He coughed horribly, and the kitchen fire extinguisher he held banged against the doorframe.
“Is there anyone else here?” I demanded.
He looked at me, dazed and confused. I doubted he recognized me, not with the breathing apparatus altering my voice and my turnout gear covering me from head to toe.
“Mr. Campbell, are you alone in the house?”
“I…I tried to stop it.” He looked down at the fire extinguisher. His hand was raw and red. Burnt. Shit.
Into my radio, I said, “Engine 2 requesting bus at 501 Meadow Lane. Resident needs medical.”
My gut fell, hoping Maisey wasn’t in the ER today, hoping she wouldn’t hear the callout, but even more, hoping she wasn’t inside.
Instead of wasting time moving Lewis off the porch and away from the house, I raced inside, chest tight and breathing shallow. I ached to head straight for the bedrooms, but I forced myself to rely on my training, clearing the rooms one by one from front to back.
When I got to the kitchen, the fire danced a vicious beat. It had already melted plastic, ripped through wood, and was working its way along the wall Maisey’s room shared with the kitchen. My heart nearly exploded with fear as the blaze crawled through the wood and Sheetrock, a beast eating its way through its prey.
In my headset, I heard Tejas say the fire had taken the porch on the Charlie side. He was knocking it down with his handheld. Behind me, Kasey and Leon filed into the house, dragging the pipe across the hardwood with Kasey at the tip.
I shoved several burning dinette chairs out of my way, storming toward the hallway and calling Maisey’s name. The words echoed eerily in my mask.
I slammed the door of Maisey’s bedroom open, scanned the interior, and felt the pain and pressure in my chest ease slightly. No one. The room was empty except for the fire licking through the hole it had formed in the wall. I turned, clearing the bathroom she’d shared as a kid with her sister before opening Chelsea’s room.
But that room was empty too. Not only empty of people but stripped clean. Nothing on the walls, nothing in the closet. Just a bed with an ancientmattress and a dresser with the drawers open.
Thank God.
Thank fucking God.
Maisey wasn’t here.
I sprinted back to the kitchen, mind clearing so I could focus on the work. Tejas had doused the porch and busted through the back door, taking the blaze from the rear. Kasey was attacking from the front. I took over the tip and ordered Leon to return to Mr. Campbell and assess his injuries while we waited for the EMTs to arrive.
It took less time to put the fire out than it had taken us to get there.
Less time than it had taken for me to panic and clear the house.
I gave the command to kill the water and then stood there for a brief second, assessing the disaster.
The kitchen was gutted—nothing salvageable—and a hole now tore through the wall to Maisey’s old room. Even from this angle, I could see her bed had been torched, and the dresser was black with streaks.
Fuck.
But it hadn’t spread to the rest of the house. It hadn’t spread to mine next door.
“Engine 2. Structure fire under control,” I said into the radio.
What the hell had happened?
I handed over the overhaul to Tejas and Kasey and stepped outside.
A bus had arrived, and Bugsy, the lead EMT for the ambulance company, had Mr. Campbell sitting in a peeling old chair on the porch while she wrapped his hand.
I ripped off my lid and SCBA before squatting next to him. “Mr. Campbell, have you called Maisey? Does she know about the fire?”
His eyes were glossy and distant when he looked at me. “Maisey is at school. She’s at school. But Chelsea.” He shook his head. “She left again. Not coming back this time.” He looked at the dark-haired Bugsy working on his hand and said, “I miss my girls. Marjorie, tell the girls I miss them, okay?”
My stomach sank at his mixed-up jumble of words.