Through the Fire and Flames
(Wayward Son ch. ???)
“I really enjoyed tonight. Thanks Rhys,” Lily cut him a sideways look, just the softest smile curling around her lips and lighting up her green eyes. Rhys felt a smile of his own twist at his mouth as he reached out, cupping her gloved hand in his. He was quite pleased when she didn’t pull away; instead, she squeezed his fingers after a moment, the warmth of her palm slowly seeping through the cotton glove to warm his skin.
“Yeah, well, I think you might’ve gotten yourself caught, too, Frost. Matt and Mel are both going to be expecting you to hang out at our place more often now; I think they adore you,” Rhys laughed, his pace leisurely as he and Lily slowly walked back to her house. He was actually pretty happy tonight; Lily had opened up a lot tonight, and Rhys could see why everyone kept saying she’d been one of the most popular girls at school before she’d shut herself off from everyone. Lily was just so
nice, and she was never anyone except herself; unlike a lot of the girls that were catty and mean when they reached the top of the high school social pyramid, Lily was approachable, and she was kind to everyone. Even if she didn’t like someone, she didn’t turn into a bitch like some girls; she just told the offensive party what she thought politely, and then she walked away. She was a beautiful person on the inside, a fact that made her practically radiant on the outside. Rhys wasn’t sure, but he thought…
Yeah, back that train up right now, bucko; it’s too soon to be thinking that. Give it a few more outings, and then see if you want to admit that. And FYI, she’s still probably getting over her ex; do you really
wanna get friend zoned because you moved too fast?
“Something on your mind, Rhys?”
Rhys shook his head, clearing the self-imposed mental rebuke as Lily’s question penetrated his thoughts. Giving her another smile, Rhys said, “Not much, really…”
The wail of a siren broke the night air, causing both of them to fall silent as their eyes instantly darted to follow the fire truck that came barreling down the street. Instinctively, Rhys’ eyes followed the truck a moment longer before jumping to the skyline, where he found the red-orange glow peeking over the tops of the buildings, giving off more light than the streetlamps did. A twisting feeling centering in his gut, the teen started running, only distantly aware that Lily was following tight on his heels.
Rhys ran for four blocks, following the ever brightening glow until he heard the roar of the flames and could smell the acrid odor of smoke rising into the air. Rounding the corner, Rhys found himself coming to a stop, unable to rip his horrified eyes away. Lily came up behind him, gasping softly as she saw the same thing. “The orphanage…”
There were kids all over the place, spilling out into the road as the staff tried to round up their charges and get a head count. Some of the older children were trying to help the adults, but it was chaos as young voices filled the air, trying to find close friends or siblings, giving vent to their fear, or just trying to find the adult that they were supposed to meet up with in just such an event. Some of the firefighters were attempting to help the orphanage staff get the situation under control, but most of them were working to subdue the fire as the flames danced around inside the building. Water streamed from hoses, the pressure behind the streams causing a low roar of thunder to echo in Rhys’ ears; the hiss and crackle of the water hitting the flames over scored the sound of the torrent almost as if it were the fire’s answer to the foolish firemen as they tried to quench the inferno. And still the flames danced, frolicking to and fro as they glutted themselves on anything and everything they could find inside the orphanage. They seemed determined to leave nothing but a charred, twisted husk in the wake of their search for food.
“Leyla? Leyla, where are you!”
The cries of one kid in particular drew Rhys’ horrified attention away from the destruction. Turning to look, Rhys saw a young boy standing not too far away from him, his dark skin cast lighter by the flames lighting up the whole street. His hair was singed a little, and he had a streak of soot across his nose, but for the most part the kid looked none the worse for wear. The kid turned to look at him, and Rhys realized that the boy looked to be around eight or ten, no older than Matty was. Desperation was shining in the boy’s brown eyes, and though he tried to sound strong, Rhys could hear the quiver in his voice as the kid pleaded, “Please, sir, have you seen a girl with short, wavy red hair and green eyes; a girl a little bit smaller than me? Her name’s Leyla. All the other kids in our group got out, but she’s still missing. Have you seen her? Please, she’s my best friend!”
