Hello to you all. I kind of started writing this one in my head when I was filling up at a local gas station and the gas tanker was filling the station's underground tanks. This is the result of that muse. I hope everyone likes it. It is a continuation of my "Terror at (of) the…" series. Please read and review.

I own nothing, although, Mike and Johnny are definitely on my wish list.

From the POV of Mike

Being a firefighter has many effects on you in life outside the fire station. Like how, you may ask? Well, for one thing, it trains you to be a light sleeper. I mean, it would be a bad thing to sleep through a klaxon going off, now wouldn't it? I did it once, when I first started as a probie, or a boot. Being woken up by three seasoned firefighters is not something you want to experience. So, I never did that again, at the station. But, once you are home, safe in your own bed, sometimes quiet noises that sound like the tones will have you bolting straight up in bed. When it wakes your wife up, you had better watch out. Many is the time I have ended up sleeping on the couch because of it.

Another thing is that you tend to rush through meals when you are back home. When you work at a fire station you tend to shovel the food in while praying that the tones don't go off until you are able to finish your meal. At home, my wife, Beth, is constantly getting on me about my eating habits, especially in front of our four year old son, Matty. She doesn't want me to teach him any bad habits at the dinner table. So, I have to constantly work on slowly eating and enjoying my meal when I am away from the firehouse.

Anything else, you may be asking? Well, you can never really take the firefighter out of the man when he is off duty. You tend to notice things that normal citizens would never catch. An example of this is something that happened a couple of months ago when I was just getting off duty.

It had been a long shift, both for the engine and squad. I don't think we spent more than four to five hours at the station total the whole day. We were cramming food at any chance we could get, our chores never got done and paperwork kept piling up. When our shift ended, I think all six of us, Cap included, bolted for the door.

I was heading home to get a nap and spend time with my wife and son when I realized that my truck's gas light had come on. So I pulled into the next gas station that I came to. There were a few vehicles there besides mine, plus the gas tanker was filling up the station's tanks underground. I was filling up when I noticed the driver of the tanker reach for something in his shirt pocket.

I watched in horror as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a matchbook. I finished filling my truck up and replaced the nozzle to the pump. I yelled over to him that he needed to be careful, that he could catch the tanker and station on fire. I believe he laughed at me.

I decided to run in and pay for my gas and if he was still smoking, I was going to say something stronger to him. I wish to God now that I had gone over there first, but hindsight is 20/20.

I was waiting in line to pay when I noticed the driver of the tanker running from his truck. It struck me as odd. Then I noticed a stream of orange flowing to the opening of the underground tanks from one of the pumps. No, it couldn't be.

But it was. The idiot driver had lit his cigarette then flicked his match to the ground. Unfortunately, he had thrown it into some gasoline that had somehow leaked from a nozzle.

Needless to say, I had taken all this in within a second. Seeing the fire heading to the open underground tank, I knew what I had to do.

I started yelling for everyone to get out of the store immediately, that there was a fire outside. The owner of the station came out of his office and when he saw what I was talking about, he ran back to his office to call the fire department. I pulled a hose from the side of the station and began to water down the area as best as I could.

I watched the owner, his employees and patrons running outside and away from the station. That was when I noticed the fire had reached the tanker. I knew, as a firefighter, that I only had a matter of a minute or two before that tanker went up. I knew what I had to do.

I turned the hose off and began to run for my life. I was yelling at all the bystanders to run. I heard the sirens from the responding companies before seeing them in the distance. But they were out of time, and so was I.

The fire had reached the tanker and set off the fuel still inside, the tanker blowing up in a spectacular fire ball. The deafening explosion of the tanker drowned out the next explosion, that of the pumps at the station and the tanks below.

It was this second explosion that blew me literally off of my feet. A piece of the tankers cab door caught me in the legs from behind, propelling me forward. I landed about 20 feet from where I had been hit. That was the last thing I remember before my vision went to a pinpoint and I lost consciousness all together.

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When I woke up, I could hear the roar of the station fire. I let out a groan, then coughed when smoke filled my airway. I opened my eyes to see that I was now on my back. The bright sunshine bored its way into my skull. So, I squeezed my eyes shut again.

"Hey, that's no way to greet us!" a voice exclaimed from beside me. I opened my eyes again to see Doug Phillips looking down at me.

"I'm sorry, but having my eyes burned out their sockets just did not seem appealing this time of morning," I replied sarcastically.

I heard a laugh and saw that Tom Dwyer was kneeling on my other side. "What is so funny?" I asked of him.

"You Mike. I don't think I have ever heard you put more than three words into your sentences," Tom replied, giggling again as he was inserting an IV into my arm.

"Oh ha ha Dwyer. You must have taken finny pills this morning. So, what's wrong with me?" I asked, as Doug was getting an oxygen mask ready.

"You have two broken legs and first and second degree burns on the backs of your arms. Plus you have a probable concussion. All in all, I'd say you were pretty lucky. Anything else you want to know?" Tom replied as he and Doug strapped me down to a backboard.

"No, nothing else."

"Do you remember what happened?" Doug asked of me as he and Tom loaded me into an ambulance.

"The driver of the tanker lit a cigarette while he was still transferring fuel to the underground tanks. The idiot flicked his match onto the ground near the tanker. Unfortunately, there was gasoline on the ground from a leaking nozzle. Needless to say, the rest is history. The station and tanker blew and that was the last thing I remember."

