Separated: 5SOS BSM

86. You're A First Responder - Calum

Part 1/4

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HI KAY! I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!

Continuing the countdown: 4️⃣ Chapters Left

Calum:
"It's been a quiet night," you yawned a little and looked at the clock mounted on the edge of the kitchen on the firehouse.

"That's a good thing isn't it?" Your fellow firefighter, Hunter asked, looking up from her laptop.

While you had been trying, and failing, to nap, Hunter had resigned to her own insomnia and had been messing around on the internet while waiting for the next call to come through. You glanced over at her and shrugged, "yeah that's true."

"Well you've both jinxed it now," Caitlin groaned, walking in with a slice of pizza. You were pretty surprised to see that she had somehow managed to find herself food given she was supposedly organizing the supplies in the truck.

"DO I SMELL PIZZA?!" Jaz sat up straight in her bunk right above yours.

"I don't know do you?" Caitlin giggled, "Just kidding, I'm eating pizza."

"What? Where'd you get pizza?" Kim demanded, also looking out of her bunk.

"Errrrrr, that's a kind of difficult question to answer..." Caitlin trailed off, glancing down at her shoes to avoid eye contact.

"Mhmmmm," you narrowed your eyes. The smell was making you realize just how hungry you were.

"Hey now, you're not getting off that easy missy. I demand answers-"

Caitlin was saved by the bell, or more accurately the fire alarm. Your department, as all firefighters were, was well trained as to what to do when the bell rang. You all dropped whatever you were holding and quickly ran down to suit up. Caitlin put her pizza on the counter, Hunter left her laptop on the table, and Kim's phone was placed in her bunk.

It was a silent and very efficient operation while you all quickly pulled on your pants, coats, hats and boots. Oxygen tanks, masks, and gloves were grabbed and then you all ran to the truck.

"Ready girls?" You asked while buckling yourself in the front seat.

"Yes," they all answered back, strapping themselves in as well.

You started the truck and hit the button to turn on the loud sirens. It was very very late, and there wasn't much traffic while you backed out of the station and onto the main road.

"Fire in the residential area, address is 12345 Summer Street," the dispatchers voice rang through the radio.

"We are on our way," Kim, who was sitting up front next to you, answered them.

"Estimated time of arrival?" The dispatcher asked.

"Two minutes," you answered this time, pressing your foot even further down on the gas pedal.

Any other cars on the dark road got out of the way quickly while you sped by, ignoring the stop signs and traffic lights.