Rhys looked around, trying to use his height and the fact that the adults were finally getting some control of the situation to his advantage. But though he looked all over, he couldn’t find the girl that the boy described. Rhys felt his face fall, and the boy seemed to pick up on his failure before Rhys could say anything. Turning to Lily, the child said, “Please! Can
you see her, miss?”
Lily scanned their surroundings as well, but her eyes lingered on the burning building at the same time that Rhys’ eyes returned to look at it too. A punch of realization hit him, forcing the air from his lungs at the same time Lily whispered, “She’s still inside!”
Rhys didn’t know how either one of them knew this, but he knew it to be true the moment Lily said it. He felt Lily kneel down to try to calm the young boy even as Rhys began moving, his body acting without his permission, taking him towards the trucks and the firemen.
Rhys told himself he knew what he was going to do; he’d started taking some classes at the fire academy, and he intended to enroll full time after graduation this summer, but he knew enough already to know that the daring civilians that went running into a burning building had a death wish. It wasn’t safe for them; they didn’t know how to handle the dragon that waited inside the inferno, digging its claws into brick, stone, and wood, weakening foundations to create traps and pitfalls to snag the idiot that went in with thoughts of being a hero. Those people didn’t think about how toxic the air became inside the dragon’s den, how the beast pulled poisons and chemicals out of the paint and cleaners and metals, eating at the oxygen and leaving behind carbon monoxide and other pollutants in its quest for food. Those people thought they could be heroes, but they didn’t realize what kind of equipment they needed, what kind of training was required to go into the monster’s maw and come out alive again; even with that training and equipment, the beast still stood a good chance of eating you up, turning you into another bite in its meal as it tried to sate its never ending hunger. Rhys wasn’t going to do that, he told himself as he approached the truck. He was going to tell the fire chief that there was a girl still trapped inside the building, and the chief could get his men to go in for the girl. Rhys would stay out of it and help on the outside if there was anything he could do; he’d leave the heroics to the trained professionals.
As he reached the truck, Rhys veered to the right, away from the chief and towards where he knew the spare oxygen tanks were kept. Reaching out, the teen grabbed one of the tanks, making sure the tank was turned on before he slipped it onto his back. Noting a huge pile of blankets on the ground near the engine, Rhys picked one up, dunking it in a nearby bucket of water until the blanket was soaked through and heavy with water. Then, before he could truly realize what he was doing, Rhys ran towards the building, slinging the blanket over his head and shoulders before he slipped the oxygen mask on over his face, covering his mouth and eyes. Distantly, he thought he heard someone shouting at him to stop, but then he was inside the orphanage, the roar of the flames closing off the outside world.
He was in the dragon’s lair.
Carefully, Rhys walked through the halls, avoiding the flames as best he could and being careful to feel his way along the floor boards for weakness. He didn’t know where he was going, not exactly. Rhys couldn’t explain it, but from the moment he realized that the girl was still inside the building, it was like she was all he could focus on. She’d become a target, a destination he had to reach. He didn’t know how, but it was like he was being pulled along an invisible path, and he knew without knowing that the path ended with the girl Leyla.
Rhys felt an upward tug as he passed the foot of a staircase, and he knew that meant he had to search the second floor. Hearing a soft hiss as an ember fell on the soaked blanket, Rhys took the stairs, gingerly testing each step before putting his weight fully on the boards. It was slower than he would have liked, but Rhys forced himself to stay cautious. He needed to get the girl out of here, and the only thing he’d accomplish by being hasty was getting the both of them killed.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Rhys ducked down for a moment beneath the smoke as the dragon yawned, ratcheting the heat of the air up a notch before it settled down again. Looking across the landing, Rhys could see that the flames weren’t quite as bad up here just yet, although the smoke lay thick across everything. His eyes landed on a door, and he felt that same tug in his stomach that told him that was the right direction. Opting to stay on his hands and knees, Rhys crawled toward the door, stopping for a moment to test the knob before he pushed the portal wide open.
