Killing A Death Wish

The bell clamored through the firehouse. Freddy Navarro leaped from the table where he had been writing a report and sprinted for the pole down to the garage. As he slid down, Freddy felt grateful to be stationed in a firehouse that still had a functioning pole. The little rush of adrenaline always helped to hype him up for another job.

As soon as his feet touched down in the garage, he belted toward his locker and jumped into his kit. The record was 43 seconds and every time he dressed he pushed to try and beat it. Less than a minute later he was running again toward the engine where he saw his friend Ben calling out to him.

“Come on slowpoke, fire’s not going to fight itself.”

“How did you beat me?” Freddy asked. “You’re always slower to get dressed.”

“I was near the engine when the bell rang,” Ben replied as they climbed into their seats.

“Ignoring that report you have to write. . . again?” Freddy asked.

“I’ll do it later,” Ben replied. “Now smile.”

Freddy looked up to see Ben holding his phone out for a selfie. Ben reflexively grinned.

“Oh yeah, that one is going on the gram,” Ben said happily as he started typing on his phone. “Responding to the fire on 17th and Maple, hashtag heroes without capes.”

The radio crackled, “ All units respond to 17th and Maple, we have an abandoned building on fire. Reports from civilians say that there is a possibility of homeless squatters in the building. We will need to clear it.”

“Sweet, we’re going into the belly of the beast,” Ben cackled.

“You know,” Freddy said to his friend. “You don’t have to act so excited about a fire. Most people would consider this a tragedy.”

“Nice try, Death Wish, but you can’t pull that one on me,” Ben said. “You’re as hyped to get in there as I am. That is why we are always the first in.”

Freddy chuckled at his friend but he couldn’t fault his logic. Freddy loved being a firefighter. His father had been one as well and lost his life pulling someone out of a burning building. Freddy idolized his dad for that. It also helped that living life on the edge was a huge rush.

Suddenly the pager clipped to Freddy’s helmet buzzed. Pulling it off, he looked at the screen and recognized the number as belonging to his girlfriend Jules. “Need to talk to u,” the message read. He tried to think about what it could be but nothing came to mind.

“What’s up?” Ben asked.

“It’s Jules,” Freddy answered. “She has been feeling kind of sick recently so she may need me to pick up something for her after I get off.”

“Ugh,” Ben groaned. “Dude, she is such a dead weight. You could get someone much better.”

Freddy ignored his friend's remarks. Ever since he and Jules had started getting more serious Ben had been more critical of Freddy’s relationship. He hoped that Ben’s jealousy came from how much time Freddy spent with Jules and that eventually, Ben would adjust.

The engine pulled onto Maple and Freddy finally got a look at what they were dealing with. It was a three-story brick building, probably 100 years old or so. Black smoke billowed out of the windows. The engine parked in front of the building and Freddy climbed out. As soon as he did he heard the chief shouting orders.

“I need this block cordoned off and we got to get water pumping to keep this from spreading. This is our fourth fire this week and I want to keep it small.”

The team shouted an acknowledgment and got to work. In short order, they had started to suppress the fire. It was odd to have so many fires back to back, and there were rumors that there might be a firebug. But that was for the fire marshal to worry about so Freddy didn’t give it much thought.

With the hoses running, the Chief called out, “Alright, as you heard on the radio, there’s a chance of homeless people squatting in the building so we’ll need to clear it. I need a team on the roof opening a hole to ventilate the smoke and I need some volunteers to enter the ground floor and start clearing rooms.”

“You got it chief,” Ben responded eagerly. 

“Not a chance Gibbons,” The chief responded immediately. “You still owe me a write-up for that stunt you pulled at the San Marino fire last week.”

“I can go in, Chief,” Freddy volunteered.

“Navarro, you’re nearly as bad as he is,” the chief said. “But you at least seem to have an ounce of responsibility. Head in with Timmens, Taylor, and Schwartz.” He then grabbed Freddy’s jacket and put a finger in his face. “And you better remember, two-in, two-out. If you separate from your partner again you’ll never enter another building as long as I can help it.”

