A/N: This is my first TW story, but not my first fic. It's rushed, so it may not be too good. I can deal with that, for now, if you can. Review lots! I'm a junkie! If you like and if you tell me to, I'll continue…actually, even if you don't like it, I'll probably still post more. Hehe. I need 5 reviews to do so, though…so review! Ahem…have I said that enough?
Thanks to
The sun was shining brightly in the sky. That seemed wrong somehow. Maybe because it was a little under forty degrees and dark clouds lined the grey sky. It was like one of those "What's Wrong With This Picture?" features in children's magazines. It bothered Phillip Yoketo to no ends. A sunny day was to be sunny. A cold day to be dreary and overcast. Or at least not to have the sun shining as if it were summer!
Grumbling under his breath Phillip pulled his tan jacket further around his wiry frame and walked from the alleyway and into the stream of people that was making its way along the sidewalk. He held his jacket shut with arms folded across his chest, looking from person to person in true, but subtle, paranoid style.
As he walked away from the alley a slow grin spread across his pale face. He had to bite back a laugh as he darted between the throng of people, gone before anyone could notice his presence.
Not half a minute later, almost a block away a building burst into flames with a low rumble, spreading debris through the air.
Scream echoed through the streets.
"This is bad," Faith Yokas said needlessly, wiping her dirty hands on her uniform pants.
"Really?" Bosco said sarcastically, looking at the smoldering wreck of a building. He knew, though, that Faith had said that only because the sight had left her pretty much speechless.
There was extensive damage to the site. The building in the middle, where the explosion had occurred, was only a pile of rocks now, the foundation the only thing left halfway standing. The two buildings beside it were on fire, chunks of them lying amongst the other rubble. Fires burned in the debris here and there, and the streets were a mess. Cars were half buried beneath the rubble.
Firefighters crawled inside, and out, hoses spraying water, searching for survivors, doing what firefighters do best. Cops did crowd control, but since not many people wanted close to the unstable area, they could stand by and watch unhindered. The paramedics, sometimes aided by cops or firefighters, treated the injured and bagged the dead.
Bosco thought to himself how much it reminded him of the 9-11 and wondered if any others felt that too. He sighed and said, "Yeah, Faith, this is bad."
"I wonder what caused it," she mused, staring at the scene in front of her.
She saw Jimmy walking from the doorway of the building to the right, where the fire had just about been snuffed. "Hey, Jimmy!"
He turned her way at the sound of her voice, removed his helmet and strode over, breathing hard. He looked rushed. "Yeah?"
"Any idea what caused the fire?" she asked, eyeing his sooty face.
He exhaled loudly, running a hand through his hair. "Not yet. Look, I gotta go. I'll let you know if I find anything out, okay?"
"Yeah, sure," she nodded, watching him run back towards the Chief.
"What, he's not in a good mood?" Bosco said, still watching the flames with an odd interest.
"Quiet in the peanut gallery," Faith said, swatting at him.
He smirked at her, and yelled to an unseen man to stay behind the yellow tape, hoping this would end soon. He was tired and he was sick of watching people gawk.
Jimmy peered through his mask at the smoky hallway. Orange and red glow danced on the scorched black walls of the apartment, playing with his vision.
He lifted his mask off of his face, wincing as his eyes began to water. Coughing as he inhaled the smoke he called out, "Hello? Anyone in here?"
He knew the building had been cleared, all but the top floor, the fourth, where he was now searching room by room.
"Hello!" he called again, wiping at his eyes with a gloved hand, smearing black soot across his face. "Is anyone here?"
An answering cry came from somewhere in front of him, muffled by a wall or two. A small voice crying out for help.
Hand on one wall, eyes alert, he pushed forward.
"How's he doing?" a sobbing woman asked Kim, clinging to her arm. "Will my Marty be all alright?"
Kim gently pushed the woman's arm from hers. "Marty is going to be fine. He's a little winded, but he'll be fine. Can you tell me what happened?"
"I was just making tea," she sniffled. "And all of a sudden all the alarms went off. It was that blasted man down the hall! I know it! Him and his cigars! Marty told him not to smoke in that fire trap he calls a home!"
A bit taken aback at the stony tone the woman took on, Kim patted her arm. "So, the man was smoking…and?"
