Chapter Text
The house was the largest, maybe the oldest, in the poor and predominantly black neighborhood. A crowd of people, many in pajamas and robes, watched from across the street. While John was grabbing his oxygen he noticed one distraught older woman in a faded purple nightgown seek out Cap.
As he and Roy approached, he saw that her already graying hair was dusted with ashes. She was crying and gasping about her baby.
Cap had a supportive hand on her arm and had been listening to her intently. As soon as he and Roy were close enough, he said, “There’s one more in the house, her granddaughter, 7 years old, probably on the 2nd floor. Go!”
They did.
*
John took upstairs and Roy downstairs, and it was in a smaller, smoke-filled bedroom that Johnny heard weak coughing amidst the crackling of the flames. One window shone early evening light in the room, which looked eerie next to the black smoke on the ceiling and the flames licking up the ancient wallpaper on either side of the window. John just caught sight of a nebulizer on a side table before he saw the child on the floor, curled around herself.
He gathered her up, murmuring reassurances, and ran out of the room into the narrow hallway, staying low. He knew they didn’t have much time and that the stairs were the only truly safe path out—the fire had been crawling up the walls on all sides of the house when they’d run in.
He heard the thundering crash of the ceiling collapsing in the child’s bedroom behind him, and then the same sound from nearby rooms. As he ran with her down the hallway, he desperately wanted to stop and give her his oxygen, but he couldn’t take the chance that it would mean he couldn’t even get her out.
As soon as he made it to the stairs at the far end of the hallway that he’d run up earlier, he had to stop himself—the stairs were no longer there, fallen into flames and smoke far below.
He quickly checked the rooms off the hallway, closing the doors to the flames within. These old houses were all built the same, he thought, crouching down with the child in the remaining structurally safest part of the house. He put his oxygen on the kid and called out on the H/T.
*
Hank listened to the hoarse voice over the H/T. It was almost unrecognizable. “Found victim, trapped on 2nd floor hallway, ceiling collapsed at east exit, stairs fully involved.”
Hank spoke urgently in reply. “John, we’ll be there as soon as we can.” He glanced at the sooty and panicked paramedic beside him, who’d just given him similar information. Hank knew what else Johnny needed to know. “Roy’s with me and we’re making our way to you now.”
A racking cough. “Tell Roy—vic has minor burns but—” cough “—she’s suffering from heat exhaustion and smoke inhalation—asthmatic--needs treatment asap--” More coughing overcame the voice then.
Hank began giving orders to subdue the flames enough so that they could make a path to John and the victim.
After he did that he tried to reach John again, telling him their plan, but got no response.
*
May Bentley watched the tall white fireman begin barking out directions to the others. He’d listened so carefully to her frantic words and sent people in to find her granddaughter earlier, and now so many of them were going toward the house, with hoses and axes, though she didn’t know how they were going to do anything worth anything. The fire was already consuming the whole house. Her baby, her granddaughter, the most important person in the world, was inside that heat and destruction, and she despaired that there was anything they could do to save her, no matter their grim determination.
She sat down on the curb and hugged herself. She felt both heat from the fire and ice-cold breeze hitting the tears coming down her face, but she was numb as she stared at the flames.