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Walking into the door seemed like as best an excuse as any.
Sighing, I shut down the computer, grabbed my purse and made my way out of the office. I pondered stopping on the way home for some ice cream, to celebrate the fact that I wasn’t pregnant.
Then again, I didn’t want to be late.
Chapter 2: Andy
“Andy, upstairs!”
The heat of the surrounding fire was excruciating, and even with the protective gear, I could feel the flames threatening to burn my skin off. The smoke was blinding, and the creaking of the house’s foundations only made the situation worse. I barely heard Bobby yelling at me before a beam crashed down in front of me and sent sparks into the air, forcing me back.
“I can’t get to the stairs!” I heard Bobby shout from somewhere beyond the wall of fire and smoke.
I looked around me, panting as I squinted through the fire. I spotted the staircase a few yards away.
“I got it!” I yelled.
“Hurry up, man,” Bobby yelled back. “This place isn’t going to hold for very much longer!”
It was rare for a fire of this magnitude to disturb the peace in Mansfield, and the fact that I personally knew the family didn’t make it any easier. We had gotten the 911 call only half an hour ago, and the familiarity of the address had left me with a sick taste in my mouth. By the time we had arrived, John and Samantha Klein were already safe outside, with no sign of their son, Peter.
Bobby had been close on my heels when I stormed into the house.
I had grown up with John, had even dated his wife for a while back in high school before she learned that I was probably not the best guy to start a family with. Too much of a thrill seeker, an adrenaline junky since I was four, and definitely not in any way domestically stable. Besides, catching me in bed with her best friend had pretty much ruined any chance of our relationship going much further.
Still, John and I had stayed close. I was his best man at the wedding, shamelessly hooking up with one of the maid of honors afterwards. The two of us frequently volunteered at Mansfield Middle School, coaching baseball when the school’s coach was either too drunk or too high to show up. We enjoyed poker nights at his place, with Samantha civil enough to let me into her house without giving me the finger, and a few innocent football games over the weekends. I was also a regular at their summer barbecue.
So, it was no surprise when he made me godfather to his first born, much to Samantha’s dismay, I was sure. And I loved that kid like he was my own.
That same kid who now was somewhere inside this burning house, scared shitless, no doubt. And hopefully with enough sense to have taken what I had taught him about fires seriously enough to say alive until I could find him.
I shook the thought away and hurried across what remained of the Klein’s living room, praying that nothing else fell down around me or blocked my way up. I took the stairs by two, forcing myself to keep moving despite the flames that licked at me from every corner. Peter’s room was the first door to the left, and as soon as I was on the second-floor landing, I raced inside. The heat was a little more tolerable here, but the creaking of the floorboards beneath my feet told me that it was only a matter of time before the whole thing collapsed.
“Peter!”
Nothing. I quickly scanned the room and dropped to my knees to look under the bed. Stay low and go, buddy. Let’s hope you remembered that. He wasn’t there, and I was slowly beginning to panic. If he was as smart as I knew he was, he probably would have crawled out of the room. That meant I’d have to check the entire second floor, and I wasn’t sure how long the structure would stand.
“Peter!” I shouted again, hoping for at least some reply that would make my search quicker.
The closet door to my left was kicked open, and I turned towards the crashing sound. Peter sat in the corner, hidden behind hanging clothes that were just begging to
be fuel for the fire around us. He was shaking, his eyes wide in horror, but he didn’t hesitate to drop down onto his stomach and crawl towards me.
I met him halfway, pulling him into my arms. He coughed uncontrollably.
“You’re okay, buddy,” I yelled over the sound of the flames. “Are you okay to run out of here?”
Peter shook his head, threw his arms around my neck and almost suffocated me.
“Alright, alright, window it is, come on.”
I dragged him beside me, making sure he kept his head as low as possible.
“Andy Stetson to Command. One conscious victim found on the second floor, front bedroom. Victim is frantic. I need a ladder and hands.”
I didn’t wait for a reply, quickly throwing the window open and pushing the small, makeshift desk to a side. I sat Peter down while I worked to remove the glass, the window sash and the Power Rangers curtains. From below, I watched Bobby leading a three-man team with a ladder towards us.
“We’re getting out of here, buddy,” I smiled down at Peter. He only nodded.
