FSE

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Chapter 1 -Heat

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I started this story well over two years ago. I started many stories well over two years ago. I never finished them; life happened and kept me at bay. I've been through many ups and downs since the last story I submitted. I'm proud to say that I'm making a gradual return to writing. Hopefully, this chapter marks the end of my writers block. Please enjoy the first chapter in "Seeing Spots," my new short story.

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Aaron woke to the scream of fire alarms and the choking combination of heat and smoke. The Dalmatian tossed the covers off and rolled to the ground. His lungs and eyes burned, as he crawled to the door of his bedroom. He reached for the door knob but paused, he knew that his bedroom door might be all that was saving him from the flames of the fire. Aaron felt the door, it didn't feel hot. Opening the door, the spotted dog crawled out into the living room of his meager apartment, careful to keep lower than the ever encroaching ceiling of smoke. No matter how low he stayed, there was a stagnant heat that burned his lungs causing him to cough.

'Why aren't the fire suppression systems on?'

Crawling closer to the front door of his apartment, Aaron placed his paw against the surface before quickly pulling it back. The door was hot, that meant fire.

"Shit!" Aaron whispered to himself, rolling away from the door and crawling back to the center of his apartment. Aaron grabbed a rag and soaked it in water as he passed the kitchen, covering his muzzle and staying low. Crawling to his coffee table, the Dalmatian flailed a paw around searching for his phone, accidentally knocking to the ground. Crawling to where the phone was, Aaron squinted through the smoke and dialed 911.

"This is Emergency Services; please hold while you are transferred to an operator."

"Sure, I'll hold. My apartment building is burning down outside my front door, but I'll hold," Aaron growled to himself as he waited impatiently for an operator.

There was a click and an operator answered the line, "911, what is the emergency?"

"Regency Oaks Apartment building is burning down, you have to help me!" Aaron shouted into the phone.

"Please calm down Sir, fire crews are on scene and the building has been completely evacuated," the operator replied with an impatient tone.

"No, you don't understand! I'm still in the building!" Aaron shouted, panic stricken again.

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"Why isn't the fire suppression system coming online?" The Fire Chief asked, slamming his paw down on the hood of his command vehicle. The older terrier couldn't understand how things had gone so wrong.

"Sir, the building's landlord says that it was due to be fixed tomorrow," a border collie replied, bringing up the building schematics and combing through the spotty sensor read outs.

"Rhetorical question, Young. Alright, keeps the trucks pumping and bring up two more hoses. Try to keep the flames down until we get everyone out."

"Everyone's out chief!" A sweat soaked tiger said as he and a Doberman jogged up to the Chief. "Time to let it burn," the tiger continued.

"Sir, I know I'm new but are we really going to let it burn?" The Doberman asked, shocked that the tiger would even suggest such a thing.

"Yes, Rook, we have too. We're under city wide mandate to cut water usage and this fire is beyond our ability to contain," The Chief sighed.

"But, these are people's homes!" The Doberman shouted.

"You think I don't know that? Homes can be remade, that's the official standing of the city. At least we got everyone out alive."

"Chief, I've got services on the line. We've got someone trapped on fifth floor!" Young said, pulling his data pad away from the hood and focusing it on the building.

"What?" The Chief roared, taking the pad from the border collie. An overlay appeared over the image shown and separated the apartments into their respective cubes. The view closed in and showed a flickering green signature of a life sign sprawled near the windows.

"Fifth floor, fifth from the right," The Chief grunted through clenched teeth.

"That's the floor above the fire!" The Doberman shouted, a look of dread overcoming his face.

"No shit Rook!" The tiger growled, cursing and running a paw through his headfur. "Chief, I thought-!"

"No, not now! Apologize after we get that poor soul out! Ideas people?"

"We send a ladder up to the windows and extract him through there," Young said, pointing to the windows.

"No, the risk of a backdraft is too high," the chief said, shaking his head. "I'm not putting my team in further danger. Set up a catch mat, he's going to have to jump."

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Aaron was now choking though his wet rag, the ceiling of smoke had descended to a level that he could not escape. The 911 operator was still on the line with him, but he was getting too low on oxygen to reply with more than a few gasped words. Suddenly, the operator's voice was replaced by a raspy male voice that could barely be heard over the sound of surrounding machinery.

"Aaron, this is Fire Chief Andrews. I'm going to help get you out of this."

"Nice--to hear--from you," Aaron gasped into his phone, fighting to keep himself conscious.

"My team has set up a catch mat outside on the street below your window. I need to you to get up, open that window, and jump. It's perfectly safe, you have to trust me."

"Okay," Aaron wheezed, picking himself on weak arms and crawling towards the window. He disengaged the locks and pulled with all the strength left in is oxygen starved body, but the long unused window of his dilapidated apartment building wouldn't budge. Aaron panicked and gave one last monumental, adrenaline fueled tug on the window, but he got nothing. Now, lacking more oxygen than before, Aaron was beginning to realize that he was not going to make it out of his building alive.

"I--I can't do it! Not--enough--air!" Aaron huffed, with his last few breaths before passing out and falling to the floor from oxygen starvation. The phone fell from his paw and his eyes closed, his chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths as his body struggled to stay alive. The last thing Aaron remembered was the heat that filled the room.

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The Chief cursed, slamming his paws down on the hood of his command vehicle yet again. Things were going all wrong tonight, this had to be the worst fire in ten years, and there might even be a death.

"Chief," The Doberman said, grabbing the terrier's arm. "Our fire suits are good for thirty seconds of direct flames, send me in. Get me on that floor and I'll get him out."

