There is a hush over the darkened firehouse. It is just before midnight and the crew is attempting to catch some shuteye. Walsh tossed and turned in his bunk. What he had seen hours before- it was more than he could stand. The sight, the smells, he wanted to forget it all. He just wanted to throw up. He made his way to the bathroom and then to the bathroom sink. He splashed his face with the cool water. It felt good to him, but he couldn't suppress the feeling. He got to the toilet and threw up. He flushed the toilet and returned to the sink. He once again took the cool water to his face. He leaned over the sink and brushed his hair back. He noticed the he needed a haircut.
DK and Walsh searched the building. Working apartment fires were tricky. First you had to locate the source, then check for extension, and search for trapped residents. Most importantly you had to extinguish the blaze. Fortunately, most apartment fires were simply "food on the stove" calls or furnace malfunctions- easily remedied. This one unfortunately this one was not.
They arrived on scene to find fire on the third floor extending to the forth. It was an old building and that wasn't helping the efforts one bit. They also knew that there was a child trapped somewhere on that third floor and it was up to DK and Walsh to get him out.
The pair made their way up to the third floor and began checking the apartments in the back. The apartment number on the door read '306,' they felt the door. It was warm.
"This is it." DK says
"Yeah hopefully it's not where the kid is." Walsh replies
"If only we could be so lucky." DK responds as he knocks the door open
Smoke, flames, and cries greet them.
"FIRE DEPARTMENT!" DK yells to try to find the child
"Help me!" a child's voice cries
"Where'd that come from?" DK asks
"I don't know." Walsh replies
"Keep talking to us!" DK encourages the child to continue to call out.
Time was against them now though.
"Back here." The cry sounds painful and distant
The two firefighters continued to search through the apartment. They made their way back to the bedroom. The cries for help had stopped. DK had seen this before. A child had smaller lungs, took less time for the smoke to overtake them. He knew that the smoke was doing just that with this child. He hurried to get there. The worst thing in a fire was a kid being injured or killed. And DK never felt comfortable with a trapped person inside, especially not a child.
"Walsh!" DK calls, he had found the child who did not appear to be breathing.
Walsh got over to where his colleague was and he stopped in his tracks. The smell filtered through his mask. He wanted to throw up.
"Help me get him out." DK says.
The kid was trapped under some debris from the ceiling that was beginning to collapse. Walsh took the child and then he and DK immediately made their way for the exit. They reach the entrance when debris falls in the hallway. The ceiling above collapses blocking off the escape route. They turn back to the engulfed room. DK fights his way to the window and busts out the glass. He leans out.
"Get the ladder up here!" he yells
The breaking glass had caught the attention of Lt. Pratt below.
"Get that ladder up there now!" He orders
The operator of the truck maneuvers the ladder into place and DK helps Walsh get the kid out. He heads down the ladder with the child in his arms. DK follows behind. They reach the ground and the waiting medics who take over care for the lifeless child. They attempt resuscitation and head off to the hospital.
Walsh makes his way through the scene and to the back of the squad. He sits down and puts his head in his hands. His face is covered in soot. He looks down at his coat- there was something there. He pulled it off. It was a piece of the child's clothing. He quickly drops it and can no longer fight back the urge to throw up.
DK watches from a distance. He knew this was the first time that Walsh was introduced to death by fire. He had felt the same way on his first. It was an unfortunate circumstance of the job. He walked over to his partner.
"Hey." He says
Walsh looks up, "Hey." He wipes his face on his sleeve.
"It never gets easier." DK admits
"I didn't expect it to be like that." Walsh responds
"You never do." DK says
Walsh nods because he knows that this wouldn't be the only time he'd ever go through this. He didn't like the feeling though.
"We did what we could." DK tells him as he pats his shoulder before walking away.
Walsh stared coldly at his reflection in the mirror. He needed to clear his head. He turned around to find DK standing there.
"How long you been standing there?" Walsh asks
"Long enough to watch you try to wash the incident away." DK responds
"I couldn't sleep." Walsh says
"I know."
"I'm gonna go downstairs for a bit." Walsh replies
"Okay." DK didn't need any explanation.
Walsh walked down the stairs to the lounge. He was only wearing his t-shirt and shorts. He stood by the window and watched the street below. The only movement was the red and white lights of a police RMP pulling away from the precinct. He smelled coffee now. He turned to find his superior standing nearby.
"Coffee?" He asks as he extends one of two cups
Walsh took it and went into the kitchen to add sugar and cream to it.
"You okay?" The Lieutenant asks
"I can't get that out of my head." Walsh admits
"It doesn't make it any easier." Lt. Pratt says, "But it started in the bedroom. The boy was playing with matches."
"Sad that a life was cut so short." Walsh responds
"Yeah." Lt. Pratt answers, "You did your job though. Walsh, you're only human."
Walsh nodded. He knew that he had done his job well. He also knew that death was a part of the job, but one so young? That hurt. It happened to be his first though. Lt. Pratt put his hand on the young firefighter's shoulder. It was all that needed to be said now. Walsh got what the Lieutenant was saying, without the words. Pratt left the room and Walsh sat alone at the table looking at his coffee cup. He remained there for a short time before the alarm sounded again.
"Squad 55 respond for an MVC 78th and 2nd." The box called
Lt. Pratt walks out of his office and looks at Walsh.
"It's a clean slate." He reminds him as they head for the truck.
IT was a clean slate. Each new call meant another person needed help. It was a new opportunity to save a life. It didn't matter what you did the call before. That was then, this is now. You had to take the good with the bad. Walsh understood that and it made him work that much harder the next time around. You never fully knew what you were going to get each time you rolled out the door. That was part of the job. It kept you alert. There was no time to second-guess your actions because that made you vulnerable. And fire was unforgiving.