LOVE NEVER DIES

TWO

LARRY

The heat was intense, as you would expect.  Breathing was hard and labored through his oxygen mask, but he'd been trained to do this.  He was all garbed up, protected from the flames, the heat and smoke to the N'th degree.  He was fine. 

You're fine, just do your thing, like always.  Focus Larry, focus .  

Larry Grey was one of the best firefighters in the business.  Now a Captain of his own firehouse, he showed no fear.  Notice, showing no fear was still completely different from being fearless, he was always a little afraid, as one should be.  The very least a firefighter does, is respect the fire.  How white hot it could get, and how quickly it could get there.  How it could change it's character in a second.  How it could surround a person without them even knowing it.  

He'd had colleagues .... friends .... who had been the best in the business too, who lost focus for a split second.  And he hated how many funerals he had to get dressed up in his ceremonial uniform for, put on the hat with the gold band and the badge of honor, denoting his seniority.  Pulling on the white gloves, practicing his best and most honorable salute as the tears welled in his eyes.  How many times, because he was a Captain, he was a pallbearer for these brave men.  How he hated it.

"Are we clear, Captain ?" he heard the voice crackle in his ear.  "Is the ground floor clear ?"  

"Affirmative.  On my way out."  Larry was the last to leave the building, he always was.  He could just see his guys huddling the other side of the door, waiting for him.  Then, he thought he heard something, a small, whiny plaintive sound.  

"Hold on ... "

"Cap, she's coming down any minute, get the fuck outta there !"  Larry chuckled, 

"You know these conversations are recorded, right ?"

"Don't give a fuck .... Captain."  

The smoke was like thick black fog now, and he could barely see his hand in front of his face.  But he could hear whimpering, where was it coming from ?  He looked at the sticker that had appeared in front of him in the corner of a window by the door. 

--  If there is a fire, we have (1) dog in the house  --   Shit.

"Is there a dog out there  .... "

"Say again ?"  

"Has anyone retrieved a dog from the house ?"  There was an empty few seconds in his earpiece.  

Please say yes, please say yes  ....   

"Negative."  Shit !

"There's a dog in here, I can hear it."

"Larry .... "  Second in command was using his first name now, it must be serious.

"I can't leave it .... " 

"I'm sending someone in ... "

"Negative, I can hear it, so it's close, it's by the door.  Just keep the house up, OK ?"  Larry could see nothing now, but he was only a few feet from the door.  The whimpering got louder, so the dog was somewhere between him and safety, and safety wasn't that far away.  

Ten seconds, maybe twenty.  Thirty seconds that's all I need.  A minute would be great ...  

Larry was as good at his job as he was, because he could hear things, read things.  Not music or books, but other things that very few could.