Again, Rhys could see that the room, a bedroom, was almost devoid of flames, but the dragon had released its breath up here too, blanketing the room in a thick layer of toxic fumes. Scanning the room, Rhys soon spotted a closet that stood opposite two beds; the door of the closet stood just slightly ajar, and Rhys realized he could hear a soft cough from inside the closet. Standing up, he hurried toward it, sliding the door open all the way. Inside, he found a young girl, maybe six years of age, with short, wavy red-blonde hair that had been dirtied by the soot that also clung to her skin. She looked up at him, another cough racking her body, forcing her to close her eyes for a moment; but when she opened them again, Rhys saw that she had the deepest, clearest green eyes he’d ever seen. Gently, so he didn’t scare her more than she already was, he took the mask off so she could see his face clearly before he said, “Hi. My name’s Rhys. What’s yours?”
The girl coughed again, doubling up from the force as she tried to get air that held less oxygen than poison. After a moment, she whispered softly, “L…Leyla. My name’s Leyla.”
Rhys nodded, pleased with her response. Seeing how pale she looked beneath the soot, Rhys said, “Hi Leyla. I’m going to get you out of here, okay? But first, I need you to put this mask on, understand? You’ll get clean air if you use this, and that means it won’t hurt as much to breath.”
The girl took the mask as he held it out to her, put it on over her face, and took a deep breath. Looking up at Rhys through the plastic of the mask, Leyla’s lip quivered slightly as she said, “I’m scared, Rhys.”
“I know you are kiddo. But we’re gonna get you out of here, okay? Just keep that mask on.” Rhys held his arms open in invitation, and the girl crawled into his embrace after a moment, still coughing some. Rhys could feel the hot air burning the back of his throat, and he grimaced slightly; the dragon wasn’t pleased, and Rhys knew he only had a short span of time before the beast grew tired of him and ate him and the girl up in one bite.
Ducking low so he wasn’t breathing in as much of the smoke, Rhys started back toward the door, tugging the blanket as close as he could around the both of them; his fingers curled tight around the fabric, but he couldn’t feel much moisture, another sign that he was running out of time. Testing the door knob with his elbow once again before touching it, Rhys pushed the door open and walked into the hallway.
“Shit!”
Rhys stopped dead in his tracks for a moment, watching as the flames climbed up the stairs he’d come up just five minutes before. He knew they weren’t going to get out that way. Spinning on his heel, he studied the landing again, his eyes tearing. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head, but the air quality was souring quickly, and all he succeeded in was causing a coughing fit instead.
Something pressed against his face, and Rhys found he was breathing easier. Opening his eyes, he found himself looking through the mask again as Leyla held it against his face. Holding her eyes for a moment, he just listened as she said softly, “I know you said it’ll help me breathe, but you need it more than me, Rhys. You keep the mask, Rhys; you’ll be able to get us out of here faster, and we’ll be safer sooner.”
Rhys considered refusing and making her wear the mask; but he saw the set of Leyla’s jaw and the light in her eyes; she wasn’t going to budge on this one. He hesitated maybe half a second longer before he slipped the mask back on over his head; all he’d accomplish by fighting with her over who was going to wear the mask was wasting precious time they didn’t have to spare. Looking around again, he asked her quickly, “Leyla, is there another way out of here besides the main stairs?”
Leyla nodded and pointed to the right, her answer quiet as she tried to hide another cough. “There’s another staircase at the end of the hall; you turn left and go straight to the end, and you’re at the back of the orphanage. There’s a window above it, with a big tree outside; Timmy and I sneak out that way all the time.”
Rhys started walking again even as the little girl’s voice faded as she lost her battle with her lungs. Rhys pressed her head against his shoulder, trying to protect her as much as he could. Trying to keep her distracted, he said, “Timmy? Is he a little black boy a little older than you?”
“Yeah, he is. Why? Is he okay?” Her words were muffled against his shirt, but he saw her lift her head for a moment to look at him, the curious light in her eyes half hidden by droopy lids.