"He's so irresponsible!" the woman fumed. "He'll toss the butt right down! Even if his floor's covered in paper! Damned man almost cost my Marty his life!"
Kim nodded with a little smile, cringing inside. What a weird lady. "You were making tea…did you shut the burners off before you left the apartment?"
Interrupted in the middle of her rant she was caught off guard. "Why…no. I was too busy getting out of the building."
Gas, Kim thought. Gas!
She left the woman behind, running to the fire Chief. "There's gas on in there!"
The Chief looked alarmed, spoke into his radio. "Doherty, Sheldon, get out of there ASAP, we have an open gas line! Repeat, get your asses out here now!"
Jimmy heard the call through his radio through a crackle of static and groaned in frustration. Great, gas and fire are the perfect mix.
He kicked in a locked door, peering through the haze with his stinging eyes. "Anyone here?"
"Help me," replied a sobbing woman who was kneeling in her full tub. "Please, help me!"
"Can you walk?" he asked, kneeling by her and letting her take a breath from his mask.
She shook her head, sobbing too hard to answer.
He picked her up in his arms, water running down the both of them, and spoke into his radio. "Chief, I've got a woman in here, she's alive. I'm coming out."
He tightened his grip around the woman and stumbled out of the bathroom into the hallway.
"Oh, shit," he swore as a wall of flame met his eyes. Flaming rafters had fallen, blocking his path in the hall. His way out.
"Chief," he spoke in a rushed voice. "My way out's blocked. I need a ladder at the fourth floor now!
Without waiting for a reply, he rushed to the nearest window. He stood the woman up. "Ma'am, what's you name?"
"C-Clara," she said, hyperventilating.
"Okay, Clara, I need you to calm down," he said, grabbing her shoulders. "I need you to breathe. We're gonna climb down the ladder, okay?"
She nodded, still gasping, her body shaking uncontrollably.
"Clara, you need to calm down," he told her. "Can you do that?"
She tried to nod, but began gasping loudly, unable to breathe in her fit of fear. She grabbed at Jimmy's jacket and with wild eyes began to claw. "Help me!!"
He swore as her nails grazed his face and grabbed her arms. "Calm down! Clara, stop it!"
She screamed at the top of her lungs and in an instant all hell broke loose.
He heard the explosion before he felt it, and his eyes grew wide as he clutched Clara. "Oh, Jesus."
Thanks to
The sun was shining brightly in the sky. That seemed wrong somehow. Maybe because it was a little under forty degrees and dark clouds lined the grey sky. It was like one of those "What's Wrong With This Picture?" features in children's magazines. It bothered Phillip Yoketo to no ends. A sunny day was to be sunny. A cold day to be dreary and overcast. Or at least not to have the sun shining as if it were summer!
Grumbling under his breath Phillip pulled his tan jacket further around his wiry frame and walked from the alleyway and into the stream of people that was making its way along the sidewalk. He held his jacket shut with arms folded across his chest, looking from person to person in true, but subtle, paranoid style.
As he walked away from the alley a slow grin spread across his pale face. He had to bite back a laugh as he darted between the throng of people, gone before anyone could notice his presence.
Not half a minute later, almost a block away a building burst into flames with a low rumble, spreading debris through the air.
Scream echoed through the streets.
"This is bad," Faith Yokas said needlessly, wiping her dirty hands on her uniform pants.
"Really?" Bosco said sarcastically, looking at the smoldering wreck of a building. He knew, though, that Faith had said that only because the sight had left her pretty much speechless.
There was extensive damage to the site. The building in the middle, where the explosion had occurred, was only a pile of rocks now, the foundation the only thing left halfway standing. The two buildings beside it were on fire, chunks of them lying amongst the other rubble. Fires burned in the debris here and there, and the streets were a mess. Cars were half buried beneath the rubble.
Firefighters crawled inside, and out, hoses spraying water, searching for survivors, doing what firefighters do best. Cops did crowd control, but since not many people wanted close to the unstable area, they could stand by and watch unhindered. The paramedics, sometimes aided by cops or firefighters, treated the injured and bagged the dead.
Bosco thought to himself how much it reminded him of the 9-11 and wondered if any others felt that too. He sighed and said, "Yeah, Faith, this is bad."
"I wonder what caused it," she mused, staring at the scene in front of her.
