Chapter Ten (Enter Sandman)

Previously, on "Heat":
Ch. 9 (Chances)
-Joseph shares the first evidence of arson at the meeting,
urging everyone to keep their eyes open for potential leads.
-He introduced Nate and Austin Morgan as the new crewmembers.
-Brooke, Jamie and Jessica welcome their new roommate Hannah Pruit over lunch.
-Hannah and Brooke were both cast in Real World, Sunset Valley.
-Sarah made spaghetti for the fire department to welcome Luke back.
-She asked Luke about his trip to Appaloosa,
 but he seemed unusually private and distant.

*Strong language*


Location: Bridgeport Community Fire Department
Date: Friday, 11/4/2011
Time: 3:35 p.m.

"Let's go, everyone! Move it, move it!" The urgency in Marley's voice fights head-on with the screeching sound that penetrates through every wall in the building.  The piercing cry of the fire alarm shatters an otherwise peaceful afternoon in the firestation.  Joseph's words at the meeting are still fresh in everyone's mind, and this dispatch seems to carry a new meaning.  With his age and weak heart, Marley was not able to keep up with the physical demands of responding to emergencies during his first year as a fireman.  But his attention to detail and uncanny knowledge of every street and building structure in Bridgeport makes him the perfect person for dispatches and investigations.

"Marley, what's the location?" James asks as he picks up his radio.  It has been charging since the last meeting.

"56 Brommer Drive. It's past the bridge.  Residential neighborhood."

"56 Brommer Drive. All available units standby." James' voice echoes out from the radio as he waits for a response.


"Location is on the outskirts, about eight miles from us.  The call was three minutes ago.  The boys are here.  Tell them to move, now!" Joseph orders as he frantically smooths out the map of Bridgeport.  He saw this day coming, when they get the next dispatch, knowing it could be another arson.  But he can't help but feel sick over his sons as he listens to the rumble of a running firetruck.  He wants to go with them on this dispatch but he needs to stay behind to watch for possible leads.  He and Marley still have loads of reports to sort through.  Still, as a parent, he tells himself to let go, and that the boys will be fine.  They need to learn the ropes on their own.

"All available units must be departing now. Going on three minutes since dispatch." Margaret explains over the radio, her voice as urgent as the fire alarm deafening everyone's ears.

"Say your prayers, little one

Don't forget, my son

To include everyone

I tuck you in

Warm within

Keep you free from sin

'Til the sandman he comes"

Location: 56 Brommer Drive
Time: 3:46 p.m.

The fresh, dewy fall air mingling with the afternoon fog is contaminated by thick smoke and haze.  Jake's pulse races as he leaps out of the firetruck, nearly tripping over himself as he witnesses the magnitude of the fire.  If it wasn't for the bright cherry red color of the emergency vehicles, he wouldn't even know where the front of the house is.  He's never seen anything like this.  It seems the whole house is surrounded by smoke, not just a section or two, unlike the apartment lobby.  He wonders if anyone is at home.  How would they enter?  How would they get anyone out?

Jake feels a knot in his stomach as he ponders the idea...that this could be planned.  How could anyone purposely burn someone's house down? What kind of person would do something like this? To destroy someone's property and hurt innocent people?  This very thought makes him apprehensive as fear starts to creep through his mind.  He tries to focus on saving the house, and this slowly brings his courage back.  After all, that's what his job is.  And if he's lucky, he might even be able to save someone.  But he hopes he will never have to get to that point.


Through the gray smoke, Jake can make out parts of the living room, which looks like the living remnants of hell.  It is being swallowed up by red, orange and yellow demons dancing in ecstasy, taunting him as he helplessly watches sofas, chairs, tables, electronic devices and bookshelves get eaten alive.  They seem to scream out to him, begging for him to break in to be saved, but an explosion from the window makes him draw back in uncertainty.  He can see shards of glass fall on the patio chair and brick pavement.  A gush of intense heat and smoke overtake his face, causing him to cry out in agony.  For a moment, the firehose slips away from his grasp as he tries to feel his face.  He watches the hose wriggle around like a beheaded snake, spewing water everywhere.