"Well, I'd say you're good to go," Doug replied as he jumped into the ambulance with me. Tom shut the door and I heard the distinct two slaps once he was done.

"What do you mean?" I asked. It sounded a little muffled since I had an oxygen mask on.

"Well, you remember the accident, your vitals look good, I think you're gonna make it Mike," Doug replied, checking my vitals and the IV he had set up.

We had just a five minute run and we were at Rampart. Next thing I knew, the doors to the ambulance were being opened.

"Room 3," Dixie McCall said, coming up beside my gurney. "Hi Mike. How are you feeling?"

I sort of smiled up at her before replying, "Like I've been blown off my feet."

Dixie smiled before saying, "I've heard that one before. By the way, I called your wife. Beth should be here as soon as she can. I believe she was going to call your shift mates and a babysitter before she left."

"Thanks Dixie," I replied as I was wheeled into an exam room. I got a little fuzzy at this point, mainly because they moved me to the exam table. Why? Because moving a person with broken bones is down right painful, I can tell you.

Once the pain had receded a bit, I opened my eyes to have Dr. Brackett and Dixie looking down at me in concern. "Mike, do you hurt anywhere else besides your head, arms and legs?"

I didn't reply right away because I wasn't sure if I was hurt anywhere else. "I think I just hurt a little from being thrown. Other than that, I think I'll be okay."

Brackett smiled before replying, "I'd say that is normal. We are going to x-ray your head and legs to see what kind of damage is there. Plus, we are going to debreed your arms to make sure there is no infection from the burns. But I'd say you're pretty lucky Mike."

"Thanks Doc. Will I be here for long?" I had to ask the six million dollar question.

Brackett smiled at me before replying, "It all depends on how your pictures turn out and we get you on a round of antibiotics for the burns. After we get your pictures back, I'll be able to determine that. Just hang tight Mike while the tech does your x-rays."

"I will, thanks Doc," I replied, watching as he and Dixie let in the x-ray tech, George.

It didn't take long for him to get the pictures, but it sure was painful. As soon as George left I was able to relax, a little. He hadn't been gone all that long when Dixie opened the door.

"You ready for some company?"

I nodded, "Sure."

She opened the door to reveal my wife and my shift mates. As soon as everyone was in the room, Dixie shut the door behind her as she left us.

Beth ran to my side; I could tell she had been crying on her way to the hospital. "Are you okay babe?" I asked her, taking her hand.

She smiled before replying, "Yeah, I'm okay. How about you?"

"I'm a little worse for wear, but I'll be okay." I looked around Beth at my friends. Cap was standing next to Beth, Roy, Johnny, Chet and Marco were standing at the foot of the table. "You guys made good time getting here. Must of broke a few laws to do that,"

I said grinning.

"Beth called us all. We just got here a few minutes ago," Cap replied. He then smiled, "And no, we did not break any laws getting here."

"How in the world did you end up at that station fire?" Johnny asked me.

"Well, the truck's empty light came on. I had to get gas," I replied, glancing at Beth. Then I told them what happened, from my perspective.

That's when I looked over at Cap. "Was there anyone else injured?"

"From what I've heard, there were a few burns, some bruises, stuff like that. Unfortunately, you were the closest to the explosion when it went off."

That was when Brackett and Dixie came back into the room. "But he was really lucky. Mike, it looks like you have clean breaks to your legs and your skull series came back normal. It looks like its just a slight concussion." Brackett looked around at all my visitors. "We are going to get him casted and bandaged up. If you all could wait in the lounge, Dixie will let you all know when we have him settled into a room."

"Okay Doc, come on guys," Cap replied, ushering the guys out of the room. Beth stayed for a moment longer. "Oh babe," she said, tears forming in her eyes again. I grabbed her hand.

"Beth honey, I'll be fine." I gave her a hug as best as I could. "I'll see you in a little while, once they get me upstairs."

"Okay," she said, letting Dixie lead her out of the room.

The next half hour or so was a blur again, while they were setting my legs and working on my arms. But as soon as they got me settled in my room, I was feeling no pain.

That's another thing, pain medicine, when administered by capable doctors, is a wonderful thing. I think by the time my friends showed up, I was flying higher than a kite. I really do not remember their visit, or much of anything for that matter.

I was in the hospital for about two weeks, enough time to allow the burns to heal most of the way. I was so excited to be released. I had only been able to see Matty once or twice the whole two weeks. Even though I couldn't get in the floor to play with my son, I was going to try to make up the two weeks I missed with him.

Cap and Johnny picked me up the day I was released, so Beth would not have to try to find a sitter. About four weeks after I got home, the casts came off. That was a highlight for me. I still had to use crutches, but at least I could play in the floor with Matty and be more mobile.

What about the station, you may ask. It was a total loss. Thankfully, like Cap said, there were light injuries. Everyone had fled the station before it exploded, even the driver. The driver was found about a day or so later, hiding from the police. He knew what he had done. He is going away for a little while. I hope he learns his lesson about smoking, although I believe he will probably never be a tanker driver again.

So, like a said before, you cannot take the firefighter out of a man when he is off shift. To me, I feel like I was in the right place at the right time. I firmly believe that if I had not had to get gas, there would have been many casualties instead of just light injuries. Because of my training, I believe I was a little more perceptible to what happened at that station that day

How am I doing? I'm okay now, back to work, driving the engine. But that day will forever be burned into my memory. It's a story I will be able to tell my son when he grows up, hopefully when he becomes a firefighter and follows in his father's footsteps.