Reaching the end of the hall, Rhys turned left as he said, “He’s safe; I met him outside. He was the one that told me you were still in here. Keep your head down, kiddo; you’ll be safe in just a minute!”
This hallway was thick with smoke too, the vapor so dark Rhys could barely see a thing. He saw a flicker of light at the end of the hall that had him concerned, but he pushed on, hoping it was a trick of his mind. Leyla had fallen quiet, pressing her head tight against his chest in an effort to protect herself from the smoke.
The flicker of light proved to be more flames that had found their way to the second story, but they weren’t in the way at the moment; in some ways, they were actually a help as they cut through the black smoke enough for Rhys to see the wall when he finally reached it. Looking up, he saw the window that Leyla had mentioned, the tree just outside of it. For a moment, he considered going out the window, but he didn’t think Leyla could manage climbing down the tree, and he didn’t think he could get her down it with just one arm. Looking to the right, he saw the stairs that she’d promised; though thick smoke billowed up them, Rhys had a feeling that the stairs might be clear of fire.
“Leyla, where do these stairs go?”
Her answer was a long time coming, and when she finally spoke, her voice was faint. “Out… side…”
Rhys threw the now dry blanket off his shoulders before slipping the mask back on her face. He descended the stairs, holding the little girl tightly as he whispered, “Hang on, Leyla; we’re almost outside. Just hang on a little bit longer.” He couldn’t see; the smoke just got thicker and blacker the farther down he went, and Rhys started coughing again from the toxins. They had to be near the storage closet; this stuff was lethal, and he had to get out of here!
Rhys slammed into the door at the bottom of the stairs, his shoulder and side protesting from the forced contact with the wood. Fumbling for the handle, he finally found it and threw the door open, stumbling out into the night. Windows burst behind him from the heat, throwing shards of glass outward as the dragon roared, enraged because Rhys had escaped, taking Leyla with him. For a moment, Rhys looked back, and he thought he saw a figure in the smoke; but then he blinked, and all he saw was a tongue of flame starting to lick at the door. Facing forward again, he scrambled away from the building.
Rhys coughed, trying to clear his lungs of the smoke so he could pull in the clean night air instead. His throat felt raw; each breath burned all the way down into his lungs, and what he was about to do would hurt even more. Stumbling, he felt himself go down on his knees as he cried hoarsely, “Help! I need help here!”
He kept crawling, trying to put as much space between himself and the fire as possible, carefully holding the girl close against his chest. He finally came to a stop when he felt a small group of people cluster around him and a hand dropped on his shoulder. Rhys looked up into the face of the fire chief, a frown creasing across the older man’s brow as he said, “Take it easy, son, we got you.”
Rhys was surprised by how difficult it was to let another firefighter take Leyla away from him, but he did release the girl so the adults could look her over. The fire chief pressed the mask back onto Rhys’ face while he shouted for an EMT to bring a proper set up over. Rhys didn’t speak for a moment, instead just taking deep breaths of the oxygen rich air, his lungs starved for the stuff.
The fire chief watched Rhys for a moment, waiting until the boy was breathing easier before the older man said, “I’ve seen you around the academy, haven’t I? It’s Hunter, correct?” Rhys nodded yes to both questions before the chief continued, “You know that was quite a dangerous stunt you pulled, son, I’m not going to lie to you. You can’t do those kind of things if you expect to become a full fireman.”
Rhys didn’t try to defend himself, because he knew the chief was right. Things were quiet between the two of them for a moment before the chief said softly, “However, having the courage to face the dragon like that is always a quality we value in our men. Keep that impulsiveness in check and you could still make it as a Fire Knight yet.” The chief smiled at Rhys then, causing the younger man to smile slightly in return.
“I can’t find a pulse.”
“She’s not breathing. Get me the paddles!”
The smile slid right off Rhys’ face then. Looking up, he saw the EMTs gathered around Leyla, a portable defibrillator being prepped while one of tech’s performed chest compressions. Rhys’ breath caught in his throat, refusing to go into his lungs or be expelled, as he watched, praying softly, “Come on, kiddo. Don’t give up on me now,
please.”