"Help me, please!!" The faint cries of a man sobers Jake from his own pain as he tolerates the growing sting from his cheeks.  It's becoming painful for him to keeps his eyes open as the smoke irritates his vision, as well as his lungs, forcing him to make an effort to breathe. He can make out the body of the person in distress, who is frantically hanging on to the metal balcony railings.

"Sir, try to move to the corner of the balcony.  Whatever you do, do not jump! I need to get the ladder!" Jake sprints towards the firetruck in concern, praying for the man's sanity during the precious seconds that he has to wait for help.  People are known to panic during a fire when they are given instructions, especially when waiting to be rescued, and they end up jumping from the burning building.


"Jake, two minutes!!" Luke warns with all that his throat can muster as he dashes through flames enveloping the kitchen area.  He knew it would take longer for them to arrive on scene with the distance, but he didn't expect the fire to get this bad this soon.  It should not take them more than five minutes to reach a location, knowing how rapid the flames can spread, increasing the buildings and more importantly, lives at stake.  Knowing the last two fires have been linked to works of possible arson, his gripping concern grows with every pound of his heart and push of his feet.

"I need to get this man to safety! Luke, cover me!" The metal surface of the ladder bangs against the railings as Jake climbs up to the balcony.

 "Got it!" Luke's eyes focus on the firehose trashing wildly on the ground.  How long has it been left like this?  With one swift move of his foot, he steps on the hose, putting all his weight on it just enough to grab it with his hand.  As he watches the stream of water enter the broken living room window, the haze overtakes most of his sight.  He knows he can't move too close to the flames or it will overheat his turnouts but at this point, this seems to be the only way he can enter the first floor.  Just as the flames die out in the living room, he kicks the front door open, aiming the water directly at the flames rushing out to greet him.

"Going on one minute!" Nate's voice can be heard from a distance.



"I'm trapped! Somebody help! Anybody!" A man can be heard from a distance, coughing as his voice competes with the buzzing roar of flames gnawing through the walls of the second floor.  Luke is finally inside, but he still has to rush up the stairs.  Knowing that time is running out, he trudges through the blaze attempting to hold him hostage with every step, his skin uncomfortable, with every breath becoming increasingly difficult.  He can hear every crackle and pop of wood being beaten by flames, along with sporadic bursts of valuable objects disintegrating.  This time, people's lives are in danger, and failure is no longer an option.  He has less than a minute to decide which life is more important: his or a stranger's.  But the vulnerability in the poor man's voice stir something in his soul, this deep need to protect, and he cannot just walk away.

"I'm coming! Hang in there!" Luke briefly scans the hazy hallway before he opens a bedroom door but there is no one in sight.  His ears follow the faint cries as he flings open door after door, only to find them empty and completely filled with smoke.

"Where are you?" Luke ask in desperation, knowing seconds are ticking down to his own safety.  He can feel his lungs tighten with each labored breath.  His eyes are watering from the intense fumes swarming his face.

"I'm...in the west wing..." The man's voice is barely audible, every word a struggle. "Hurry...please..."

"Keep talking! I'm coming in!" Luke uses up every ounce of strength he has left in his body to break the door open with an ax, watching the smoke creeping out from between the cracks.  Every necessary blow is another second wasted. He must get to the victim as their lives hang on a thin thread.

There is no response.

Shit, shit!!



Upon kicking the door open, a sharp gust of heavy smoke escapes, causing Luke to try to clear out his lungs with deep coughs.  His turnouts are becoming a burden from the uncomfortable heat, making his skin burn, so he takes off his jacket.  His faltering strength is also making his protective gear feel very heavy, as if he's carrying an extra fifty pounds on his back.  But nothing could have prepared him for the sight of the man lying on the floor, unmoving.  Did he take too long?  Should he have gone straight to him instead of helping Jake? Precious seconds continue to leave his side as he rushes towards the unconscious victim.  Luke needs to resuscitate him now, but  if he does it in this room, his own lungs will start to fail from the prolonged exposure to smoke.