The chief began organizing the ladder team, but Freddy stopped listening when he got the okay to enter the building. As he prepared his O2, Ben grabbed his arm.

“Stay away from the second floor on the south side,” he said seriously.

“What?” Freddy asked.

“It. . . doesn’t look stable,” he said hesitantly, then was pulled away to help with the hose team.

Freddy didn’t allow the odd interaction to phase him and quickly met up with the other three firefighters he would be going in with. 

“Let’s set up partners,” Timmens said, assuming the lead due to his seniority.

“I’ll be with you,” Schwartz said. “I’m not getting stuck with Death Wish.” She thumbed toward Freddy.

“Love you too, Schwartz,” Freddy snarked back. “So, I’m with Taylor then?”

“Yeah,” The last member of the group agreed.

With their buddy system established, the group moved toward the door.

“We’ll clear the ground floor,” Timmens said. “You two head up to the second.”

“Roger,” the other three agreed. As soon as they were told that the ventilation hole had been opened, they charged into the building.

Inside, there was zero visibility other than the orange tongues of flame licking at the walls. 

“Move out,” Timmen’s said.

Freddy charged ahead in search of the stairs to the second floor with Taylor’s boots crashing along behind him. They found the stairwell halfway down the central hallway. It looked like this used to be some kind of residence or hotel if the layout was anything to go by. There was a central hallway with six apartments on either side. 

Once at the top of the stairs, Freddy called out, “Let’s start at the front of the building and work back. You take the north side and I’ll take the south.” Taylor gave a thumbs up and the two firefighters got to work. 

The first two rooms Freddy looked through were empty, but he called out to see if he missed anyone. No response came back. After each room was cleared the two firefighters would meet in the hallway in the middle and flash a thumbs-up to show that they were clear. 

As Freddy was going through the third room, however, he received a message on the radio from Taylor.

“Navarro, I got a middle-aged male in need of evac. He says he doesn’t know if there’s anyone else but he’s weak, probably from smoke inhalation. I’ve got him on an auxiliary air hose but we need to get him out of the building.”

Leaving the room he was in, Freddy hurried across the hall. He found Taylor and the man he had mentioned and helped get the civilian moving toward the stairs. When they reached the top of the stairwell, however, Freddy paused.

“I still need to clear the room I was in,” he said to Taylor.

“Are you serious?” Taylor asked. “What did the chief say? It’s two-in, two-out. If I leave without you we’re both dead.”

“I know,” Freddy said, “But after finding this guy, what if there are more? Start down the stairs and I’ll meet you at the bottom.”

Freddy ignored Taylor’s continued objections and rushed back to the room he had left early. It was clear, so he turned to go meet up with Taylor. But in the hallway, he stopped before heading downstairs. He looked and noticed that the next door was closed where most of the doorways in the hall had been opened.

“Someone might’ve shut that door to keep the smoke out,” he reasoned and ran to the closed door. He pushed it open. There was slight resistance and when he looked in he saw why. It had been booby-trapped. The door was hooked to a contraption that triggered when opened and dropped a glass jug full of a clear liquid.

Freddy had no way of knowing what was in the jug but, if the rumors of an arson were to be believed, it was most likely an accelerant of some kind. As it fell, Freddy traced the jug with his eyes and it seemed to slow as his bloodstream filled with adrenaline. If it were an accelerant, he wouldn’t have time to react to the fireball. This was it, he would die just like his dad.

He remembered the day he had been told. He was eight. It was a completely unassuming morning. His father had been on duty the night before so he wasn’t at home but Freddy didn’t care because his dad was a fireman, which gave him a lot of cred with the other kids at school. 

He and his mother were eating breakfast when a knock came at the door. Looking around the corner into the front hall, Freddy saw that two men in uniform were standing outside. He recognized them from a barbeque that the fire station had put on that summer. He watched as his mother collapsed, sobbing into one of the men’s chests.

Flashing forward to the day of the funeral. Freddy listened to men talk about how great his dad had been. Afterward, the fire chief came up to him and squeezed his shoulder. 

“Your father was a hero,” the chief said.

