The Last Shift

The Memory

On a cold night in early January 2011, Captain White was sitting in the fire station on his last shift before retirement. Sitting there thinking about it, he realized that his 20 year career had been filled with its fair share of struggles and hardships but very few tragedies. Unfortunately, the one tragedy he had experienced still haunted him to this day. He still remembered the flames pouring out of the windows of the house that reflected brightly off the windows of the engine he was on, which was the first and, for what seemed to be forever, the only one to respond.

As the truck rolled to the stop and the boots hit the ground the awful noise of the little girl still inside rang in his ears. They had no time to suppress the fire, it was growing too fast. He and one other fireman grabbed the line off the truck and started in, only to be met with the fires full resistance. The fog of the water from the small attack line drowned the blaze just enough to bare and go through. They crawled slowly though the structure, but when they came to the stairs leading to the second floor, where the screams were coming from, they only found that the stairs were collapsed upon themselves. They tried desperately to extinguish the flames on the wreckage but the water spurted and stopped; the water in the tank had run out and who knew how long until the driver got it hooked up to the hydrant by himself. Without the line the fire grew back with vengeance, it began to flare over their way out, and the plastic of their helmet shields was turning black and beginning to melt. The universal sign that it has become way too hot to stay without the water as a shield. They turned and made the way though the flamed over hallway to the clear air and lights of the truck. As the driver saw them emerge from the door, he began pulling the ladder off the truck. They grabbed it and laid it to the roof of the first floor, half way up the ladder and the house went up.

The flashback blew through the windows and the cries stopped, the silence could be heard through the fire's roar, they knew it was over as chills ran down their spine. Coming off the ladder, he saw the parents. The parents who had just heard the last cry of their only child. At that point he made a promise to himself that he would never lose another victim even if it meant his own life.

This loss changed him, and not for the good. Soon after his wife couldn't handle the changes that it had put upon him. She filed for divorce and custody of their daughter. This tore him even more, and his escape was back to the job, that had changed him so much. He spent more time at the department than anyone else, worked through the ranks to Captain. The Captain was not required to go into a fire, but his promise still loomed. Every fire he was dispatched to he still suited up and went in as one of the two search and rescue responders.