All works Copyright Anne Rainey

Suni's Gift - Buy Now

Yellow and orange flames tore through the roof. Gray, boiling smoke, the sound of crackling wood, and the hiss of asphalt in the shingles could be heard as the fire demolished everything in its path. Fire. It was a force that refused to be tamed by mere man. Ross and the rest of the team were determined to, at the very least, wrestle control over the wicked slayer. He ignored the people on the streets staring in fascinated horror. He tuned out the television crew stationed outside the yellow line. The only thing that mattered was getting the people out safely.

A neighbor had called nine-one-one when she'd heard a loud explosion. Two children were still inside the old, crumbling two-story house. The mother had somehow managed to escape and was frantic for her babies. Her panicked screams drove home just how grave the situation was for every firefighter on the scene. The children had to be alive; Ross couldn't allow himself to think any other way.

The IC, Incident Commander, had already sized-up the scene, assessed the situation, and gave the order to enter the structure. Every man there felt it was his responsibility to see the job done right. Mistakes meant lives lost--not an option.

They went to work immediately, moving in and taking down the enemy. Each person had a job and efficiency saved lives. Dressed in fifty-six pounds of turnout gear, Ross was as ready as ever. He headed toward the front of the house, radiating waves of heat blasted him and smoke tightened his throat. It was the same every time--a battle against the one thing that would never surrender, Mother Nature.

Slamming his mind shut to the outside world, Ross Buchanan said a quick prayer for the lives of his fellow firefighters, as well as the hapless victims, then kicked in the front door. He moved toward the stairs leading to the second story, which was already burning along the edges. He took the steps with care, but by the time he reached the top, some of the steps were nothing but glowing embers. Fear hit him as he wondered how the in hell he was going to get himself and any survivors out alive.

The intense heat scorched him even through the heavy layers of his gear, the roaring inrush of air through the open door drowned out nearly every other sound. After what felt like an eternity of searching, he heard a sharp cry. Moving towards the sound, Ross found the children's bedroom. He called out, relieved when the cries grew louder. He slid a door open and found two little blond girls around the age of five in the bedroom closet, huddled together on the floor.

They were so small Ross was able to pick them both up in one swoop. He went to the window across the room and kicked it with his heavy boot. The glass on the dilapidated window shattered and fresh air shot in.

Within seconds, the boom ladder was there and he was able to hand one crying, coughing child over to Mike Reed, his best friend and fellow firefighter. Ross took the other little girl down the ladder himself. Once they were safely on the ground, Mike signaled to their right. The children's mother was running toward them, her arms outstretched, her face wet with tears.

"My babies!" She screamed, as she skidded to a stop on her knees and grabbed both girls, holding them tight to her chest. All three were in shock and had inhaled way too much smoke. In his experience, it was best not to waste time attempting to reason with terrified victims. Ross wrapped his right arm around the woman's shoulders and gently directed her to the paramedics already striding toward them.

He watched as they were led away, safe and relatively unharmed. A happy ending. If you could call losing every last one of your worldly possessions and being suddenly homeless at Christmas time a happy ending. For him and the other men, the fire still raged on, the job was far from finished. Several hours of work lay ahead for all involved. Ross took a deep breath and went back to battling the elements.