"Sir, are you okay? Talk to me." He attempts to awaken consciousness in the victim as he checks his pulse, but he only finds faint, irregular beats.  He is still alive, but barely.  Luke must make a decision.  He has ten seconds to leave the building or open up this man's airways through mouth to mouth.  He hardly has enough strength to carry his own body, but to carry another person through the blaze without his turnout jacket?

God help me, we are going to walk out of here. Failure is not an option.



Everything becomes a blur as Luke picks up the victim in his arms, taking in a deep breath as he navigates through the smoke and heat.  Sweat drips down his downtrodden face as the weight of the man pulls every muscle in his body, causing his arms to shake.  But he continues to hold him tight, refusing to let go or listen to the cries of his own weak body as he continues to cough incessantly, his lungs feeling like they are going to explode.  All of the weightlifting he's done in his life has come down to this moment, and now he truly understands the concept of "no pain, no gain".  Each push of his leg feels like a slow descent down a quicksand, tempting him to give in and surrender.  Every foot matters, every step counts.  They must make it to safety.  He can feel his knuckles crack under the man's leg with every vein in his body throbbing, ready to burst.

"Luke, let's go! Almost there, bro!" The sound of Nate's voice warms his heart, and for a moment, he feels a temporary surge of energy.  It may be just enough to carry him through, enough to escape this crumbling house.  A sense of guilt pang his sore heart as he thinks about what would happen if he let the red dragon conquer him. The death of a victim.  His death.  What about his family? What about his friends? What about...Lyn? No. I can't leave Lyn. She needs me.

"Something's wrong

Shut the light

Heavy thoughts tonight

And they aren't 

Of snow white

Dreams of war

Dreams of lies
Dreams of dragon's fire"

Location: Pruit Realty, Inc.
Time: 5:07 p.m.

"It's done, Mr. Pruit." The man in the brown suit declares, his voice low and careful, as he eases back into the leather chair.  Just like a dog showing respect for its alpha, he makes sure he keeps his head slightly angled low, never to appear insubordinate.

"Good. This should teach Mr. Rossi to stay out of our way. " The man with shoulder length, salt and pepper hair smiles as if he's pleased with what he hears.  He sits back in his chair with ease, proud of what took years for him to build: the largest real estate company in Bridgeport.  Residential or commercial, he has closed properties as low as five figures to multi-millions.

"Any victims on any of the jobs?" Mr. Pruit asks the man in the blue suit.

"Not the last five.  But there are two men in the hospital from today's job.  No word on their condition yet." The man in the blue suit looks in his superior's eyes briefly, then looks away.



Mr. Pruit shakes his head as he closes his eyes, his nostrils flaring with every quickening breath.  With a creak of his leather chair, he leans forward as he places his elbows on the desk.  His hands reach his temples as he massages them slowly.  Both men sit back nervously, knowing something has gone awry.  Mr. Pruit is a man of controlled emotions, no matter what a situation brings, but when he starts massaging his temples, it means he is  going to teach someone a lesson.  A sometimes physically painful lesson.

"No victims.  Did I not make it clear?" The real estate mogul's brown eyes are piercing, yet collected.  His instinct is to stand up and slam his hands on the desk, but what good would that type of scene do? Emotions are a sign of weakness, and if he leaks any of it, that means he is losing control.  He believes there are more effective methods to get his point across.

"Yes, sir.  But you wanted to make a state--" The man in the blue suit cautiously explains but is quickly interrupted.

"You're correct.  But do you know what happens when a victim is involved?"

"Yes--"

"No, you don't.  If you did, you would not be this fucking careless."



Location: Mike's Cornerstore
Time: 5:46 p.m.

After a grueling battle with today's fire, Nate stops by the grocery store to buy cough drops and honey for Luke's throat.  Watching his brother carry out a victim in his arms, the battered look in his eyes as he struggled to walk, touched a private spot in Nate's heart.  Luke could have very well died today.  He was nearly a minute past the point of safety.  He could have suffered serious burns, lung damage and heart failure from pushing his body's boundaries.  My dad does this everyday.  How many lives has he saved? How often did he almost die?  But such is the life of a firefighter.  Nate knew this going in, and this is the very reason why he admires his father.

