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by Seadog Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #1503861
My try at the latest Fantasy Newsletter Challenge
Fantasy Newsletter Challenge

The Breath of the Beast

Things were finally starting to quiet down at the fire station after a pretty busy day.  We had been out on a couple of alarm sounding calls early in the day then picked up four EMS calls. It seems the flu has finally made an appearance.  We finished out the day doing block inspections.  Now it was time to make some supper and hope for a quiet night.  It was Jimmy’s turn to cook so I was giving him a hand putting his famous beef stew together while he made the biscuits.  Not a bad combination for a cold winter’s evening.

We managed to get the stew made, table set, and biscuits out of the oven just before the warning blow sounded.  That single ring of the bell echoed throughout the station telling everyone, “no supper, not just yet.”  We scrambled to the truck room to get our gear on as the alert tone went off.  Dispatch was reporting a working structure fire on the east end of town.  It was going to be a bit of a ride for us and I hoped the traffic wouldn’t be too bad.

I had managed to grab a biscuit for the ride, but was having trouble holding onto it and getting my air pack on at the same time.  I was riding third on the engine, behind our officer, Lt. Hamlin; and Jimmy was riding fourth, behind our driver/operator, Grumpy.  Grumpy was his nickname but it suited him and he never really complained about it so it stuck.  As I stuffed the remainder of the biscuit into my mouth I looked over at Jimmy and gave him a thumbs-up, letting him know I thought it was pretty good.

As the engine wove through heavy rush hour traffic we listened to the initial reports coming in from the first due apparatus; a three story wood frame tenement with multiple exposures, reported to be abandoned, with fire showing on the third floor.  The captain on Engine 14 was taking command and initiating primary search and firefighting operations.  It sounded like we might be there for a while.

We rounded the corner from Elm Street onto Woodbine, where the fire was, the engine stopped and Jimmy and I got off to hook the hydrant so we would have our own water supply.  After dressing the hydrant and roping the five inch hose to it, I jumped back on the engine as it continued its short trip to the fire building, leaving Jimmy behind to finish hooking up the hose and turning on the water once Grumpy was ready.

We pulled up to the fire scene and started work.  Our assignment was to take a hand line to the second floor and cut off any of the fire’s downward extension.  As I pulled one of our inch and three quarter lines, flaking it out behind me, I heard the engine’s air horn sound letting Jimmy know it was time to turn the hydrant on and beat feet back to the engine.  He arrived in time to take second position on the line, behind me and in front of the Lt. as we Scotted up and made entry into the building.

The first floor wasn’t bad at all.  No real smoke to speak of and very little heat.  We made our way to the stairwell on the left, or B, side of the building and started climbing the stairs.  Now things were starting to get interesting.  Heavy black smoke was banking down from the ceiling making visibility more difficult.  Something nasty had to be burning in order to make this much acrid smoke.  We managed to make our way to the small landing just outside the second floor apartment.  The door was open and smoke was belching out of it.

The Lt. called Grumpy on the radio telling him to charge our line and then told us to move into the apartment and find the seat of the fire.  Since our visibility wasn’t too bad we figured the fire must have vented itself through the roof and windows, allowing the smoke to escape, leaving us a fairly good view of the place.  Fire was spreading across the ceiling of one very open and very long room.  It must have been renovated at some point because a building of this style and age didn’t usually have a room this wide open.  We could make out a door at the far end of the room.  It was open and we could see the room and its contents all ablaze.  That’s where we were headed. 

As we crawled on our hands and knees below the smoke there wasn’t any real change to the fire conditions or activity until we were about ten feet from the door.  I was just about to open the nozzle and hit it with the water when a blast of fire, heat, and smoke came through it knocking all three of us back a bit.  I was able to get the nozzle open and a fog water pattern formed so that we could be at least a little protected.  The sudden explosion of fire and smoke lasted about ten seconds then subsided.  I recovered my kneeling position, called out to Jimmy and the Lt. to check on them.  They regrouped as well and signaled “all good.” 

I changed the water pattern on the nozzle to a straight stream and poured everything I could get into to room.  We couldn’t hear water spraying off a wall or barrier inside as expected.  We had thought that it would be the exterior wall to the rear, C side, of the building, figuring the room to be a shallow office or closet.  Working the nozzle around the room I made my way through the door hoping to figure out what this place was, and that’s when things turned really strange.

As I crawled through the door I transitioned from a three story abandoned apartment building to what appeared to be a small village square.  I was outside and it was sunny.  There were people running and screaming past me, trying to escape from the flames.  A large communal hut with a thatched roof was on fire in front of me.  The nozzle still had water coming from it so I started laying down a strong stream.

Don’t ask me why I didn’t just back out of the area, because I can’t give a good answer.  Maybe it’s because I’m a firefighter and it’s my job to put out fires and help people.  Or maybe it’s because I’m a little numb from the shoulders up, who knows.  All I know is that there was a fire in front of me and I had the water and experience to put it out.

I was making some pretty good progress on the nearest section of the huts roof when the whole area was cast into a dark eerie shadow.  It lasted only a moment but it made me look up to see what had caused it.  If I thought that being transported to a village was odd, this was even more so.  Descending from the sky was a huge black dragon, its scaled body suspended between two leathery wings beating rhythmically as it set its clawed feet on the ground.  A roar erupted from its throat causing the ground under my feet and knees to shake. The air currents caused by his wings blew dirt and thatch all over the place.

Now is the time to back outta here, I thought to myself.  This was getting too weird, even for me.  As I started backing away the beast turned to me, seeing me for the first time I guess.  He could tell I had been working at putting the fire out and that seemed to perturb him, if one can tell from a dragon’s facial features and body language that he is perturbed.  I didn’t have too long to think about it because he turned his full body towards me and proceeded to blow flame and smoke in my direction.  Out of reflex I brought the hose around and was able to reduce the fire ball to almost nothing.  My gear and SCBA protected me from the rest.

As I turned to face him I moved the nozzle so as to try to hit it with the water stream and drive him away.  What I managed to do was hit him in the face.  In fact, I was able to get him just as he was about to blow another one of his fireballs at me.  The water must have surprised him because he staggered backwards.  His two large back legs crushed a hut under foot and his tail whipped wildly back and forth raising a cloud of dust.  He regained his balance and turned, spreading his wings and taking flight.  With that distraction gone I was able to refocus on the burning hut and put that fire out.  As soon as I was sure it was extinguished I backed up hoping that I would return to the abandoned apartment building.

Passing back through the doorway I could see I was back where I should be.  Jimmy was right there, and the Lt.  My air bottle alarm was going off telling me and everyone around that I was low on air.  The Lt. ordered us out of the building.  As I passed him on my way to the stairs he said, “Nice job on that room.”  All I could say was, “Thanks.”

As we left the building I couldn’t help thinking that maybe I had just imagined what had happened.  Yeah, that had to be it.  When we reached the engine, Grumpy came up to us to help with the air packs.  He grabbed my shoulder and said, “Hey, where the hell did all this hay and dirt come from?  They usin this place as a barn or somethin?”  All I could say was, “Yeah, it’s pretty strange up there.” 



Editorial Note:  The term "beat feet" means run fast. Maybe it's just a Northeast phrase. "Scotted up" means putting on our SCBA, Self Contained Breathing Apparatus, manufactured by Scott Corporation.
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