Ember's Beacon

These good fellows don't belong to me but I promise when I'm done to pick um up, dust um off and with a kiss on the cheek return them safely home.

If you suppress grief too much, it can well redouble. ~Moliere

Chapter 1

Working twenty four hour shifts certainly had its advantages but there was always that day when things just seemed to accumulate until they can't be put off any longer. To finally have a day off in between extra work shifts was rapidly evolving into twenty four hours of utter chaos for Johnny Gage. Snatching the 'to do' list off the refrigerator he unceremoniously shoved it into his blue jeans pocket before beginning the fishing expedition through the sofa cushions in hopes of finding the keys that he had in his hands only minutes before.

"Damn it," he grumbled as he snatched back his hand to find a bleeding finger that had managed to locate that sewing needle he had lost the week before.

Sticking the wounded appendage into his mouth he moved to the mantle next finally locating the keys just as the phone started ringing.

"Ughhh," he growled with escalating frustration as he ran to grab it before it stopped ringing.

"Hello?"

"Hey Johnny."

Quietly letting out a deep sigh he dropped his shoulders and slid his keys on the table as he pulled out a chair to sit on.

"Hey Mack, how ya doing?" Any evidence of frustration left his tone immediately.

"It's um; it's been a hard day."

He could hear the pain in his friend's voice like the day it had happened.

"I'm really sorry Mack, is there anything I can do?"

"I just really need someone to talk to."

Johnny thought of his list waiting in his pocket, the appointment he was almost late for, and how suddenly there was just not enough time in this one day.

"I can't talk right now but I can come by there this evening if that's okay," he said.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone. "Yea, that'd be great, thanks."

Johnny stood up and picked up his keys. "Okay, sounds good. See you around seven."

"Thanks man."

Hanging up the phone with a heavy heart he headed out the front door and to his Rover.

Running to a fast food joint for a burger and fries wasn't exactly what he wanted for lunch it was just the least time consuming option when he still had pressing issues that had to be dealt with. Working overtime had its plus's but this was one of those days that made him wonder what in the world had he been thinking when he kept saying yes.

"Johnny boy you gotta learn to start saying no sometimes," he mumbled as he shoved in another French fry.

The next stop of the day was ahead and he pulled into the auto shop and passed over the keys to the mechanic. While the Rover was getting some scheduled maintaince he walked down the street to the bank.

"Is Mr. Parsons in?" he asked the clerk at the front desk.

She looked up to him and smiled curtly. "And you are?"

"John Gage, we have an appointment for one."

She looked over the calendar then eyed him through the top of her narrow black frames. "Mr. Gage, I have you down for three o'clock."

He felt like pulling his hair out. "No, it was one. I'm sure it was one. I have something else planned for three today."

Snapping her pencil down on the desk her smile changed to a shade of perturbed. "I'm very sorry Mr. Gage. You are welcome to cancel your appointment of course."

Gritting his teeth he took a deep breath forcing him to relax and speak patiently. "It took me a month to get this appointment. I can't wait another month." He let out another breath and his shoulders slumped. "I guess I'll keep it."

She smiled smugly, her eyes glistening with control. "Then we will see you back in a couple of hours then." Dismissing him she went back to work without saying anything further.

With annoyance and exasperation he walked back down to the auto shop.

"Hey Les, how's it look?" He looked at the grease covered older man who tugged on his beard. It wasn't a look he wanted to see. "Oh come on." He shoved his hands on his hips. "Please Les, I need some good news today."

The older man shook his head. "Sorry pal, looks like that transmission needs some work."

Johnny shook his head as he closed his eyes. "How much more mileage can I get out of it?"

Les tossed the wrench into the toolbox on the floor. "Not much and frankly the sooner you get this taken care of the more likely we can save this engine."

He almost laughed. "Sure, why not. You got it on the rack already so just do what you need to do."

The mechanic nodded. "Okay, I'll have it ready for you by five."

Johnny chuckled. "Great, thanks. Wouldn't happen to have a loaner I could borrow would you?"

