Rescued By The Firefighter. Catherine Lanigan
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“Beatrice?” Rand called as he moved quickly toward her.
“Yes! Yes!”
“Don’t move. I’m coming in to get you,” he said, just as a sharp crack sounded. He glanced up.
An enormous limb from a forty-foot sycamore tree broke off. Flames waved long and wide from the limb, looking like amber silk scarves as it sailed straight for Beatrice and the little boy.
She dashed toward Rand, but her foot caught on an exposed tree root. She fell to the ground, still holding the crying little boy.
“Bee—!” Rand never got out the rest of her name as he bolted forward. In three long strides he was at her side. “Beatrice. I’m here,” he said. Then he looked at the boy. “Eli, don’t be afraid. I have you now.”
“It’s okay, Eli,” she said softly as she lifted her face from Eli to Rand.
He gazed into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. “I can take the boy.”
“No!” Eli cried. “I want to stay with Miss Beatrice.”
“It’s okay, Eli. He’s come to save us. You’ll be fine,” she said, massaging Eli’s back. Then she handed Eli to Rand. “Thank you,” she said as she put her hand on her ankle, which was swelling before his eyes.
“Can you walk?”
“I don’t know.”
“Here. Take my hand. I’ll help you up.”
Rand eased her to a standing position. “Put your weight on it. Test it.”
Gingerly, she stood. “Agh!” She flung back her head. “I think I’m going to throw up. The pain...”
“It’s probably broken,” he assessed. “Just lean on me.”
“Okay.” She nodded. He could tell she was bravely fighting tears.
Finally getting her steady and with Eli in his arms, he turned just as another large tree limb fell from above.
Rand instantly chided himself. He hadn’t heard the crack. His instinctual “alert” system had faltered for a fraction of a second while he’d focused on Beatrice. He shouldn’t have done that. He should have kept all his senses amped.
The limb fell behind them.
He checked Beatrice and he realized that the limb had skimmed her back. Her hair and the back of her T-shirt were on fire.
“Help! Help me!” she screamed and grabbed her hair. She hobbled and nearly fell again.
Rand instantly put Eli on the ground.
“Stay!” he said roughly and firmly.
Eli stopped crying as terror and submission rooted him to the spot.
With lightning speed, Rand grabbed Beatrice and pushed her to the ground. He batted her hair and put out the flames. He rolled on top of her back and extinguished her burning shirt. Once she was safe, he examined her quickly and decided she would have some burns but the skin was not charred. He’d gotten to her soon enough.
Quickly, he stood, reached down and pulled her to her feet. “My ankle...it’s worse,” she groaned painfully, her face contorted.
He swooped Eli off the ground and handed him to Beatrice. “Hold him close.” Then Rand lifted her left arm. “Put your arm around my neck.”
“But...”
“Now! We have to go!” he ordered.
He hoisted them both firmly against his chest. He was surprised how light they seemed. He’d never carried two people at once. She was tall, though quite slim. The boy was very thin. Still, his best guess was that his adrenaline was working overtime. Again. It was a rush.
Beatrice’s arm clutched his neck as she cradled Eli between them both. The boy had stopped screaming.
Just as they walked out of the tiny clearing, a massive pine fell with an earthshaking thud, covering the oasis they’d found for the brief moment they’d needed it.
He walked as quickly as he could over burning tree limbs and smoldering brush.
One more second in that clearing and they all would have been hit. They might never have made it out. The kid would have been crushed if the pine fell on him.
But they had made it. Rand’s mother would have said it was a miracle.
Rand would have to agree with her.
Still, he was just doing his job.
This kind of extraction was not new for him. But it was never routine. The circumstances were always different, but the pounding, throttling sense of triumph that shot through his veins was always the same. This was why he did what he did. This was why he chose to risk his life. He was saving lives.
Someone would live—perhaps live better than they had before—because he’d been there at the instant between life and death.
Rand walked through the last of the flames and felt the spray of water from the hose lines. As if walking out of another dimension, he heard Captain Bolton shouting orders to the team over the deafening sound of gushing water.
Two of the team had moved one hose to the far right of the fire and were advancing toward the center from the west, where a slight night breeze had originated.
Two others were hosing from the opposite direction.
An EMT crew and their ambulance had arrived. He spotted Maisie off to the side and behind the wildfire engine.
Joy leaped into her face as she saw them. She threw her hands in the air and then clamped them down on top of her head. “Beatrice! Eli!”
Maisie raced toward them.
The EMT crew got there first with a stretcher and oxygen.
“Thanks, guys,” Rand said to the EMT crew as he lowered both Beatrice and Eli onto the stretcher. He looked down at Beatrice. “You’ll be okay now. These guys are the top gun.”
He noticed that she never let go of Eli, and the little boy clung to her like a monkey.
To the EMT, he said, “Possible broken ankle or foot. Burns on her back.”
“We’ll check it out,” the taller of the EMTs said and immediately started to take off Beatrice’s shoe.
“You’ll be fine,” Rand assured her again.
Her blue eyes were wide as she looked up at him pleadingly.
“What is it?”
“Chris. He’s still in there.”
Rand nodded, taking off his glove. “I know, Bee.” He touched her face where a black mark slashed her cheek. The black soot smeared his fingertips.
Rand stood, and as he did she reached out and took his hand. She had a surprisingly strong grip. “What?” he asked.
“Just...thank you. Now, go.”
Rand dropped her hand and raced away, wondering if the tear he’d seen was gratitude or smoke in Beatrice’s eye.
“CHRIS!”
Rand ran into the forest, the flames dying around him as the fire crew blasted water through the trees. He pushed through the piles of smoldering pine nettles and over the downed limb that had almost killed Beatrice, Eli and him.
As a firefighter the smell of wet earth always gave Rand hope. But would he find the boy in time? Did he even want to be found?
“Chris!” he yelled into the shock of burned and blackened trees,