Fighting the Flames by Leslie Johnson Page A

Jake’s room was at the back of the house. The smoke had spread there, but not yet the flames. The tree landed to the left of his room, but had taken out enough of the wall to wedge the little boy’s door shut. Jake picked up the ax and swung with all his might. He chopped five more times before the wood splintered enough to kick in.
    The heat at his back was incredible and his protective jacket helped but he desperately wished for his full suit. He was also without his oxygen mask and the smoke was beyond intense. Remembering all his yearly training, he was grateful for the time in the smokehouse, but right now, none of that mattered.
    All he could see was little Jake, riding his bike down the sidewalk and waving his little arms in greeting. He’d lost both his front teeth this summer and Ryan could still see his toothless grin.
    “Jake!” he yelled and then yelled his name again. Nothing. He didn’t see or hear him anywhere. Had they been mistaken, had the little boy sneaked downstairs? Oh God, he hoped not.
    He flung open the closet door, just in case the little guy had hidden inside. “Jake,” he called again and then paused; did he hear a cry? “Jake!” He paused and heard it again. Faintly. From the other side of the room.
    Diving onto the floor, he pulled blankets out of the way. And there he was, huddled under the bed, a large stuffed bear in his arms.
    “Come on buddy, I’ve got you,” he tried to sooth and pulled the boy out and into his arms. Jake was crying and coughing and trying to speak but Ryan hushed him. He unbuttoned his coat, opened it and said, “Come on, climb in.” Jake did as he was told and Ryan buttoned the protective coat back around him.
    “We’ve got to get out of here, buddy,” he said. “Hold on tight, put your head down, and don’t let go.”
    He heard a faint, “Okay.” Good enough. He stepped back into the hallway, ready to make a break for the stairs. He was going to make it. One step. Two. Three more before, crash, the ceiling caved in. Holy fuck.
    He turned back to Jake’s room. It would be the window after all. He removed the boy from his coat and raised the glass, kicking out the screen.
    “Daddy,” Jake was shouting through his coughs and Ryan could see Sam standing beneath them. The little boy threw his stuffed bear down and Ryan smiled… one life saved. Now, to get the rest of them out.
    Looking around, he searched for anything he could use to lower the boy to the ground. Nothing. A plastic jump rope and the sheets from the bed. Damn. Sheets would have to do. He yanked them from the bed and tied them together before forming a make-shift harness to circle Jake’s small chest.
    “Ready to be Superman?” Jake asked, trying to make it sound all fun and games. Jakes eyes widened in terror and then he nodded, his lower lip trembling.
    “Coming down,” he shouted and was relieved to hear sirens in the distance. He wished he had time to wait for the ladder, but he didn’t. Flames were coming into the room, licking at the ceiling above him, drawn to the fresh oxygen coming from the window. It was now or never. He lowered Jake over the ledge, handing him down as quickly as he could.
    Damn. The sheets weren’t long enough, he knew they wouldn’t be, but he was hoping they’d get him low enough. He yelled at Sam to “Catch” and then let go when it appeared the father was ready. Yes! The boy landed safely.
    His turn.
    He looked around, only one small blanket left. Not enough to waste time thinking about. No time to get the mattress out for a softer place to land. He would have to jump and hope for the best. Just as he climbed out the window, another crash exploded in his ears… the entrance to Jake’s bedroom collapsed, sending a burst of flames directly at him. He had hoped to hang from the ledge, to lessen the distance of the fall but found himself falling… falling…

Chapter 10
    P ain was everywhere. Some places a brutal lance. Others, a gentle throb.