"Sure. Just check the Mag in the office."

Sitting on the outside bench with his legs stretched out and feet crossed he waited patiently while scribbling on a cross word puzzle that was on the verge of ending up in the garbage can next to him. This was not the time for him to focus on a seven letter word for 'abundance of free time'.

The moment of solitude allowed his mind to wander to memories of that horrible night when a midnight alarm sent them to a traffic accident which involved a fellow firefighter and friend. Nightmares still haunted him of pulling out the dead bodies of Mack's wife and three year old son while harboring the lone grateful thought that they had died on impact and not suffered. He'd been friends with Mack since the fire academy and long before he ever knew that station 51 even existed. The last few weeks he'd watched his friend battle through recovering from his own injuries, burying his family, and dealing with the demons of being alone.

When the paperwork was complete and he had loaner keys in hand a quick look at his watch left him figuring he had just enough time to swing by and pay a bill, grab some groceries, return to the bank then pick up the Rover before heading over to Mack's house. However, the seven red lights, one out of the way detour and one full parking lot had him with only enough time to run straight to the bank in an effort to just get there in time.

Over three hours later, utterly drained, and feeling like he had been raked over the coals in an effort to secure his new loan he headed down the three blocks to get back to the car. The early sunset was an apt reminder of how quickly the day was getting away from him and his steps unconsciously quickened to make up for time he couldn't afford to lose at this point.

Pulling into the auto shop lot he was instantly greeted with a chain locked and effectively closed gate. Getting out of the car he shook the lock and called towards the shop for someone, anyone, knowing that Les had expected him to come back for the Rover. Another glance at his watched reminded him how late he was getting back and the fact that he was an hour past closing.

Now he was screwed and the ineffective kick at the gate did nothing for his foot. The night was closing on him quickly and he desperately needed to get back on the road as soon as possible. Finding a payphone was pretty easy, finding change proved more challenging. So, a few blocks, a gas station, and a payphone later he managed to reach Les who thankfully said he would head that way.

Les was a grateful sight when he finally pulled into the lot and quickly relinquished the prisoner. The next paranoid watch check told him he had just enough time to grab some groceries for the station since it was his turn to cook tomorrow before calling an end to the crazy day.

The small family market tucked into the worn down strip mall was his local favorite since moving to this part of town. It had somehow managed to maintain its personal quaintness despite the growing city that threatened to smother it out with big chain faceless stores full of every item you need except for a friendly smile and individual service.

"Hey there Mr. Ford," Johnny called out to the shop owner as he rushed through the front door.

"Evening Johnny. What's the hurry? Gotta fire to rush too?"

Mr. Ford was in his 70's; grey headed with a dry sense of humor that Johnny easily related to.

"I'll be in one tomorrow if I don't have the stuff to cook dinner." He grabbed a hand held basket and headed to the produce first.

Mr. Ford waved at him and chuckled to the cashier. "If he's cooking they're already in trouble."

Johnny tossed a bag of potatoes into his basket. "I heard that."

With a deep laugh the man left the front of the store and headed to his office. Johnny already had the menu planned out and knew exactly what he needed to grab so he easily moved from row to row. Skidding to a halt when he found the canned tomatoes section empty he wandered to the back of the store where he could hear Mr. Ford yelling at someone.

"Uh, Mr. Ford?" He peeked into the room to see the older man trying to push a large box onto the top shelf.

Johnny quickly set his basket down on the makeshift desk and rushed over to help him. "Here, let me help with that."

Once it was securely on the shelf Mr. Ford turned to him. "Thank you son. Indy's off today and didn't get the supplies put up before he left." He reached down for the next box which looked just as overloaded as the last one.

"No problem. Wouldn't happen to have any tomatoes in here would you?" Johnny said with a chuckle.

The older man crinkled up his face in thought as his eyes skirted through the room doing a minute inventory of all the assorted boxes. Without answering he walked over and reached up to pull down a box. Then, just as Johnny moved forward to offer his assistance again the shelf began to tip in their direction. Without warning, several loaded boxes proceeded to rain down on top of them.

