucks.”

  She laughed at that, and the sound was musical to Reed. “Yeah. Because I thought it would be a great morning to sit on the highway in the car just watching traffic go by.”

  The boy moaned.

  “Elliott? Can you wake up for momma?”

  The boy tried to turn his head and a pinched expression crossed his face as a single, fat tear rolled down his cheek.

  “Hey, Elliott. Your mom wants you to open your eyes for me. Can you do that, bud?”

  Elliott tried to move again, but the brace prevented it. He frowned and another tear rolled down his cheek. His eyes fluttered open, then closed again.

  “Good job. Keep trying, okay? There’s a man that needs to get the door open to get you out of the car, so there’s going to be a loud noise soon. Stay as still as you can.” Reed noted the crowbar and the device they’d use to open up the vehicle in the hands of his co-workers standing just outside, waiting for Reed to have the occupants of the car protected.

  Harper was trapped in the front seat, and it would be best to remove Elliott in the car seat—it would keep his body as stable as possible in the event there were injuries they couldn’t see. They needed to crack open this car before the temperature got much higher. Reed had sweat trickling down his spine—his gear was heavy, but required. He’d deal with it.

  The ambulance arrived, siren blaring over the slow-moving traffic. When the mournful sound ended, Reed imagined it continuing until it faded into nothingness.

  “Okay. It’s time to get this show on the road. Elliott, I’m just going to unbuckle your car seat and move it toward the middle of the seat. Try not to move as much as you can, okay?”

  “Momma, are you okay?” The child’s voice was small, worried.

  “I’m fine. You do like Mr. Reed says and stay still.” Harper sounded like she’d forced cheerfulness through her words—probably to allay her son’s fears.

  With the booster seat in the middle of the back bench, Reed made eye contact with Elias who moved the team forward to open up the car.

  “There might be some loud noise and the car might rock. Don’t worry—that’s just the other firemen trying to get you out.”

  “Reed”—Officer Little tossed a blanket in the broken out window—“put this around him. Ambulance is ready, and we’re super close to Parkland. ER is on standby.”

  “Thanks,” he turned slightly toward the officer before focusing fully on Elliott. “I’m just going to put this around you.” He tucked the blanket behind the car seat and pulled it across the child’s body, holding it as well as the seat.

  Someone wedged a bar between the back door and the body of the car and it rocked. Metal groaned as Elias and the others worked to open the back passenger door.

  Fortunately, it budged and an EMT appeared in the open doorway. Reed could see a gurney just behind him.

  “Okay, these nice men are going to take you to the ambulance and we’re going to get your mom’s door open so she can join you,” Reed said.

  “But I want to wait for Momma. I don’t want to go by myself.” Reed could tell the child was on the verge of full-on tears.

  Harper said, “You go on, now. I’ll be there in just a few minutes. Maybe you can tell the paramedic about your new soccer cleats and ball.”

  Elliott’s face brightened, and he looked Reed square in the face. “They’re really cool. The shoes are bright blue with a sparkly yellow stripe—maybe I’ll be able to run as fast as lightning in them.”

  Reed chuckled. “I’ll bet you will. Now, I’m going to pick up this side of the seat and Mr. Charlie is going to get the other. We’re going to lay you on your back, in your car seat, on the bed. You cool with that, sport?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Charlie counted to three and they moved like a fluid unit until the child was out of the car. Someone else took the other side of the seat and Elias poked him in the ribs.

  “Good job with the kid. They have to use the Jaws to get mom out,” his partner said.

  Shit. “I’ll hop back in and try to keep Harper from moving too much.”

  “Why don’t you get a bottle of water and cool off. Your hair looks sweat-soaked.”

  Reed shook his head. “Plenty of time for that later.” He slid into the back seat again and watched as Jeremy Ryder, the other paramedic on the call, slid a C-collar around Harper’s slim throat.

  “Okay. They’re going to have to use some heavy equipment to get you out. They weren’t able to pry your door open with just a crow bar. We’re going to get your seat belt off, and this blanket around you.” His fingers brushed against her chin as he reached for the webbing and an electric shock pulsed through his body, straight to his groin.

  “But, it’s already hot in here.” She sounded tired.

