Flashover. Dana Mentink
fought to keep the truck’s speed under control.
Ivy.
Her name echoed in his mind and danced circles around his brain.
He knew before he heard the name. He knew when the battalion chief’s voice came over the radio, pitched high against adrenaline and the sound of a working fire. Firefighter down.
“God help her,” he whispered as he tore down the main road through a thickening haze of smoke. “Help her to hang on.”
If he had more time to process, the irony would be palpable. Was it just last night he’d decided to move on? Even looking up Marcie’s number to give her a call? Forget about Ivy, he’d told himself. You were a fool to think she’d open her heart to you after Antonio. She might never trust anyone again, especially God.
He clenched the steering wheel so hard his fingers cramped up. Not now. It wasn’t time to dredge up past history.
Even so, an image rose in his mind. Ivy’s short hair blowing in the breeze, green eyes alight with laughter as they rode mountain bikes together in the pre-Antonio days.
Ivy.
His heart thundered in his chest as the radio crackled to life again.
Life flight.
The dispatcher calmly repeated the message and confirmed.
They were calling for the helicopter.
He wasn’t a firefighter, but everyone connected to the business knew what it meant when they called for a helicopter.
And it wasn’t good.
Strange sensations flooded Ivy’s senses. She felt the bump of the gurney as she was rolled along, the shouted commands of firefighters amped on adrenaline, and then inexplicably, Tim was there. When had he arrived at the fire scene? He must have heard the call go out on the radio.
She wanted to tell him she was okay, to ease the terror written on his usually smiling face, but her mouth would not cooperate. He squeezed her arm with his strong fingers.
“It’s okay, Ivy. You’re going to make it through this.”
She felt her own fear ease slightly. She tried to hold his hand, but he was abruptly pulled away. He mouthed something she couldn’t hear as she was loaded onto a helicopter. The chopper blades cut through the air with rhythmic whopping sounds.
A familiar voice spoke up over the noise. Ivy’s eyes were closed, but she knew it was her cousin, Mitch. She could smell his cologne through the oxygen mask, over the odor of antiseptic and bandages the medics had applied. She was comforted knowing Mitch was the on-duty flight nurse. He was the best.
“Come on, V. Open up those green eyes. You can do it. Imagine we’re back in the country and I’m about to whip you at hide-and-seek. You never won once in our entire childhood, remember? And then there’s pinball. I can beat you with one hand tied behind my back. What do you say to that?”
Mitch Luzan’s face swam into view. Curly black hair, thick eyebrows, sardonic smile on his chubby face. Even though she was immobilized except for her arms, strapped from head to toe to a backboard, the sight of him brought her comfort.
“That’s ’cuz you cheat.” Her voice came out as a croak, muffled by the mask.
“Well, that’s better.” He used a small light to check her pupils. “Imagine getting a call to come and transport a victim and finding out it’s you. And to think I tried to get out of this shift.” He shook his head and checked her IV. “That was pretty dumb, letting yourself get buried. I thought they trained you hotshots how to prevent stuff like that. What happened to the big bad invincible Beria?”
She tried to answer but succumbed instead to a coughing fit. Pulling off the mask, she waved away his hands. “What’s broken?” she finally managed.
“Well, if I had to make a diagnosis right now I’d say we’re looking at collarbone and shoulder damage, a concussion, possible internal stuff and a burn or two.”
She grimaced at the list. “I’m fine. Just banged up.”
He leaned over to put on his helmet for the landing and zipped the jumpsuit, which strained to cover his stomach. “Tell you what, V. How about you let me be the flight nurse, because I am an excellent one after all, and you just work on doing the patient thing for a while? That will be a challenge for you, I know, Miss I Gotta Be in Charge of Everything.” He began to radio information to the hospital.
There was an edge to his voice. She looked closer and noticed dark shadows under his eyes. She hadn’t seen him for months even though they lived only two towns apart. He was closer to her than her brother, in some ways, until recently.
Ivy closed her eyes and sighed. She was too tired to ask where he’d been the past few months, in too much pain to wonder about the haggard cast to his face.
She tried to replay the accident but could only get to the point when her personal distress indicator went off. The guys must have pulled her out before the place went up. Or maybe they’d gotten the roof ventilated and knocked down the fire. Not knowing the details was killing her.
She strained her eyes to find Mitch and pump him for info, but he was busy prepping the equipment that would follow her into the hospital. As the helicopter roared in for a landing, she let herself sink back into darkness.
People moved in and out of her consciousness. Dressed in white or green scrubs, they checked every detail, cleaned every abrasion and treated her with tender care in spite of her exclamations of pain. Vaguely she was aware of a doctor peeling off his gloves and announcing that he would brief her colleagues waiting in the hallway. That brought her around.
She opened her eyes to find her shoulder strapped firmly to her body. When she tried to sit up, a lancing pain drove her back to the pillow. A shower of sparks danced across her vision. Gingerly she felt the bandage stuck to her forehead and another taped over the burn on her neck.
Battalion Chief Strong appeared, Jeff next to her. They were both sooty, tired, their faces lined with worry, turnouts streaked with black.
Jeff’s smile was huge as he grabbed her hand. “Man, Ivy. You scared me. I thought you were done for. That place was cooking.”
She tried to return the smile. “Did you pull me out?”
He nodded. “Eventually. I didn’t know you were gone until your alarm sounded as I headed out the front door. I went back in and the rescue crew followed me. We found you under a pile of junk. Took all three of us to get the stuff off you, and I was nearly out of air by that time.” His expression changed. “What happened anyway? I thought you were right behind me. I told you we were leaving. Didn’t you hear me?”
She coughed. “I stopped to check the last door.”
He frowned. “Ivy…”
Chief Strong touched his arm. “Jeff, go get me some water, will you? I feel like I swallowed a sock.”
Jeff gave Ivy a nervous look and squeezed her hand before he left. “I’ll tell the rest of the guys you’re okay.”
Strong waited until he was gone before she sat heavily in a chair. Her hair was plastered against her head where her helmet had weighted it down. She smelled of smoke. “I’m glad you’re going to be okay.”
Ivy saw the warring emotions on the woman’s face and knew there was more coming. “Thanks, Chief. Was anybody else hurt?”
She pursed her lips. “No, and that’s a lucky thing, isn’t it?”
Ivy swallowed. “Sure.”
“Did it occur to you when you disobeyed my orders to evacuate that you were being reckless and stupid?”
Ivy bridled. “I was doing my job. I didn’t hang out in there to have a party or