With instinct Johnny lunged toward the man managing to push enough away from Mr. Ford's head as he heard the man grunt loud with exertion. What he couldn't stop was the rest of the inventory from falling on top of them in a rain of miscellaneous can goods and bottles. In that split second notice he simply did his best to keep the man from hitting the ground hard.

"Mr. Ford?" He called out as he worked at pushing boxes and littered nonperishables away from them. "Where are you hurting?"

The older man's eyes were wide with panic and his hand went to his chest. The color had drained from his face and beads of perspiration instantly formed along his hair line. Johnny's hand found his wrist to check a pulse then he turned back to the door.

"CARLOS?" he called loudly in to the store.

Within seconds the cashier, a young Hispanic man, burst through the door. "What happened? Mr. Ford?"

Johnny kept calm. "I need you to call the fire department right now. Tell them we need a squad and an ambulance. He's having chest pain."

Johnny didn't want to elaborate his concerns in front of the shaky patient but all the signs of pending heart attack screamed at him. Once Carlos disappeared he turned back to see what little color the man had disappear.

He spoke as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first few on his shirt. "You're going to be okay Mr. Ford. I need you to try and relax okay?"

Seeing him release his chest and go limp Johnny shook him and called out his name. Eliciting no response and with a quick check of his pulse his worst fear was realized. Pushing the scattered cans out of his way he found his markings and began chest compressions.

"Come on Mr. Ford," he began talking between cycles. "Don't do this to me now." He continued to compress and began mouth to mouth resuscitation. "Mrs. Ford won't let me hear the end of it and that means no more apple pie for us." Silently his head kept count as he waited to hear the sirens. "We discussed this just the other day you know, how much I love her apple pie and you try to avoid her lectures? You told me it was always better to let her have her way didn't you?"

A quick glance showed the wide eyed panic of Carlos at the doorway. "Close the store and stay up front to watch for them." He never missed a beat and continued his random conversation. "You know this day has been crazy already and I really need you to come back Paul. You know this place can't run without you." He was getting winded and got quiet for a moment to gratefully hear the distant sound of sirens.

"Here they come so don't make me look back okay? It's time to come back now and show us who the boss of this place is."

Within a couple of minutes he heard the sound of running footsteps through the store then with relief to see that reinforcements had arrived. Looking up he was grateful it was Dwyer and Brice knowing the man would be in good hands now. While putting on the leads for the monitor he quickly gave them a report on what had happened up to their arrival as he continued the compressions. A pause in CPR revealed V-fib. Following two defibrillated shocks and a round of medications his heart finally converted to a normal sinus rhythm.

Johnny rocked back on his heels with a sigh of relief and stayed until the ambulance arrived to make sure the man was safely on his way to Rampart. The next call was to his wife in which he offered calming words and information on how to get by his side. It was just as important to him that she find her husband and reach the hospital safely herself.

Rolling his tired and achy shoulders he stretched and was already beginning to feel where the tumbling boxes had pummeled him. Reaching down to pick up his basket of groceries he casually tossed a nearby can of tomatoes into it rolling his eyes at how a simple task had reached complications of epic proportion so fast.

Once he reached the front Carlos started ringing everything up and out of routine asked him.

"Did you find everything sir?"

Johnny almost chuckled then looked up to see the surprised look on the young man's face. "I think I found more than I bargained for."

The young man smiled back. "Mr. Ford, he would have died if you hadn't been here. What you did, it was amazing."

Johnny put the last item in the paper sack and looked up. "No. I just happen to be in the right place at the right time."

"Mr. Ford, he will be okay?"

"His vital signs were stable and Rampart will take good care of him."

That was enough for Carlos as he reached out to shake the medic's hand. "Thank you."

With two arms full of groceries Johnny headed out into the dark and now mostly abandoned parking lot to load up and get home. Closing the back door he heard his keys hit the ground and bent down to pick them up.

"What the hell?" He exclaimed with a loud groan as he looked at the flat rear tire.

