Branded: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)

while the two trucks behind us pull the hoses and work on containment until we can get out,” Chief says, as he takes a sharp turn into the neighborhood that resides at the top of the hill.
We quickly run through what little of a plan we can throw together, because once the wheels stop and we move into action, it’s got to happen in the blink of an eye.
When all of this started last week, firehouses across the state of the California and even into Nevada were pulled in to try to keep this from becoming the catastrophe it already has.
From San Francisco, to Orange County, San Jose, and my home, Sunnyville, we’ve banded together as brothers, as one team. There’s a mix of gear, of all colors, with multiple different patches, badges, and equipment, making it more than difficult to keep track or even remember who anyone is. I don’t even try. Right now, everyone is a stranger I have to trust with my life. It’s not the easiest thing to accomplish, but I have to do what is needed to make sure everyone is safe.
The truck grinds to a stop and everything explodes into high speed, into organized chaos.
The houses sit on a stretch of road that curves into a cul-de-sac at the back. Five houses down each side and caddy-cornered at the end. It’s hard to even tell what the scenery is like around them because all there is now is soot, ash, smoke, and fire.
With a partner on my six, I take off on foot toward the house in the far left corner. It’s the most at risk, so I need to ensure everyone is safe and it is empty.
Running in full gear is a feat, and not as easy as it looks, but the pure adrenaline pumping into my blood right now fuels me when the lack of food, water, and rest threaten to send me to the ground.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I hear from behind me as we are finally close enough to the house to see the true damage. The entire backside is completely engulfed, nearly to the point of a lost cause, but the scream coming from the interior is all I need to hear before I head straight inside.
The smoke is thick and black, making it impossible to see anything even a few inches in front of my face.
It’s a two-story home with a long hallway that leads straight back from the front door, and it’s glowing red and orange, telling me anything past the stairway to my right is already too far gone.
“Fire Department,” I shout out. “Is anyone there? Make some kind of noise so I can hear you.”
“Help him!”
The shrill cry is coming from upstairs. It’s loud and scared then followed by multiple coughs.
“Clear the bottom rooms!” I tell my partner behind me, pointing to the other side of the house that is still reachable. “I’m going up.”
“This place is going to go, man. In. Clear. Out,” he repeats to me. “We have to hurry.”
“Clear it and go. I have to go up!”
A scream cries out from upstairs again, followed by repeated banging. My feet begin to move of their own volition, climbing the stairs two at a time, even with the extra seventy-five pounds strapped to me in the form of air and equipment.
With each step toward the second floor, the air is thicker, hotter, and more miserable. The paint on the walls is peeling and the carpet is caked in black soot. I can see what the home used to be in small sections that the fire has mysteriously avoided. A photo hanging on the wall, and a piece of clothing tossed over the railing of the stairs. Signs of life that once was, before tonight.
“SFD!” I call out. “Is anyone up here?” I shout into the ether, knowing the answer, but I just need to know where to go.
“Help him! Please! He won’t answer me!”
The panicked cries are coming from my right, so I burst into action.
At the far end of the hall, I can make out the shape of someone, a woman I think, based on the voice, banging and kicking on a door.
“Jason! Open the door! Get up! Talk to me!” She is frantic, trying to scream between coughs. If she is in here, breathing in the smoke much longer, she won’t make it. I’ve seen people collapse from far less time trapped in the smoke.
“Ma’am!” I touch her arm. “Come on! I need to get you out of here. You can’t be in here.”
She yanks her arm out of my reach. “Don’t touch me. My brother is in there! I can’t get him to wake up! The door is locked. He isn’t saying anything.” She turns away from me and starts beating on the door again.
“Martinez!” I shout out, hoping he can hear me downstairs. “I have someone! Come get her out. She says there’s someone else in here. Unresponsive.”
“No! I’m not leaving this house without him. Don’t you dare try to make me.”
“Ma’am, with all due respect, this house is going to collapse any second now! Unless you intend on dying here, you need to get the fuck out!”
I can hear the cracking of wood in portions of the house that we can’t see; telling me the framing is giving in to the flames. Unless we move soon, we are all gone.
“I don’t…” She coughs harshly. It’s deep and guttural, and she reaches out to brace herself on the wall. “I don’t care. He’s just a kid.”
“Whoa.” I reach out and grab her before she loses her balance. “He’s a kid? How old?”
“Seventeen.”
I look at the door, assess as quickly as I can, then make the decision to try to break it down.
She isn’t going to let me take her down first, and frankly, there is no time.
“I need you to lay on the ground, as flat as you can. You need to be away from the smoke.”
“Just get him,” she says,