As he approaches the entrance to the store, a vision in white stops him in his tracks.  His eyes find the two-inch heels that hold her shapely legs.  They're not long, but they are pleasantly meaty.  He loves curves in a woman.  Onward to her white pleated skirt, which accentuates her ass and flows nicely with the slight arch on the small of her back.  Her back.  The graceful indentation, revealing a smooth, alabaster skin, which contrasts nicely with her Venusian hair.  It reminds him of silken strands of a sunset bursting in sienna and mahogany.  For the first time, he is completely speechless at the sight of a stranger.



Nate knows he's decent looking, but nowhere near like his brother Luke.  Or at least he believes so.  He always felt like the oddball in the family, a middle child and all.  He doesn't have Luke's physique or Jake's boyish looks but he tries to let his personality shine.  People don't really take boys in glasses seriously, so he's had to stand out in his own way, even with pervy jokes.  But does he really stand a chance with this goddess in front of him? If her face is even remotely as pleasing as her backside, he will kick himself for not trying to...do something.  Anything.

He quietly slips next to her, trying not to look too obvious.  Her head seems to be focusing on the fresh produce, particularly the golden yellow pineapples.  Could that be her favorite fruit? How could he break the ice without looking like a total creeper? Taking a long, measured breath, he finds the courage to seek her eyes.

"You know, I could never figure out how to cut pineapples." The moment the words escape his lips, he feels a pang of regret.  Cutting pineapples? Really? He couldn't come up with something better than cutting pineapples?



When the sound of his voice startles her, she looks in his direction.  For a moment, his breath seems stuck in his throat.  Her deep blue eyes, reminiscent of a trip in the middle of the ocean, catch his.  They probe him in surprise, pulling him in like fish caught in a hook, slowly submerging in dark blue waters.  She lets out a soft laugh as she looks away, only to return his unrelenting gaze.  She's even more beautiful than he expected, with fiery waves of hair delicately framing her face.  Nate isn't one to stare or ogle, but this time, he feels helpless in her presence.  There's something alluring about the angle of her jawline, as if it's just waiting to be warmed by his lips.  Who is this girl? Why haven't I seen her before?

"Oh...hi." She says shyly as her cheeks become a very faint crimson.

"Hi..." Words seem to escape Nate's mind.  This seems to be the only thing he can think of.

"I suck at cutting them too.  But they are so good, aren't they?" The mysterious girl asks. This time, she doesn't look away.  Nate can feel his heart flutter as he feels every inch of her gaze on him, from his boots to his stomach, his chest, all the way up his lips, before they return to his pale blue eyes.

"What is?" He feels hypnotized, and he can't even remember what she said.

"Pineapples, silly!" She laughs.

"Ohhh...right.  Yeah." Nate feels even more stupid now, like a tongue-tied schoolboy.  He usually knows what to say to women.  In fact, he can come up with the best lines.  But somehow, she has stolen this ability from him.

"I'm Hannah by the way." She says with a smile, not moving one inch.

"Hannah...that's a beautiful name." He moves another inch towards her, holding her gaze to show his sincerity.  He loves the sound of her name.  It suits her.  There's something about her he can't put his finger on, but at this point, he's just glad the heavens took mercy on them, enough to let them meet.

"Thank you. And yours?"

"Nate."



Luke wishes he hadn't opened the door.  There she is, standing in front of him, her long strawberry blonde hair draping over her breasts, just as he remembers. What is she doing there?  He can feel the cry of his pulse as he looks into her gray eyes, the very same eyes that made him feel weak...and invincible at the same time.  He had forgotten, or at least made himself forget everything that had to do with her.  Her smile, her voice, the way her body moved with his so gracefully in moments of heat, as if they were made for each other.

"Luke..." She whispers his name like an angel whispering to the gods, holding his eyes captive, not letting him move another inch.  A subtle smile forms on her face as she takes one step.

He had forgotten.  Until now.

"Exit light

Enter night

Take my hand

We're off to

Never never-land"

*Copyright 2013 Lyn C.S.*
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"Enter Sandman" by Metallica
Video by: Brandon Gonzales