Debris and ash rained down as the roof caught. Chunks of wood and ceiling hit the floor. Convinced the main level was clear, Frankie ran for the stairs, noting the stream of water hitting the back of the structure from where Ozzy and Sebastian were.
She knew, as her foot hit the second-story landing, that the building would be a complete loss. They’d keep the fire contained, and thankfully there was enough space around the structure that the flames shouldn’t spread. That there was no wind on this Christmas Eve seemed a particular blessing. Controlling her breathing, staying low, Frankie checked each room she passed, feeling the seconds tick away the closer she got to Gil’s office.
As she reached his doorway, thick plumes of smoke erupted. She couldn’t see anything. Her eyes watered, but she focused on taking slow, even breaths despite the hammering of her heart.
“Gil!” she screamed, scooting into the room and waiting. She heard a faint sound. There! Behind the desk. Near the open windows. Smoke billowed, and a figure sagged. “Gil!” Frankie was at his side in seconds. He collapsed onto the floor, his face covered in soot. He blinked at her, tried to open his eyes. She could see a gash on his head, blood trickling down the side of his face. A chunk of the ceiling had fallen on him. “Can you walk?” she yelled.
He nodded.
“Anyone else inside?”
“N-no.” He choked.
“Okay. Lean on me!” She ducked down, slipped his arm over her shoulders and half dragged him to the door.
The fire had gotten stronger. She could feel the heat under her, surrounding her. Gil coughed a cough that sounded as close to a death rattle as she ever wanted to hear. He clung to her, and she hoisted her arm around his waist to keep him upright.
“Frankie, where are you?” She could hear Kendall’s voice in her ear. Then Roman’s. The front of the building was engulfed. She’d have to find another way out. Down the stairs. One, two at a time. Gil sagged, and she felt him losing consciousness.
“Hang on, Gil. Don’t you dare do this to me. You and I have our fight to finish.”
Ten steps left. Nine. Eight. The wood beneath her creaked. Cracked. Broke apart. She dived forward. The second her feet lifted, the stairs disintegrated. The roof crumbled. Her head went light as the fire screeched closer.
Roman was right, Frankie realized in a flash. Anyone at any time, in any way, could lose their life. Firefighter, accountant, pharmacist. Roman, Ozzy...or her.
But it was too late. Too late to fix what she’d turned her back on. Too late to tell Roman what he’d dared her to say. That she loved him.
She didn’t remember landing before the world went dark.
* * *
“FRANKIE!” ROMAN YELLED into his intercom. “Frankie, answer me! Kendall? Sebastian? You see or hear anything?”
No one heard any response from Frankie.
Roman’s heart tried to beat itself free of his chest. “I can’t go in.” Frankie knew it and so did he now. He was a liability anywhere near that fire.
“I’ll go.” Ozzy appeared, helmet and mask covered in soot and ash. “I know the building. I can get in through the cellar.”
“Ozzy!” Luke grabbed his arm, held him back. “No. Let—”
“Let who? Sebastian? Fletcher?” Ozzy demanded. “They’ve got families, kids. I won’t stand back again. Not like when Charlie was in trouble. I can do this, Luke.” Ozzy locked his hand around his boss’s. “Trust me. Let me do this.”
“Frankie trained him,” Roman said, putting all his hopes for the future on the junior deputy while he managed the fire from here. “He can do it.”
Luke released his hold and gave a sharp nod. “Go get them.”
* * *
FRANKIE AWOKE CHOKING, dragging in air that had her nearly hyperventilating. Her head ached, and judging by the chunk of ceiling that had clipped her helmet, she wasn’t surprised. The partial collapse of the building had put out some of the flames. Enough so she could see better than before. She dragged herself up, pulled her feet in under her and crouched, reaching out for Gil, who had gone frighteningly still. She hauled him to her, hefted him and ducked, getting him over her shoulder before she stumbled forward.
“Frankie!”
She was afraid she was hearing things, but there, coming toward her, stomping through the debris and ash, she saw the yellow jacket and helmet. It wasn’t until he drew closer that she saw who it was. “Ozzy?”
“I’ve got a way out. Want me to take him?”
“He’s solid. For now.” Every muscle in her body ached. Ozzy grabbed her shoulder, pushing her in front of him and guiding her through the smoke-filled rooms and down into the cellar. When they cleared the building, Frankie dropped to her knees, unloading Gil onto the damp, cold grass. She’d never been so glad to touch solid ground.