With a quick look up to the dark sky, "Was this really necessary? Haven't I paid my dues for the day already?"

Knowing he had no other choice but to just get it done he pulled out the jack, tire iron and spare and proceeded to get to work. The process wasn't complicated and he had definitely done it more than once in his lifetime but now he was completely exhausted as the ordeal of the day seeped into his weary bones.

Putting everything back into the rear compartment he dragged himself into the seat and pulled onto the road. By now his brain was anesthetized and his shoulders were throbbing. The thought of getting home to a hot shower was the only thing on his mind. It was nearly ten o'clock by this point and his internal clock knew it was a work night and was urging him to his bed. Sleep had to be had soon or there would be hell to pay tomorrow for the lack of it.

Not even taking out the groceries from the Rover he hauled himself up the flight of stairs and straight to the waiting hot shower. When Mack popped back into this brain he slammed his hand on the shower wall and chastised himself for letting something so important slip his mind. Knowing it was probably too late to pay a visit he called the house before calling it a night. The fact that there was no answer didn't really surprise him because he knew that Mack was scheduled to work in the morning too. Making a mental note to call him from the station tomorrow he poured himself a glass of cold milk and headed to bed.

Within minutes he was sound asleep.

"So Johnny boy, how did your date go this weekend?" Chet asked as he tied his shoes in the locker room.

Johnny scoffed. "Date, I've not had time for a date in two weeks."

Chet rested his elbow on the leg propped up by a bench. "Busy? What could you possibly have to do on your days off to keep you busy? Single guy, no kids to chase, no wife to entertain? I mean who could ask for more than that?"

"I resent that remark," Roy muttered from the sink.

Chet tossed him a waved hand. "You don't count Roy."

Roy turned around with a puzzled look and started to speak before Johnny jumped in.

"Look Chet. I may not be married but I have obligations too you know. Besides, yesterday was," he shook his head, "insane. I can't even begin to tell you all the craziness I had to dodge just to get home in one piece."

"Yea, yea, sure," he muttered as the tones sounded.

HOUSE FIRE WITH EXPLOSION…..412 WATERSIDE DRIVE…..TIME OUT 0802

Johnny grabbed his turnout and ran to the squad as the announcement repeated and Cap wrote down the information. Jumping into the passenger seat he turned a shocked head to Roy.

"What?"

Johnny felt frozen in place. "Roy, that's Mack's place."

"Is he working today?"

"Yea, thank goodness." Even knowing Mack was at his own station today didn't quell the rising sense of alarm in his stomach.

By the time they arrived at the scene the downstairs and attached garage was engulfed in flames. Station 110 had already arrived and had hoses going to attempt to gain enough control to enter the house and search it.

The crew quickly donned their gear and waited for directions as to how to proceed while Hank got report from the Captain first on scene.

"Anyone in there?" Hank asked.

"I don't know Hank. This is Mack Peterson's house and I've put in a call to his station to see if he's at work."

Hank frowned at the possibility of a fellow firefighter in that inferno causing his instincts to be heightened beyond normal.

Another lineman ran up to them. "Cap, 86 says he was scheduled for today but never showed up. They got no answer at the house this morning."

Johnny's stomach sank to his knees just as another explosion came from the garage sending the large door falling to the ground.

"Cap, that's his car!" Johnny exclaimed as he pointed at the white sedan that peaked out through the flames.

As soon as he said the words their feet were moving knowing the sick knot in his stomach was screaming that something horrible had happened here. Hank directed his men to tackling the garage as the other crew tried to gain access into the front door. As soon as entry into the garage was possible Roy and Johnny ran straight to the car only to find the doors locked and the interior full of black smoke. Circling it Johnny saw the rear window had been blown out and the car was charred. Roy urgently scanned the floor around him and grabbed the pry bar that was visible out of a bucket of random tools and smashed the back windows so he could reach in and unlock the driver's door.

It was painfully obvious they were too late and nothing could be done to save the man and as Johnny took steps backward he began shaking his head knowing where the puzzle pieces would lead.

"No," he shuttered.