“Leyla!”
Rhys looked away for a moment as his eyes found Timmy, the little boy racing toward the circle of medics. A woman came running just after him, clearly trying to regain control of her charge. Rhys shrugged the tank off his shoulders and pulled the mask off his face before climbing unsteadily to his feet, trying to intercept the little boy. Before he could get to him, though, Lily appeared from out of the shadows, catching Timmy around the waist and holding him tight against her; even though he struggled against her grip, Lily held firm, keeping Timmy back.
“Clear!”
“Still no pulse.”
“Prep the paddles again!”
Rhys hobbled over to Leyla, falling to his knees just out of reach, watching with suddenly glazed eyes. What happened? She’d been okay just before they got out, hadn’t she?
You keep the mask, Rhys; you’ll be able to get us out of here faster, and we’ll be safer sooner.
“The smoke,” he whispered softly, his eyes starting to burn. He’d been too late; the smoke had been too much for the little girl. Rhys hung his head, a hollow ache throbbing in the pit of his stomach. He felt a hand drop onto his shoulder, and Rhys had a feeling it was the fire chief, but the boy didn’t look up. He just watched the grass, his vision growing blurry, his breath hitching in his abused throat and lungs. “I’m sorry, kiddo. I should have made you keep the mask; I’m sorry…”
“Ow!”
A soft crackle underscored the pained cry from Lily, and the sound of running feet quickly followed, but Rhys could barely concentrate on that. He’d failed. Leyla died in his arms, just before he could get her out. He promised that little girl he’d get her out safely, but the dragon still took her. That hollow ache pulsed again, and Rhys clenched his fist. He’d
failed…
“I got a pulse.”
“Get me a mask and oxygen!”
Rhys looked up, barely able to understand. Timmy came careening to a halt right next to him, and both the older and younger boys watched as one of the tech’s fit a small mask over Leyla’s face, a light fog clouding the plastic as she exhaled. Blinking, Rhys watched in growing amazement as her chest rose and fell; her breathing was still shallow, but she was alive!
Leyla turned her head slightly, catching sight of the two boys. Her voice thin and shaky, she whispered, “Timmy? Rhys?”
“Leyla, you’re okay!” The relief was obvious in Timmy’s face, and he didn’t fight this time as a worker came up and pulled him back, whispering soft words to get the boy to come with her. One of the EMTs that weren’t carefully moving Leyla onto a gurney for transport to the hospital turned to look at Rhys, a concerned frown creasing his brow at the state of Rhys’ appearance and breathing. “Do you need help, son?”
Rhys couldn’t think of anything to say, and started coughing instead. Coming over to check on him, the EMT slipped an oxygen mask over Rhys’ face and said quietly, “You inhaled a lot of smoke, you and the girl both. You need to get to the hospital yourself to get checked over, make sure there’s no lasting damage.”
“Rhys?” The voice was a soft whisper, but he knew he’d recognize it for a long time. Turning to face her, Rhys saw the fear that was trying to creep back onto Leyla’s face, although she tried to stay calm. “Can you come with me, please?”
The adrenaline was fading from Rhys’ system, and he found he was starting to grow shaky and lightheaded. Looking up, he caught Lily’s eye, and the girl nodded her head. “I’ll tell your dad what happened, and he can meet you there. I’ll come over after I go home and let my folks know what’s going on.”
Rhys’ nodded his thanks, unwilling to speak at the moment. One of the EMTs came up on Rhys’ right side, giving him some help with his balance as Rhys walked by the gurney, his left hand occupied with the little girl’s. Leyla gave him a small, grateful smile, and Rhys felt that ache disappear, replaced instead with something that felt almost like recognition. She was still gonna be in hell for a while, but he’d done it. Even with it being the stupid thing, it had also been the right thing to do. Rhys had gone into the dragon’s den and saved Leyla.
He was a hero.
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