A is also for Alone
The fire had been a bad one, but was finally close to breathing its last. There was no question in anyone's mind that it was a case of arson. The fire had very obviously been started at nearly the same time in at least a dozen different locations in the building. The fast response that had kept the entire building from being totally consumed was due to the pure coincidence of the vehicles of Station 51 passing by and noticing the smoke on their way back from, ironically, a false alarm. Captain Stanley called it in, requesting and receiving backup in the form of Engine 45.
Johnny and Roy were already away from the scene, having had to ride in with injuries while Marco drove the squad to the hospital for them. Due to twists in fate and flat out bad luck, Chet Kelly was currently the only member of Station 51 A-Shift still on the scene. Charlie from Maintenance had already come to claim Big Red. The explosion from underneath, through a man-hole of all places, that had injured Mike and Cap had also damaged the engine. Charlie didn't think it was too bad, but wanted to fully check over all air, fuel and oil lines before releasing the engine back into service.
With literally no way for him to get back to the Station 51, Captain Lightner of Engine 45 set Chet to work with his crew on clean-up. The problem happened because of small factors. A faulty battery in the HT given to Chet. A tired crew. A distracted Captain. When the call went out to pack it up, Chet's radio didn't alert him and he had no idea that it wasn't working. And without the visible reminders of the Station 51 vehicles, the tired men forgot about the one remaining member of Station 51 as they loaded their gear back onto their engine. They had just completed that when they were toned out again to a dumpster fire. Groaning, they headed to the new fire five miles away, not giving another thought back to the scene they'd just cleared.
For his part, between concentrating on what he was doing and hearing the echoes bouncing back, Chet had no idea that he was the only one left at the scene. At least, not until thirst and fatigue began to make themselves known. Then he took better stock of his surroundings and noted that the light was starting to fade. Frowning, Chet reached for his HT and keyed it. His mouth and throat were dry and made him sound hoarse.
"This is Kelly. Could I get a break, Captain?"
Just static answered him, and very faint static at that – it gave Chet an uneasy feeling. Cap wouldn't just – then he remembered. Cap and Mike were both at Rampart – along with Roy, Johnny and Marco. He was here with Engine 45. They wouldn't have just left him here. Would they?
A noise came from behind and Chet relaxed a little. Okay – they were still here. He was just being paranoid. But then the unfamiliar voice speaking up brought the tension right back up though and proved his paranoia was justified.
"I told you I saw one of the spoilsports still here."
Keeping a firm hold on his fire axe, Chet turned around slowly. Holy crap. Eight guys - late teens or early twenties - and all of them looking like they stepping out of a movie about street gangs. All of them were at least his size and three of them were what he would term as huge. Despite a very bad feeling about this, Chet managed to keep both his voice and stance steady.
"This building isn't safe. You should all leave now to avoid getting hurt."
The laugh in response didn't help Chet's nerves any.
"Don't worry about us getting hurt, Fireman Kelly. Now, put the axe down."
Firmly shaking his head, Chet took a tighter grip on his axe.
"Can't do that. I need it for my job."
"What job, man? Everyone else went off and left you here alone. All alone with us. So work time's over. It's play time."
A cold chill went down Chet's spine as the men slowly spread out and began to surround him, taunting.
"So? What do you guys think? Think he can actually bring himself to take a swing at us with that thing when we're all unarmed?"
"Yeah, that would make all the papers, wouldn't it? Nutso fireman attacks unarmed teenagers with an axe."
No, Chet didn't think he could bring himself to take a swing. The thought of deliberately hurting someone like that was repugnant to him. Not that he was about to say that. Trouble was he didn't think it was going to make any difference whether they thought he'd try to use the axe or not due to the sheer number of people around him and the fact that it was, of course, impossible for him to watch them all at one time.
As if he had been reading Chet's thoughts, one of them moved closer, drawing Chet's attention to him. While Chet's attention was there, two others moved quickly to grab him from behind.
Exhausted from the long fight with the fire followed by the cleanup, Chet put up a fight, but really didn't have a chance - especially with the heavy odds against him. Once they had him pinned, the axe was pried from his grasp and tossed carelessly to the side in short order. Then they laughed at his impotent struggles as they began to strip his protective gear off of him, tossing the pieces in random directions – turnout coat and pants, gloves, helmet and boots.
When it landed seconds later, the first blow didn't really come as a surprise. However, the way it quickly became a free for all with everyone trying to hit or kick him at the same time? That did shock him. Then, as quickly as the beating had started, it stopped. No longer being held, Chet collapsed into a gasping heap on the ground. It didn't feel like even a square inch of him remained that hadn't been smacked, punched or kicked.
"Good. He's still breathing. Save some for later or the other guys will be mad that they missed out. Come along, Fireman Kelly. We've got all night to have some more fun before morning."
The man walked over to where Chet's helmet had landed and gave it a kick.
"Helmet says Station 51. Guess that's where we'll need to send the ashes when we're done."