“Another successful day,” O’Brien was saying. McCready and Buckner were walking out of the building, smoke billowing behind them, helmets in hands. O’Brien was leaning against the engine’s wheel. Jim was sitting on the tailgate of an abandoned pickup, feeling the water drops fall against his skin from the massive hose that was spraying the building down courtesy of Sam Carver.
Jim closed his eyes, tilted his head back, and let the water wash away some of the grime from the fire they’d just put out. They’d rushed inside, saved the lives of a young boy and his sister, stopped the fire from spreading, and then headed out.
The building would suffer some serious water damage, and the young boy had a small burn on his left arm, but other than that, everything had gone smoothly.
These call
