Chapter 1April
Twenty-foot ceilings with orange steel beams, a concrete floor, the smell of engine oil, a hint of leftover smoke in the gear from the last call, various colognes, and lunch. Garlic. Oregano. Those observations were fleeting when August reached out between two rigs to gently brush his fingertips along the gleaming red exterior.
“Fire engine red.”
A quick inspection in the hook and ladder’s huge side mirror confirmed not a stray whisker remained on his square jaw or dimpled chin. Every jet black hair in place, not a wrinkle in the uniform, not a scuff on his shoes, Felicia Cirillo had already given her son a thorough once over before sending him off. Training and studying complete, it was August’s first official day as a member of Levitville Fire Station 59. The Five-Nine.
