9-1-1 ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ sʜᴏᴛs

Apartment fire - Evan Buckley

Zoe Buckley - 14

Evan Buckley had always known the risks that came with being a firefighter. He had faced countless blazes, rescued numerous victims, and survived more than a few close calls. But nothing had prepared him for the fear and urgency that gripped him when the danger hit so close to home.

It was a chilly November night, and Buck had just finished a grueling 24-hour shift at Station 118. Exhausted, he climbed the stairs to the apartment he shared with his 14-year-old daughter, Zoe. The hallway was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the building's heating system.

Opening the door, he was greeted by the familiar sight of their cozy living room. Zoe had left a light on for him, and a note on the kitchen counter caught his eye.

"Made you dinner, Dad. It's in the fridge. Love, Zoe."

A tired smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Zoe was thoughtful like that. She understood the demands of his job and always tried to make things a bit easier for him. Buck quietly opened her bedroom door, peeking in to see her sleeping soundly, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Relieved, he closed the door softly and headed to the kitchen.

He heated up the pasta Zoe had made, the aroma filling the small apartment. After eating, he showered and then collapsed into bed, the exhaustion of the day pulling him into a deep sleep almost immediately.

He was jolted awake hours later by the sound of the smoke detector blaring through the apartment. For a split second, he thought it was a dream—a residual echo from a recent call. But the acrid smell of smoke quickly dispelled that notion.

"Dad!" Zoe's panicked scream cut through the noise, snapping him fully awake.

Buck leaped out of bed, adrenaline surging through his veins. He rushed out of his bedroom and saw thick, black smoke pouring from under Zoe's door.

"Zoe!" he shouted, his voice hoarse with fear.

He ran to her door and threw it open, the heat hitting him like a physical force. Zoe was standing in the middle of the room, coughing and trying to wave the smoke away. The fire had already consumed part of her bed and was spreading rapidly.

"Dad!" she cried again, her eyes wide with terror.

Buck didn't hesitate. He grabbed a blanket from the floor and wrapped it around her, shielding her from the worst of the heat and flames. "Cover your mouth and stay low," he instructed, guiding her towards the door.

They made their way down the hallway, the smoke thickening with each passing second. Buck kept one arm around Zoe and used the other to feel their way forward, the air growing hotter and harder to breathe.

When they reached the living room, Buck realized the fire had spread faster than he'd anticipated. Flames licked at the walls and furniture, turning their cozy home into a deadly inferno.

"Stay close to me," Buck said, trying to keep his voice calm. "We're going to get out of here."

They moved towards the front door, but the fire had already cut off their escape route. Buck cursed under his breath, scanning the room for another way out. His eyes landed on the window—large enough for them to climb through, but they were three stories up.

Buck weighed their options quickly. The fire was closing in, and they didn't have much time. "Zoe, listen to me," he said, turning to face her. "We're going to go out the window. I'll go first and catch you, okay?"

Zoe nodded, her face pale with fear but her eyes showing her trust in him. Buck opened the window and looked down, gauging the distance. He knew it was risky, but it was their only chance.