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Jackson nodded grimly, his gaze fixed further down the trail. Fire caused by a lithium-ion battery—the thought sent a chill down his spine, a horrible reminder of the dangers posed by the temperamental equipment. “That’s a high-density neighborhood. If they don’t get it under control fast, it can do major damage. And Louis is running the scene.” Louis was the weaker captain. “God, I hope he can handle it.”
The crackle of the radio delivered an update: “Multiple injuries reported. One critical, one serious, and multiple moderate injuries. Requesting all available units to assist.”
Turk's eyes widened hearing the severity of the situation. “This is going off the rails. How do we stop people from using non-certified batteries? What is it, the fifth fire we’ve had?”
“Money. Maybe we can get a grant and replace the bad batteries for good ones. You know, like when people turn in a gun for a gift card?” Jackson's jaw clenched, his voice edged with unease. “We need to make sure everyone's safe. These batteries are unpredictable, and once they catch fire, they're a bomb. Water won’t shut them down.”
Turk nodded. “Let's get back to the station, see what support we can offer.” They picked up their pace.
On the way back, their discussion morphed into ideas for logistical planning and safety precautions training. The radio chatter echoed around them, updates about the fire's impact continuing to pour in.
It took a while before Jackson managed to get cell reception. Dialing into the scene, his breath caught as Luke Shane, one of the lieutenants, delivered unsettling news. “Detective Everhart pulled out a thirteen-year-old kid from the fire—they both have serious smoke inhalation. She's in the hospital.” Luke's words hit Jackson like a sledgehammer.
Jackson turned to Turk and swallowed hard. “Livvy has smoke inhalation. We have to get to the hospital.”
They dumped their hiking gear into the Tahoe. Turk hit his emergency lights and floored it to the hospital.
When they arrived, Jackson ran to the ER’s nurses’ station. “Detective Everhart?” he asked one of the regular nurses. “How is she? Is she stable?”
“She's heavily sedated for now. The smoke inhalation was moderate, but she's responding well to treatment.” The nurse pointed toward her room. “We’re moving her to the ICU soon.”
Turk placed a hand on Jackson's shoulder. “You know they’ll take good care of her here. Don’t worry.”
As Jackson nodded in agreement with Turk's observation, a flicker of concern flashed across his features. “Yeah, and she's stupid too. She had no equipment. She could have gotten herself killed.”
The worry gnawed at him; he couldn't help but feel a pang of apprehension at the thought of her risking her safety in such a reckless manner. He needed to talk to her, to make sure she understood the dangers involved in their line of work. He couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to her.
Jackson eased himself into the chair beside Olivia's bed, his eyes fixated on her face. Soot still dotted her nose and lips. Tubes and monitors surrounded her, beeps and hums filling the room.
Jackson whispered, “Livvy... come on, wake up. I…” He didn’t finish his sentence, suddenly realizing how much she was beginning to mean to him.
Turk stood nearby, his expression a copy of Jackson's.
Jackson’s voice cracked, “You can't do this, Livvy. You can't leave me hanging like this. Our fathers would be pissed off. Wake up, please.”
He reached out, gently taking her hand in his, his touch seeking a response, a sign. “Livvy. You've got to fight through this. We need you back with us.”
“You heard the nurse. They sedated her,” Turk reminded his friend. “I’ll say a prayer. Call me when you want to head home. I’m gonna go to the station.” He looked at Olivia. “Liv, wake up before this guy loses it.” He grabbed Jackson’s shoulder and headed out.
Jackson walked beside her bed as they transported her to the ICU. The hospital room was quiet, the only sounds the soft hum of medical equipment and the rhythmic beeping that monitored Olivia's condition. He sat by her bedside, his eyes fixed on her sleeping form.
The door opened, and Charlotte Everhart entered, her expression a mix of surprise and worry. “I didn't realize anyone was here. I spoke with her sisters, and they’re on their way.” She walked over to Olivia and kissed her cheek. “Liv, I owe you an apology. It doesn’t matter what job…” Her voice cracked as she turned to Jackson. “I argued with her about going through the fire academy.”
He rose from his seat. “Hi, Chief Everhart. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I'm Jackson….”
“Jackson Reynolds. You’re not intruding.” Charlotte took the other empty chair. “It's alright. Liv told me you’d been spending some time together.”
He looked down. “We have—it’s work-related, but we’ve been sorting through our complicated history.”
Charlotte blew out a breath. “Liv is fiercely protective of her dad's memory. Thank you for being there and also being here for her now. You can fill in some of the gaps about what happened to her dad.” She got up again and sat on the side of Olivia’s bed, taking her daughter’s hand into her own. “Were you at the scene? My daughter Sophie said the fire was caused by a lithium-ion battery.”
“No, ma’am. I wish I had been. Maybe I could have prevented this.” He also looked toward Olivia.
Charlotte met Jackson’s eyes with a strong look. “No regrets—they’re toxic. Liv was in that apartment long before the fire department arrived. I know she was tracking down some kids who started a dumpster fire. We were talking about how the kids who do things like this are getting younger.” She shook her head. “Things happen for a reason. It’s how the universe works.” She settled again into the chair beside Jackson, a silence filling the space as they both kept watch over Olivia.
Charlotte turned to him. “Don’t look so worried. Sophie said the pulmonologist had Liv sedated. She hardly ever slows down. She wouldn’t stop talking. Always on the move, just like her dad.” She took a deep breath.
During their conversation about nothing, the door creaked open, and a woman who was Charlotte’s spitting image stepped in. “Hey, Mom, how is she?” She checked the fluids and the monitors.
