A Bad One

A Bad One

Jim Gatlin put on his turnout coat and fastened it. Then he put on his gloves, carefully tucking the tops into the coat’s elasticized inner cuffs. Finally, he grabbed his helmet and breathing apparatus and jumped on the truck as it was leaving the bay, sirens blaring.

“Looks like a bad one. Dispatch says it's fully engulfed,” the chief said to the rest of the crew. Jim tensed then forced himself to relax.

When the hook and ladder got to the scene, the aerial ladder was raised. Jim mounted it and began climbing. When he and the rookie behind him reached the roof, they got on it and began looking for hotspots. With axes, they vented the roof.

Over the roar of the flames, Jim thought he heard something.

“Looks like we got people inside, somewhere on the left side,” he shouted into his two-way.

Crews below scrambled to beat back the flames and entered the two-story house, wearing breathing apparatus, to search. Signaling to the rookie to get off the roof as there was no saving it, Jim scrambled down the ladder to help with a hose. A cloud of black oily smoke hit him.

Gasping for air, Jim awoke with a blink and drenched in sweat.

“I should have taken ground crew. Maybe I could have saved those three kids!” he whispered into the darkness of his bedroom.

He got up to pour himself some ice water. He’d seen many horrors in his career, but this one still haunted him, maybe always would.

“I guess I’ll never really retire from those memories,” he told himself as he sipped the water.

“I need to go fishin’ soon. Maybe I’ll take the grandkids!” he said with a smile as he settled into his favorite chair and fell asleep.