Part 1
"Do you think Mom will like it?" Daniel asked, lightly caressing the box in his lap. The foil wrapping was iridescent gold with round smiling faces. He traced the patterns with his index finger, imagining his mother's delight at opening the box and finding a birthday present for herself.
Looking over at his son, Abraham Struthers grinned. "I'm sure she will. She'll like it even more to know that you bought it with your own money. Remember, it is…"
"Better to give then receive, I know, Dad." Daniel admitted silently to himself that he did feel good. He sat silently in the seat, his fingers once again moving over the smiling faces as his eyes watched the horizon for the clues that they were almost home.
"Something's on fire," his father broke the quiet, pointing his finger toward the thin wisp of smoke that invaded the azure blue sky.
Hot flames lashed out from the two-story building as Squad and Engine 51 pulled into the drive, parking near a Sheriff's patrol car. The heat of the fire had burst the windows. Now, the fire sent tongues out of each empty frame to consume more wood. What used to be a home with yellow siding now resembled a black furnace with only bits of the bright color remaining. Soon, those bright spots would be consumed, too.
Dark smoke boiled from the flames, escaping and defaming the white fluffy clouds that danced in the sky. A flock of birds quickly flew away from the acrid smell that invaded their flight path.
"Chet! Marco! Get a 2 ˝, tackle the front. John! You and Roy grab a line and check for any gas tanks in the back. See if there are any survivors to this thing," Captain Hank Stanley called out to his men. He quickly said a prayer that no one was home as he looked at the quickly disintegrating structure. It was too well involved to chance sending in one of his men. Looking around for any clues to someone being home, he noted that there were no other cars to indicate someone else was here. Reaching for the radio mic, he called to headquarters.
"Engine 51, we have a structure fire, fully involved. Our only water source is a well, we'll need a tanker at our location." Getting a brief "10-4, 51", he switched frequencies on the radio.
"Engine 18, this is 51, park near the barn and cover it with water. The house is not salvageable." Hank watched as 51's sister truck moved up the winding road, a plume of light brown dirt shooting out behind it.
A station wagon raced ahead of incoming Engine 18, narrowly missing the big red machine. The honking of the vehicle's horn interrupted Stanley's transmission. The car came to a stop near the front of the now collapsing home and both occupants jumped out but were stopped from going into the fire by a police officer. Marco had been backing up Chet on the hose. Seeing the men run toward the inferno, he dropped the hose and ran to assist the officer.
"Emie!" the older of the two men yelled into the roaring fury. His only answer was the creak and snap of timbers before the upper story collapsed into the first, causing all the firemen to back up.
One of the firemen from Engine 18 ran to assist Chet with the hose as the engine's Captain and another firefighter took a hose to the barn, their engineer setting the gauges on the side of the truck to pump water to the hoses.
"You can't go in there!" Marco yelled through his face mask, making eye contact with the youngest of the struggling men.
Seeing his world burn to the ground, the older man briefly sagged against the police officer then stumbled back to lean against his car. Movement from the side of the house brought him out of his misery.
Johnny and Roy carried a body between them. A calico skirt hung from the body, it's brown background now smudged with the grime of fire and smoke. Parts of the material were missing, cut out by small flames.
"Cap!" Roy yelled as they put the body down on the ground and began assessing her condition. "We're going to need air transport."
"Roy, she's stopped breathing," Johnny breathed out, having removed his air pack and helmet. He leaned down and started mouth to mouth resuscitation while his partner grabbed for the biophone Captain Stanley had brought over.
"Emie!" the distraught man watched as the dark haired fireman bent down and touched the woman's lips. "Why you…don't touch her!" he yelled, anger building.
The police officer tried to stop the man from getting closer to the paramedics and hindering their attempt to save the woman's life. For his trouble, he got a fist to the abdomen, followed by an uppercut to his face when he came up for air.
"Get your red-skin hands off of her!" he lunged at Johnny, knocking the paramedic to the ground. "How dare you," he screamed, unaware of the life saving procedure Johnny had been doing.
Rushing to their comrade's aide, Mike and Captain Stanley pulled the man off Johnny. Mike Stoker pushed the man's face toward the ground, then sat on top of him until the officer could handcuff him.
Marco brought the younger man over, thankful for the docile attitude. "What's your name, son?"
"Dan…Daniel Struthers," he whispered, averting his eyes from the scene of his father being handcuffed.
"Daniel, is that your father?" Marco asked, speaking softly to the boy who he guessed to be no more than sixteen. Seeing Daniel nod, Marco continued to ask questions. "That woman the paramedics are working on, is that your mother?" Another nod. "Was anyone else at home, Daniel?"
Tears fell from Daniel's eyes, unhindered, staining his dirty face. Smut from the fire had turned the tan skin to a dark color. The heat of the fire singed his eyebrows and hair. "M-My baby br-brother."
Marco crossed himself, saying a small prayer for the missing child. "Daniel, could he have gotten out of the house and hid somewhere?"
Slowly meeting Marco's eyes, he shook his head. "He's only three months old."
Sure Daniel wouldn't run back toward the fire, Marco released his hold. "Don't worry about your dad. They aren't arresting him, they have to keep him away from the paramedics so they can help your mother, all right?"
Daniel nodded. He'd forgotten about the brightly colored package. His hands opened and dropped it to the ground. His eyes were glued to the two men with his mother. One pressed down on her chest while the other tilted her head back, a plastic tube in his hand.
Roy stopped doing chest compressions long enough for his partner to insert the airway. Once the tube was in place in the victim's throat, he started the rhythmic pumping while Johnny attached an ambu bag to the tube and breathed for her.
Another fire truck broke through crackles and pops from the fire, the transmission from radios of the various vehicles and the shouts of the firemen. Behind it came an ambulance. It pulled up, stopping where Captain Stanley indicated. The two attendants jumped out and went to the back, opening the double doors and pulling out a gurney, knowing that the paramedics were getting the patient ready to transport.
"Roy, you ride in with John. The chopper is just down the road. Chet will bring the squad when we rap things up here. Right now it's just salvage and overhaul."
Having rolled the woman over and placed her on a backboard, providing a firm surface to do CPR against, the foam padding of the stretcher giving way to any weight prevented adequate compressions. Johnny and Chet lifted her up onto the stretcher as Roy nodded in acknowledgment of the order.
The older man's dark brown eyes burned with hatred as he watched his beloved wife put into the back of the waiting ambulance. He struggled with his bonds, not caring about the welts the handcuffs caused to his wrists. Once again he cringed when the savage touched her and the older fireman started pressing on her chest. "You've killed her and now you desecrate her body," he mumbled, unaware of the officer coming to the patrol car with Daniel.