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“Duty Called”
by Andrew Michael Flynn

                Of course there was apprehension. Not a day goes by in a firefighter’s life where some element of danger peers its face in. Harold didn’t think too much of it though. He was able to convert this unquantifiable energy into adrenaline and knew how to use it to his advantage. This would get him through his duty. This would get him through the fire.

                “Yeah, we’re about 15 miles out,” his battalion chief said as they cautiously barreled down the interstate. “You’re ready for this, Harry.”

                “Ten-four, Chief,” Harold said. “What they’re saying about the town can’t sway me, or really any of my crew. We’re one, and that’s what we are.”

                “Good,” the Chief said. “Because this one is going to be memorable. Crews already on the ground are calling it an all-timer.”

                Everyone in the truck shut up and coasted the last miles into the swell of the fire. While it was on the other side of the mountain, Harold felt that pinch of adrenaline seep in just a little bit more. He got his helmet on and readied himself for what was right ahead.

***

                There was still a couple hours of sunlight left. Most of it was obscured by the incredible smoke and fire that had created its own weather system around the valiant crews that fought it.

                Winds picked up as the rage went on. Voices of, “This is getting brutal,” and, “It’s spreading fast, get around it!” filled the high-pressured air. Harold held his positions as best he could, even though he knew they were losing what small semblance of control they had. The heat was too intense.

                Flames danced their way closer to the crew, and somehow surrounded them like a pack of relentless hyenas. What in nature would cause this pure hellacious atmosphere? Harold kept his head up as he began to hear cries of burning pain from his crew mates. It was inside of the same moment that he knew he had to bail out, but there was nowhere to turn.

                The protective fire shield was quickly deployed, and Harold wrapped himself in it as he tried to become one with the earth below. Sadly enough, Harold was still enveloped by the elements around him.

***

                “We’re getting some terrible news from the town of Tapatio just now,” said the breakroom television that hung in the empty firehouse.

                “Channel 7 is going to bring you every angle of this developing story. Let’s go to Jamie Decker, who is on the scene with more. Jamie?”

                “That’s right, Tom, I stand here a few miles away from what was the town of Tapatio. Who can say how really fast that the fire really spread over the mountain here, just behind our shot here, but it did, and the preliminary reports are devastating. We’re hearing that 18 or 19 fire crew members, and again, let me state this to be very preliminary, however it has been confirmed by officials in charge that this many lives have apparently been lost, fighting this fire. Tom?”

                “Are you hearing from anyone on the ground there when there may be a confirmation of some sort, Jamie?”

                “As of right now, that is not the case, Tom. Crews are being brought in from all stations across the Southwest to get a handle on this nightmare of a fire. Everything else seems secondary.”

***

                Jason woke from his hotel bed to a buzzing cell phone. He glanced at it, and there were dozens of text messages and missed phone calls waiting for him to be answered. He sprung out of bed and opened the curtains, which revealed a picturesque landscape of beaches and tides. He dialed his cell phone.

                “Frank, yeah, it’s me. I just woke. Tell me it’s not as bad as these texts are reading.”

                Silence on the line. “There aren’t words right now. Get back to the station, leave where you are now.” The line dropped.

                Inside of twenty minutes, Jason was in a cab heading to the airport. “And what brings you in this hurry this morning, young man?” the cabbie asked conversationally.

                “Really bad news from home. You’ll probably hear about it if you haven’t already. I’m a member of a special fire crew that specializes in extreme heat fires, and some of my crew, or all of them, uh, I don’t know, something happened.”

                The cabbie choked up. He had heard the news earlier that morning. He floored it all the way to the airport.

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