Page 40 of Igniting Her

Nearest viable exit.

Ellie keyed her radio. “Harrow Command, Attack. Victim located, conscious, rear-left bedroom. Interior hall deteriorating. We’re removing Charlie window.”

There was no hesitation in Cassie’s reply. “Copy victim located. Engine 7, ladder the Charlie window now. Ridge, keep the room isolated and confirm when exterior is in position.”

The girl’s breathing had gone shallow and fast. Ellie put her own gloved hand over the girl’s fist around the bottle. “Look at me. There’s a ladder coming to this window. We’re not going back through the hall.”

“I can climb.”

“Good. You can do exactly what the firefighter outside tells you.”

Jamie checked the door. Heat had begun to travel lower across it. “We don’t have much room left.”

Ellie keyed her radio. “Harrow Command, Attack. Room isolated. Victim conscious. Door conditions worsening.”

Her low-air alarm gave its first chirp before she released the transmit button, carrying the warning with the last word.

Cassie’s answer came at once. “Copy. Hold the room.”

A hard pulse of fear struck beneath Ellie’s ribs. She worked through it. Reserve was not empty. A closed door stood between them and the fire. A ladder was moving below the window. Every part of the decision still had support. The margin had narrowed to seconds.

“Ladder coming up,” a voice called from outside.

Teak’s voice followed over the radio. “Search at the top landing. We have the hall.”

Ellie broke the window from the upper corner, cleared the remaining glass, and pulled the curtain down before it could burn. Fresh air tugged smoke toward the opening. Jamie kept the bedroom door tight while Ellie drew the girl upright.

“Harrow Command, Charlie ladder in place,” Engine 7 reported. “One firefighter at the sill, one footing.”

“Copy,” Cassie said. Then, directly to Ellie, “Attack, begin the feed.”

Ellie got behind the girl and hooked both arms beneath hers. She brought the teenager’s back against her chest the way Cassie had taught her in the station gym, widened her base, and lifted through her legs. The girl’s feet dragged once in the carpet. Ellie adjusted and brought her to the sill.

Outside, the Engine 7 firefighter climbed until his shoulders reached the window. “Feet first. I’ve got her.”

The girl panicked at open air. Her hands caught the frame. “No.”

“Your mother is down there,” Ellie told her. “You are going to her. Put your right foot out.”

Behind them, something struck the bedroom door hard enough to bow it inward. Jamie leaned into it and opened the line through the gap. Water roared. Steam erased the far side of the room.

Ellie’s low-air alarm began its full pulsing cry.

“Right foot,” she repeated.

The girl obeyed.

Ellie fed one leg through, then the other. The outside firefighter caught the girl beneath the arms and set her weight against his supporting knee. For three seconds, both firefighters carried part of her weight. Ellie held her from inside while the firefighter settled her securely against the ladder.

“I have her,” he called.

Ellie released.

The girl disappeared below the sill.

“Victim on the ladder,” Ellie transmitted. Her radio clicked but gave her no sidetone. Water had found its way into the remote microphone. She tried again. Nothing.

Jamie looked at her. “Radio?”