"No, it's too dangerous, especially for a Rookie," The terrier said, shaking his head.

"Then send me in!" The tiger said, stepping forward. "I'll go!"

"No one is going! Do I make myself clear?" The terrier shouted, rounding on the Doberman and Tiger. "We will find another way."

Turning back to the data pads before him, the Chief tried to formulate a new plan but he was running out of options fast. While his back was turned, Rook took off.

"Now, Rook, I want you on this hose here, got it?" The terrier said, waiting for a response. "Rook? Rook!?" The terrier shouted, looking over his shoulder.

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As Rook ran to the ladder truck, he pulled his suit tight and double checked his oxygen mask and tank. Satisfied that his regulator was functional and his air supply was okay he grabbed a fire blanket, and started his climb to the bucket at the end of the ladder. Already atop the ladder was Levi, a golden retriever who was fanning a stream of water and suppression foam through a set of windows on the fourth floor. Some residents had left their doors wide open during the evacuation and Levi was trying to keep the damage from spreading. When Rook reached the bucket, he gave Levi a pat on the shoulder and shouted to the retriever.

"Levi, I need you to swing the bucket over to the fifth floor fire exit on the east side of the building, I'm going in."

"What? I didn't get the order from the Chief!" Levi said, focusing his spray where he was told.

"Comms must be down," Rook said, not meeting the golden retrievers questioning stare.

"Rook, you don't want to do this," Levi said, knowing what Rook intended to do.

"Levi, don't tell me what to do," Rook growled.

"Harley, listen to me! You could get killed! Our suits are only good for thirty seconds. "

"Just do it Levi! Someone's dying in there!" The Doberman shouted. Levi was his best friend, the soft hearted golden had welcomed him when no one else would and he was always looking out for Harley. However, Levi was still one of the guys, and as such, he called the Doberman Rook just like everyone else. That is, except when it came to matters of life or death.

"Alright, Harley. Alright."

As Levi began moving the ladder, orders were being shouted at him through the comm attached to the bucket, asking why he was moving position. Levi reached down and flicked a switch as he moved the ladder to safe distance from Harley's desired door. He looked over to the Doberman with a cheeky smile. "I guess the comms must be down. Oops!" Harley couldn't help but crack a smile as he pulled his mask down, sealing it shut. His voice was muffled by his regulator.

"Floor's probably unstable so when I go in, I want you to get to a safe distance just in case it collapses. Don't want you to get your fur singed."

Levi nodded as he settled the bucket into place, watching Harley swing open the gate to the bucket and prepare to jump. He gave two massive steps before leaping at the fire exit door and smashing through the plate glass. Harley was back on his feet and running down the hallway seconds later. Looking back, just for a moment, Harley saw Levi disappear beyond the railing as the golden wisely retreated.

"Go get 'em Rook!"

Time seemed to slow for Harley, his boots stomping though debris, the sound of slow deep pants echoing in his sealed helmet. The hallway was hot and choked for air. Part of the floor had given way already and allowed the heat of the fire to seep into the corridor. His fingers traced the wall as he ran. One door down, and then another. The Doberman's suit was already beginning to singe and smoke. Ten seconds in, Harley was at the fifth door on the right. Without any hesitation, the Doberman turned and lifted his boot and with a mighty kick broke down the door. Rushing into the apartment, time seemed to speed back up. Harley dropped to the floor and squinted through the smoke filled apartment to where the victim was trapped. It took Harley a few seconds to locate the unconscious Dalmatian through the thick smoke, but as soon as he did, Harley wrapped the limp body of the canine in the fire blanket and scooped him up into his arms.

Taking a step back, Harley took a running start at the window; pulling the Dalmatian tight to his chest and leaning his head forward to break the glass with his helmet. The Doberman went through the window not a moment too soon. The floor beneath his boot finally caved in and as they fell, flames blew out every window in both the fifth and fourth floors. As Harley fell, he could feel the heat of the fire on his back, but as he continued to fall, he felt the cooler air outside the building cooling his suit, right before he hit the catch mat.

As the catch mat deflated, Harley rolled out of its confines, Dalmatian prize held tight to his chest. He was swarmed with paramedics and firefighters alike, both pulling the two apart and assessing the damage. Harley followed the paramedics as they took the Dalmatian and laid him on a stretcher, sitting on the trunk of a squad car as he watched them place an oxygen mask over his white and black muzzle. Harley was getting a similar treatment, but from his firefighting brethren. They gently pulled away his mask and helmet and set to work gingerly pulling apart his suit. It was still steaming in the cooler air. He howled in agony as some items were removed. It would seem that he failed to make it out unscathed, parts of his suit had melted and fused to his skin in some spots. As the garments were removed, along with them went some flesh. They pain abated as the adrenaline and exhaustion kicked in as they started to dress his wounds. Someone handed Harley a cold drink and he chugged half of it and poured the rest on his head. Shivering as the cold water ran down his neck, Harley asked whether or not the Dalmatian would be okay. He was shocked to hear his chief answer him back.

"Oh, he should be fine," The terrier said with a sweet smile. Harley knew something bad was coming. "That was some stunt you pulled there, Rook. All of it on my watch too." Here came the kicker. Harley just knew it was coming and sure enough, the terrier slapped him in the back of the head. "Don't ever do that again." But the terrier kept his smile and patted Harley on the shoulder. "That was a hell of a job son, you make me proud."

"Thanks Chief," Harley replied with a stupefied grin, he was in no way expecting a compliment.

"Wipe that smirk off your face. I still have to suspend you pending review."