Slow Burn | HS

ashes to ashes

January 2017

"Hold up, everybody," Liam commands. "I'm getting an update from the chief on the ground."

He pauses, paying close attention to what's being said to him via his personal radio. Linda, one of the few female firefighters in their unit, has the hose pointed at a fire that was quickly making its way down the hallway when they arrived. She has it controlled and no longer spreading, but the flames are stubbornly still raging. "There's a thirteen-year-old girl trapped in the southwest bedroom."

Harry looks at Liam, waiting for instruction. When he doesn't say anything else after a few seconds, Harry prompts, "How long has she been in there?" he asks.

Liam turns back to the radio piece, listening. "They're saying that the fire has been going for about twenty minutes. She's been in there the whole time."

Harry begins to step forward, looking at the compass built in the arm of his jacket. He has no time to try to figure out cardinal directions on his own in an unfamiliar setting, so he uses this tool frequently. When he figures out which direction he's supposed to go in, he automatically starts heading that way.

"Styles, wait," Liam cautions. "We have to assess the situation first. Most of the entrance area is littered with debris. The floor could give when you try to walk on it."

"Here's the situation, Liam," Harry says. "There's a young girl in that bedroom over there." He points to a door that has rubble and burnt wood partially blocking it. Some of the wreckage still glows orange, not flaming but still hot and dangerous. "She's been in there long enough to be suffering from oxygen deprivation due to smoke inhalation." His voice is firm, strong. "And I'm going to go get her."

Without another word, Harry makes his way toward the bedroom.

"Styles, wait!" Liam yells.

Harry starts kicking away the debris, using his hands to pick up and move what is too heavy to simply be kicked aside. His gloves provide protection from the hot objects. He has a safe path cleared. He's careful with his movements, testing his weight with each step before moving.

He pushes the door open, eyes scanning the room, not taking in the color of the walls or the duvet on the bed, only seeking to find the teen. He has to focus intently to see past the haze of smoke that fills the room.

He spots her, finally, curled up in a ball on the floor in the corner farthest from the door, as far away from possible from the flames and smoke. He's caught up in the moment, distracted for a second until Liam barks his name one last time, jarring him out of his stupor.

He moves swiftly toward the girl, afraid she's unconscious, looking for any sign of responsiveness. When he's about to grab her and swiftly take her outside to the AED to have CPR performed, she coughs. He's relieved, coughing means breathing and breathing means life.

She keeps coughing, desperately trying to get air into her lungs, and failing due to the lack of breathable air in the room. Harry needs to move swiftly to allow the best possible chance of recovery for this girl. He bends down and scoops her up, on arm under her back and one behind her knees. He tucks her to his chest, and she's pliant, too weak to fully hold her head up.

Swiftly, he heads toward the door. He's careful of all of her limbs and makes sure that none of them will hit any debris on their way out of the room. He can't make out the expression on Liam's face due to his mask as he passes him, but he knows Liam is anything but pleased with him.

Harry moves past Liam without hesitation, going to the front door and exiting the building. He carries the girl to the ambulance waiting a couple hundred feet away.
A woman cries out, hand clutched to her chest in a sob. "Erica!" she calls.