The instructors had warned them the job would be a baptism of fire. You could train all you wanted but the minute you put the uniform on and you were faced with a real situation everything you thought you’d learned in the academy slipped away like smoke or you choked on it. He hadn’t been kidding.

Staring up at the building through the choking black plumes of smoke Mason tried to remind himself why he’d gone to the academy in the first place. It hadn’t been for money or glory, he could’ve stayed in Florida and had the former, continuing to rely on his trust fund while he’d bummed around on the beach and despite the headlines big saves had once garnered there wasn’t much of the latter in the job. You did it because it was a calling, ingrained practically from birth for some or driven deep by some tragedy or another for others.

Glancing down at his hands, Mason curled them into fists inside their gloves. It had been the latter for him. What he’d done to Leo in Florida, Leo who was now finally back on his feet from the reports he got from other friends. This was the one bright spot out of what had happened there, well, the second.

His green eyes swept for Bree’s familiar form as firefighters got closer around the building, trying to drive back what they could of the blaze but reluctant to breach the perimeter again after the collapse in the rear of the building. She’d be there amongst them, trying to find some way in, to knock this back and see if there was any way they could still pull anybody alive from what was left of the place.

As rookie he’d been put on the perimeter. Watch the water pressure, keep an eye on the big picture. Keep people back. The scut work but when it was something like this you were almost thankful for it. Mason took a couple of steps to the right, eyes dropping to the hoses snaking across the street from the hydrants. Every single one in reach was open wide bore now, pumping every they had into the blaze. Maybe if it wasn’t lockdown, if people hadn’t been home this wouldn’t have happened in the first place but you couldn’t say anything with certainty. Not anymore. The virus had driven everything so far beyond the norm that he wasn’t sure what normal even looked like anymore.

It sure as hell felt it shouldn’t have looked like this.

Mason heard another vehicle pull up behind him, twisted just far enough to see one of the paramedics starting past him. He raised a gloved hand, brushed the inch of bare skin over his mouth before he gestured to a space set aside on the sidewalk opposite the building. ”The Captain wants you guys set up over there. He’s got a couple of people already started on triage.” There had been people pouring out of the building when the first truck had arrived but it had slowed, stopped as the fire had gotten more of a grip on the building. At the look they shot him, he shook his head, his expression grim. There had to be more people in there, people who weren’t likely to make it out.

He was stepping aside again, frowning as he saw motion at one corner of the building, then he was thrown forward. Mason stumbled a step, turned round already scowling. A scoffing laugh rolled out of him as he stared at her. ”I’m in your way? You’re the one who wasn’t looking where you were going. Or looking at anything obviously. Shit.” The defibrillator started to slip off the gurney. He made a grab for it, almost bobbled the damn thing as he heard a yell behind him. A figure silhouetted against a wall of flame, fists beating at the glass, trying to shatter it. Nobody within reach, everybody converging at the other corner of the building as it looked like the Captain had them ready to try and push forward into the lobby at least. ”Get that and come on,” he hollered at the paramedic behind him, shoving the defib into place roughly before he snatched his helmet up off of the ground and took off at a run. Some voice in the back of his head warned him this was probably stupid but he wasn’t about to stand and watch someone else die in this blaze.

Tagged: Artemis Bexley * Word Count: 750