Roy knew it too as the thick smell of carbon dioxide poured out towards them, the locked doors, the open gas cans littered on the floor of the garage. He also knew now wasn't the time to debate the details.

"Johnny, we got to get this fire out."

Grabbing his partner by the elbow they left the garage and met Hank in the driveway. The quiet shake of their heads instantly told of the heartbreak that had unfolded before them. With a few directions the medic's split up and re-joined the battle to bring the raging beast under control, leaving doubts and questions tucked away for another time.

When it was all said and done the house was a complete loss. No one had the willpower to say that the house seemed to cry out that it had already lost its heart anyway. The word spread quickly through the crews on scene and the cleanup was quiet with an undercurrent of resentment that one family could experience so much tragedy.

Pulling into the station Johnny and Roy had traveled the way back home without any words spoken. Roy knew the man through work but it was Johnny who had known him better than any of them and called him friend. He was a friend of the family and had even been there when Sarah had delivered her baby a few years ago. The silence from his friend was expected as the loss of a firefighter always hit very close to home, no matter what the reason was. Roy knew though that Johnny needed time to deal with it in his own way and when he was ready he would look for him to vent the frustration, anger, and grief. Until then Roy would wait and be patient.

The rest of the shift went quietly as the lingering feeling of mourning hung in the air like a thick morning fog that resisted in releasing them. Johnny didn't know what was worse, being out on calls and trying to pretend like everything was okay or sitting at the station where all you could do was think. Neither was working today and the image burned in his memory of Mack locked in a car waiting to die tore at him until he thought he couldn't hold it together.

As if he had ESP Roy would manage to wander through right at that moment and just share a look of understanding with him allowing him to rein it back in for just a little longer. At least until the next lull allowed the images to creep back in and consume him.

The hard part now was telling Roy what he had done and his part in Mack's death.

Soaking up the hot California sun on his face he leaned against his Rover, eyes closed, and worked at replacing that horrible image with a memory that seemed just like yesterday. Piece by piece he pulled up the birth of Turner and how the race to the hospital had involved two cars, one bus, four police officers and a fire truck. Like something out of a movie he smiled at the vision of a glassy eyed new father who somehow managed to beat his wife to the labor room and thought he had missed the whole thing. They were good memories that struggled to keep the overwhelming loss to the edges.

"Johnny?"

He opened his eyes to see Roy looking at him with his predictable worried frown. "I was remembering the day Turner was born."

Roy smiled back. "That should have been filmed. It would have made a great TV comedy episode."

Johnny's smile faded. "I should have been there this time too."

Shaking his head, "There wasn't anything you could have done. Everyone thought he was at work."

Standing up he shook his head stronger. "This was my fault Roy. I should have been there to talk him out of it."

Roy stepped forward now with concern on his face. "Johnny, you can't take responsibility for what another man decides, especially something like this. It's a tragedy. More like one right after the other but we're not responsible for any of it."

He ran his hand through his hair. "He's called me so much over the last few weeks. We did dinners out, watched games, had late night beers, played pool, darts and anything else that would let him have a single moment of peace from what happened that night."

"That's right, you were there for him."

Johnny's voice turned harsh. "It wasn't enough! He called me yesterday Roy and begged me to come over because he needed to talk. I was going to go then," he flung his hands in the air, "everything went to hell, late appointments, heart attacks, flat tires. By the time I got home it was so late I decided to just call him. He didn't answer." He began pacing in front of the cars. "I should have known then something was wrong."

Roy stepped up and grabbed his arm. "Listen to me Johnny, you did all you could. You were there when no one else had the time. There's no way you could have known that call was any different than the ones before." Feeling like he wasn't getting through he raised his own voice. "This was not your fault!"

Johnny pulled his arm away. "That's easy for you to say he didn't call you for help. I should have gone. I should have been there Roy and now it's something that I have to live with."

As Roy watched his friend walk away reeling with a personal pain he knew that Johnny would need time to recover. He only hoped that he could convince him that sometimes even being a best friend just isn't enough to save someone.