Chapter 63

"Let's roll!" Taren hurried to the bunkroom, pulled on his fire trousers, and slipped the suspenders over his shoulders as he kicked off his shoes. Then he pulled on his boots, slipped into his bright yellow jacket, and grabbed his hat and headed out the door. "Let's go, people!" Taren yelled into the station as he ran out the door and jumped into the passenger side of the fire truck. Erica and Bret jumped in the back.
"We're gone!" Dylan warned everyone as he threw the truck into gear and sounded the horn.
"Ten-seventy-two in progress at 7877 Candy Cane Lane. Suspected people still inside," the dispatch agent's voice resonated over the radio as the fire truck barreled down the road.
"House fire," Taren announced.
Dylan slowed down and blared the horn as they approached a traffic light in the town square. Once they were sure the oncoming traffic had stopped, they proceeded through and then picked up speed again on the other side. Then they turned down a few more streets and soon they turned down Candy Cane Lane and a glow illuminated the street up ahead. The neighbors began to congregate along the street.
"A young woman's still in there!" a man in an untied plaid robe pointed to the house, revealing his striped pajamas underneath.
Taren jumped out of the fire truck before it came to a complete stop. "Don't worry, sir. We'll do what we can." Taren zipped up his coat and then slid on an air tank and his helmet as the others pulled out the hose. "Is there anyone else in the house besides the woman?"
The man shook his head as his wife stood on the curb, wringing her hands. "Not that I know of. She lives alone with her cat."
"Stay here, sir," Taren instructed the man. Erica was standing by him, ready to go in with him while the other men began spraying the house. "Erica, stay here. I'm going in alone."
"I'm going in with you."
He looked directly into her eyes. "That was an order."
She nodded. "Yes, sir."
Taren nodded toward the house. "Have the men concentrate the stream on the front of the house until I come out."
"Will do." Erica hurried toward the other men. "Over here!"
Taren slipped on his helmet, turned on the oxygen, and then headed toward the house. He hurried onto the wooden porch and looked through the huge plate-glass windows. The unconscious figure of a woman lay on the couch. He looked over and the door was blocked by fire, and had spread along the wood floor, edging near the woman. The Christmas tree was ablaze. She had only minutes, if that.
More sirens resonated throughout the neighborhood as Taren looked for a way in. "The heck with it." He picked up a small cast-iron round table setting on the porch and headed to the window located the farthest away from the woman. Then he shoved the table through it, causing the glass to shatter toward the inside.
Taren climbed in and the woman was facing away, laying on her side, her auburn hair fanned out in an unnatural way. When he turned her over, her arm fell limp over the edge of the couch and his breath caught.
"Kiki Long?" he asked aloud.
Taren remembered her dyed-black hair and black Emo makeup from high school. But now, she looked like an entirely different person. He barely recognized her, but he pushed the thought quickly aside. His heart immediately went out to her as he took in her lifeless body, unconscious from smoke inhalation. He checked her pulse and breathed a sigh of relief. She was still alive. Now, to get her out safely-.
"Come on." Taren wrapped her in an afghan, covering her the best he could. Then he slid his arms under her shoulders and knees and lifted her with ease from the couch. "Let's get you out of here."
Turning, he saw that the fire hadn't spread to the back of the house yet. Cradling her body tightly to his chest, he ran through the flames and didn't stop until he felt the rush of cold air outside.
"Here. I'll take her," Dylan said, reaching for her.
But Taren shook his head. "No, I have her." He hurried around to the front of the house where paramedics waited with a stretcher.
"Prissy-." Kiki sighed, drowsy.
Taren smiled. "I've been called a lot of things, but that's the first time I've ever been called that."
She shook her head. "No- my cat- Prissy."
Taren glanced over at Erica, his eyebrows raised, and she nodded. "A cat jumped out the window after you climbed through."
"Where is it?" Taren asked.
She shrugged. "Hiding, probably. The poor thing's probably scared out of its wits."
He nodded, making a mental note to look for it later, but it was probably hiding somewhere close by. Animals usually didn't venture far away from their homes, especially cats. But he quickly pushed the thought aside.
"Here you go," Taren said in a low, soothing voice as he laid Kiki on the stretcher. She looked into his eyes and then closed them again, falling limp as she passed out again.
"We'll take it from here," the paramedic said as he slid an oxygen mask over her face and then turned to the others. "Let's load her up."
They rushed her toward the ambulance, collapsed the legs of the stretcher, and slid her inside. For a split second, Taren wished he could go with her, but he had a job to do. "Okay. Let's put this out!" he yelled to the others and then Erica followed him to the truck. They pulled another hose from the truck and Taren braced himself. A moment later, water gushed forth. Taren pointed it toward the front of the house and Dylan moved the other hose to the right as Bret took another hose to the left.
As they fought the flames throughout the night, Taren couldn't help thinking of Kiki, lying helplessly on the couch, and then the relief he felt when she asked about her cat.
"Merry Christmas, Kiki," he said under his breath, vowing to head over to the hospital to check on her when his shift was over, wondering where she was going to go when she got out.