his arms and prepared for his fate: to dance like a worm on a hot griddle, or to become what Leaguers called a day-timer.
For a split second, Varkos tasted the bile of fear.
What if
, his mind fretted,
after more than a thousand years of darkness, the light is too much? What if the demon of myrevenge dies in the cradle?
“No matter,” he whispered across the river to the blooming sunrise. “I have been destroyed before and rose from the ground anew. Pierce me with light. I am indestructible.”
The sun peeked over the ridge; the first ray caught his coppery face. There was no bubbling of flesh, no burst of incineration. His eyes simply squinted against the unaccustomed brightness. Varkos had overcome the vampire’s age-old fear of sunlight the same way a fire walker overcomes the pain of fire: mind over matter.
He answered the sun with a beaming smile. “I’ll be damned.” After his eyes adjusted and he took in an illuminated world he had not seen for eons, he turned and faced Beth. He flicked a hand at her.
She jolted out of her thrall. She was so disoriented she was only capable of one word at a time. “What?”
He thrust an arm toward the river. “Sunrise!” he announced with a boyish grin. “My first in ages.”
She blinked at the bluff they were standing on. “How?”
“Night class. You were brilliant.”
She gaped at the man silhouetted by the sun. “Who?”
He lifted his arms slowly. “Got an updraft to catch. Thanks for showing me the light.”
He suddenly imploded into a peregrine falcon and lifted on the elevator of air rising from the sunlit bluffs.
24
Live Fire
At the fire academy, two trucks—a ladder and a pumper—sirened along the row of cinder-block buildings designed to duplicate the fires New York firefighters faced. The trucks lurched to a halt in front of a four-floor building known as a “taxpayer” because it had a business on the ground floor and apartments above it. Smoke trailed from two top floors. Geared up and ready to fight fire, Morning and his crew leaped from the trucks.
As the crew grabbed their irons, water cans, and various equipment, a bone-chilling cry for help burst from the building’s top floor.
“Whoa, that sounded real!” Armando shouted.
Morning wondered if everyone else on the crew was just as jacked with adrenaline as he was. Another terrifying cry for help banged the probies’ eyes wider.
Captain Clancy stepped out of an operations command truck. “Those are real flames and real screams,” heinformed them. “To get you water lilies ready for the real deal, we’re throwin’ all the reality we can at you.”
Another shriek ripped the air.
“So that’s
real
?” Armando asked.
“Absolutely, as real as recordings get.” Another scream sounded, making Clancy grin. “I love it when they intro a new mix; it even gives
me
the chills.” He got back to business. “Okay, tanker piglets, ready to do a victim search and knock down some fire?”
“Yes, sir!” the probies chorused.
Clancy turned to Morning’s unit: a half-dozen probies near the ladder truck. “Team A, your job’s simple as VES: vent, enter, search.” He turned to the group by the pumper. “Team B, you’re on fire repression. It’s time to see what you hose jockeys are made of.”
“Yes, sir!” the probies shouted.
Clancy pointed at Morning. “McCobb, take the point on rescue, call it as it goes, and don’t screw up. I got cameras all over the building trackin’ every move. After mop-up, we look at game films.” Another scream ripped the air. “Now go eat smoke and bring home the bacon!”
Morning assigned two probies to breach the roll-down gate locking up the street-level entrance and two more to search the ground floor. He led the others through the tenant entrance, and they used a “bunny tool” with a hydraulic piston to kick the door open. As he led the team up the stairs toward the screams, he ordered two more probies to reconnoiter the
For a split second, Varkos tasted the bile of fear.
What if
, his mind fretted,
after more than a thousand years of darkness, the light is too much? What if the demon of myrevenge dies in the cradle?
“No matter,” he whispered across the river to the blooming sunrise. “I have been destroyed before and rose from the ground anew. Pierce me with light. I am indestructible.”
The sun peeked over the ridge; the first ray caught his coppery face. There was no bubbling of flesh, no burst of incineration. His eyes simply squinted against the unaccustomed brightness. Varkos had overcome the vampire’s age-old fear of sunlight the same way a fire walker overcomes the pain of fire: mind over matter.
He answered the sun with a beaming smile. “I’ll be damned.” After his eyes adjusted and he took in an illuminated world he had not seen for eons, he turned and faced Beth. He flicked a hand at her.
She jolted out of her thrall. She was so disoriented she was only capable of one word at a time. “What?”
He thrust an arm toward the river. “Sunrise!” he announced with a boyish grin. “My first in ages.”
She blinked at the bluff they were standing on. “How?”
“Night class. You were brilliant.”
She gaped at the man silhouetted by the sun. “Who?”
He lifted his arms slowly. “Got an updraft to catch. Thanks for showing me the light.”
He suddenly imploded into a peregrine falcon and lifted on the elevator of air rising from the sunlit bluffs.
24
Live Fire
At the fire academy, two trucks—a ladder and a pumper—sirened along the row of cinder-block buildings designed to duplicate the fires New York firefighters faced. The trucks lurched to a halt in front of a four-floor building known as a “taxpayer” because it had a business on the ground floor and apartments above it. Smoke trailed from two top floors. Geared up and ready to fight fire, Morning and his crew leaped from the trucks.
As the crew grabbed their irons, water cans, and various equipment, a bone-chilling cry for help burst from the building’s top floor.
“Whoa, that sounded real!” Armando shouted.
Morning wondered if everyone else on the crew was just as jacked with adrenaline as he was. Another terrifying cry for help banged the probies’ eyes wider.
Captain Clancy stepped out of an operations command truck. “Those are real flames and real screams,” heinformed them. “To get you water lilies ready for the real deal, we’re throwin’ all the reality we can at you.”
Another shriek ripped the air.
“So that’s
real
?” Armando asked.
“Absolutely, as real as recordings get.” Another scream sounded, making Clancy grin. “I love it when they intro a new mix; it even gives
me
the chills.” He got back to business. “Okay, tanker piglets, ready to do a victim search and knock down some fire?”
“Yes, sir!” the probies chorused.
Clancy turned to Morning’s unit: a half-dozen probies near the ladder truck. “Team A, your job’s simple as VES: vent, enter, search.” He turned to the group by the pumper. “Team B, you’re on fire repression. It’s time to see what you hose jockeys are made of.”
“Yes, sir!” the probies shouted.
Clancy pointed at Morning. “McCobb, take the point on rescue, call it as it goes, and don’t screw up. I got cameras all over the building trackin’ every move. After mop-up, we look at game films.” Another scream ripped the air. “Now go eat smoke and bring home the bacon!”
Morning assigned two probies to breach the roll-down gate locking up the street-level entrance and two more to search the ground floor. He led the others through the tenant entrance, and they used a “bunny tool” with a hydraulic piston to kick the door open. As he led the team up the stairs toward the screams, he ordered two more probies to reconnoiter the
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