  “Sparks might fly and we don’t want them to land on you.” He shifted his position as his cock grew semi-hard. This is definitely not the time. Down, boy.

  He heard the engine of the pneumatic equipment start and anticipation trickled through his system. This is what he lived for—getting people trapped in a vehicle out alive. Or, maybe clearing the way for someone to make it out of a fire.

  Harper grabbed his hand. “I need to get to my baby. I’m all he has.” She faced away from him, as she was trapped in a manner that prevented her from turning.

  Reed could tell she was beautiful—even though her hair was in disarray and she was distraught. The most important thing to him—in that moment—was to reunite Harper and Elliott as soon as possible.

  “We’ll have you out in a jiffy, ma’am. These Jaws will cut through anything and make it look like a hot wire through butter.”

  “That’s good. I really need to see—for myself—that Elliott is okay.”

  He heard the pincers of the hydraulic equipment screeching through the metal of the car’s frame. They went through the header of the back door to the roof. From there, they’d cut around the driver’s door, which would flop open—hopefully releasing the trapped woman.

  She squeezed his hand as the device sliced through the roof of the car. “That’s loud. I’m glad Elliott is out—this would scare him.”

  Reed silently agreed, but said, “He seems like a tough one, your boy. I’m sure he would’ve been fine.”

  He could see her cheek bunch up as she smiled. “You’re probably right. I’m a bit over-protective.”

  “It’s fine to be like that. Better than leaving him to his own devices and having him get in over his head.” He’d been on the scene when some kids—not much older than Elliott—had figured out how to use a box of matches in their garage. With gasoline-soaked rags. Their mother had been in the house, playing some game online, when the police arrived. The children survived, but one of them ended up requiring skin grafts because her burns had been so bad.

  The door fell to the pavement with a boom and the equipment went silent.

  “That didn’t take long at all,” Harper said.

  Reed released the blanket and started to wiggle out of the back seat. “You stay put. We’ll get you out of the car.”

  Before the last word was out of his mouth, Harper had swung her leg and her foot rested on the asphalt. “Oh. Okay. I’m fine, though.”

  Reed shook his head as he stepped around the remains of her door. “The paramedics and the doctors in the emergency room get to make that call, if you don’t mind.” He blocked the opening with his body until one of the EMTs arrived with another gurney.

  “Stephens—stick around. Charlie is with the boy,” Ryder said.

  “Elliott is okay, right?”
Harper’s voice was laced with worry, and she chewed her bottom lip.

  Why did Reed find that sexy as sin?

  “He’s fine, ma’am. Telling Charlie all about playing soccer.” Ryder grinned.

  Ryder gave Harper a once-over and reached in to help her out of the car.

  Reed’s gut twisted as he watched the other man’s fingers wrap around her upper arm. Reed felt his blood pressure skyrocket, and decided to take matters into his own hands.

  When she was standing next to the car, Reed said, “You think you can walk?”

  She nodded as much as she was able before saying, “Yeah. It’ll be nice to stretch my legs, and I’d feel silly on one of those.” She inclined her head toward the gurney.

  Reed wrapped his arm around her back, his fingers curled over her hip. This is nice. He guided her around the wreckage to the awaiting ambulance where she was reunited with her son.

  “Momma! I told Mr. Charlie all about playing soccer. He said he’s never seen a game. Can you believe it?”

  Reed saw a tear roll down Harper’s cheek before she wiped it away.

  “I’m absolutely shocked. Mr. Charlie, you should definitely come see Elliott play sometime.” Her brow creased as she picked up her foot and then winced.

  “Here.” Reed put his hands on either side of her waist. “Let me help you.” He steadied her and then lifted her up to the first step. Charlie reached out and Harper grabbed his hand to pull herself inside the vehicle.

  Once she was settled—and had quickly assured herself Elliott, now free from his car seat, was fine—she turned to Reed. “Thank you for everything.” Another tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away.

  “All in a day’s work, ma’am.” Reed grinned.

  “It’s Harper. I feel ancient when you call me ma’am.” When she smiled, her dark brown eyes crinkled at the corners and it seemed as though the sun shone from inside the boxy interior of the rig.

  “Well, I sincerely apologize for making you feel ancient, Harper. That wasn’t my intent.”