She saw Jimmy walking from the doorway of the building to the right, where the fire had just about been snuffed. "Hey, Jimmy!"
He turned her way at the sound of her voice, removed his helmet and strode over, breathing hard. He looked rushed. "Yeah?"
"Any idea what caused the fire?" she asked, eyeing his sooty face.
He exhaled loudly, running a hand through his hair. "Not yet. Look, I gotta go. I'll let you know if I find anything out, okay?"
"Yeah, sure," she nodded, watching him run back towards the Chief.
"What, he's not in a good mood?" Bosco said, still watching the flames with an odd interest.
"Quiet in the peanut gallery," Faith said, swatting at him.
He smirked at her, and yelled to an unseen man to stay behind the yellow tape, hoping this would end soon. He was tired and he was sick of watching people gawk.
Jimmy peered through his mask at the smoky hallway. Orange and red glow danced on the scorched black walls of the apartment, playing with his vision.
He lifted his mask off of his face, wincing as his eyes began to water. Coughing as he inhaled the smoke he called out, "Hello? Anyone in here?"
He knew the building had been cleared, all but the top floor, the fourth, where he was now searching room by room.
"Hello!" he called again, wiping at his eyes with a gloved hand, smearing black soot across his face. "Is anyone here?"
An answering cry came from somewhere in front of him, muffled by a wall or two. A small voice crying out for help.
Hand on one wall, eyes alert, he pushed forward.
"How's he doing?" a sobbing woman asked Kim, clinging to her arm. "Will my Marty be all alright?"
Kim gently pushed the woman's arm from hers. "Marty is going to be fine. He's a little winded, but he'll be fine. Can you tell me what happened?"
"I was just making tea," she sniffled. "And all of a sudden all the alarms went off. It was that blasted man down the hall! I know it! Him and his cigars! Marty told him not to smoke in that fire trap he calls a home!"
A bit taken aback at the stony tone the woman took on, Kim patted her arm. "So, the man was smoking…and?"
"He's so irresponsible!" the woman fumed. "He'll toss the butt right down! Even if his floor's covered in paper! Damned man almost cost my Marty his life!"
Kim nodded with a little smile, cringing inside. What a weird lady. "You were making tea…did you shut the burners off before you left the apartment?"
Interrupted in the middle of her rant she was caught off guard. "Why…no. I was too busy getting out of the building."
Gas, Kim thought. Gas!
She left the woman behind, running to the fire Chief. "There's gas on in there!"
The Chief looked alarmed, spoke into his radio. "Doherty, Sheldon, get out of there ASAP, we have an open gas line! Repeat, get your asses out here now!"
Jimmy heard the call through his radio through a crackle of static and groaned in frustration. Great, gas and fire are the perfect mix.
He kicked in a locked door, peering through the haze with his stinging eyes. "Anyone here?"
"Help me," replied a sobbing woman who was kneeling in her full tub. "Please, help me!"
"Can you walk?" he asked, kneeling by her and letting her take a breath from his mask.
She shook her head, sobbing too hard to answer.
He picked her up in his arms, water running down the both of them, and spoke into his radio. "Chief, I've got a woman in here, she's alive. I'm coming out."
He tightened his grip around the woman and stumbled out of the bathroom into the hallway.
"Oh, shit," he swore as a wall of flame met his eyes. Flaming rafters had fallen, blocking his path in the hall. His way out.
"Chief," he spoke in a rushed voice. "My way out's blocked. I need a ladder at the fourth floor now!
Without waiting for a reply, he rushed to the nearest window. He stood the woman up. "Ma'am, what's you name?"
"C-Clara," she said, hyperventilating.
"Okay, Clara, I need you to calm down," he said, grabbing her shoulders. "I need you to breathe. We're gonna climb down the ladder, okay?"
She nodded, still gasping, her body shaking uncontrollably.
"Clara, you need to calm down," he told her. "Can you do that?"
She tried to nod, but began gasping loudly, unable to breathe in her fit of fear. She grabbed at Jimmy's jacket and with wild eyes began to claw. "Help me!!"
He swore as her nails grazed his face and grabbed her arms. "Calm down! Clara, stop it!"
She screamed at the top of her lungs and in an instant all hell broke loose.
He heard the explosion before he felt it, and his eyes grew wide as he clutched Clara. "Oh, Jesus."