The weather was frigid, but the day was clear. Tom threaded down roads until they came to where they needed to go: a residential apartment complex nearly 20 stories high. Tom parked out front, craned his neck, and estimated that the fire was raging somewhere between the 14th and 15th floor.
“There could be people still trapped up there,” McCready said. The men piled out into the cold air. Tom barely felt it. His blood was pumping. He knew the rest of the men wouldn’t mind, either.
“Chief,” he said, pointing. Off to the left was another fire engine: Engine 457, a small fire department not too far from their own.
“s**t,” McCready growled. “Hold tight.”
McCready stepped forward and went up to the man holding the door. Police officers were gathered around, as were paramedics a lit