They were simple words meant to comfort a grieving boy, good words to hear. They said that his father was someone he should admire. That he should be proud of the actions his father chose, that his sacrifice was noble. But no one told Freddy that it was also okay to be sad that his father was gone. That it was okay to miss him and be mad that he no longer had a dad. 

So Freddy pushed down those feelings. He shouldn’t be mad because of his loss. His father had been a hero, someone to idolize and aspire to be like. That became the foundation of every choice Freddy made throughout his life. He was going to be a firefighter. He was going to save others just like his dad, even if it endangered him in the process. 

Things escalated in the academy. He met Ben, who didn’t just fight fires because it was good but because it was exciting. With his urging, Freddy began to enjoy living so close to death. The risks he was willing to take became increasingly extreme, abandoning his partner, taking the quickest route through a building even if it was unstable. And all the time Ben was right at his side egging him on.

Things started to change when Jules entered his life. They had met a year ago at a bar Ben dragged him to one night after their shift. It started casually, meeting up every once in a while when neither of them had anything to do. Just another quick thrill between his shifts. 

After a few hookups, however, they started talking. He liked hearing her laugh. She would tell him about her dream of owning a little coffee shop. Suddenly meeting her wasn’t about the thrill but about having a place to unwind. She was his escape from the stress of the job. Freddy cursed himself that it was at this moment when he was staring death in the face that he finally realized how much she meant to him.

The jug continued to fall, the life flashing before Freddy’s eyes caught up with him. Then shockingly it continued. In his mind's eye, he saw what would happen. The jug crashed to the ground shattering and spreading the liquid around the floor. The heat and flames immediately ignited the liquid. The sudden increase in heat caused the flames to expand rushing toward the wall and the doorway where he stood. The rushing air would blow him backward and dislodge his respirator. He would inhale the superheated air burning his lungs and suffocating him if the force of the blast didn't liquefy his insides. 

That would be the end of him. He would have proved all the people who joked about him having a death wish right. He couldn’t help but wonder who the chief would inform. His mother surely would have to know. He was ashamed at the thought of her getting the same visit twice in her life.

Suddenly the scene of his mother receiving the news of his father’s death replayed in his mind but it was Jules instead. She had called and said there was something important she needed to tell him. She had been sick for the last few days. The possibilities shot through his head a mile a minute and one struck him.  She was told he had died, she wept into the chest of the man that brought her the news, then nine months later a baby was born and it grew up hearing those same words. “Your father was a hero. He died trying to help people.” 

How would it affect them? Would they go to a friend's birthday party and see that friend's dad cooking at the grill or playing catch, and burn with jealousy the way he had? Or would Jules find someone else to fill the role? Would his child be raised by a stranger, never knowing the man who should have been there?

Now the regret turned to anger. A burning hatred for whoever it was that set this ridiculous trap up. Setting the building on fire wasn’t enough, they needed to explode the rooms after the fact just to make it more exciting. 

“Stay away from the second floor on the south side,” the memory returned with such clarity. 

Ben had warned him about this part of the building. How had he known? Then Freddy remembered the truck. Ben had said the location of the fire before it was declared over the radio. Could his friend have caused this? There was no way to know for sure but Freddy couldn’t die here. He couldn’t accept it.

Wrenching himself back to the present, Freddy watched as the jug made contact with the floor. Summoning strength from every emotion that had rocketed through him at watching his life play out, he threw himself to the side. As he fell he heard the jug crash and then a roar as a fireball erupted. Freddy’s head and torso fell behind cover just in time but his legs were caught in the blast. He screamed as the heat blazed across his legs. If he was lucky he would only have to worry about second-degree burns. 

Using the dregs of adrenaline in his system, Freddy dragged himself to his feet and practically fell down the stairs, right into the arms of Taylor.

“I got you,” the fireman said. “What happened?”

“Booby-trap,” Freddy gasped out. “Door rigged to a bottle. It exploded.”

“You can tell the chief all about it,” Taylor threw one of Freddy’s arms around his shoulder.

“Homeless guy” Freddy gasped out, the pain from his legs making full sentences impossible.

“Schwartz and Timmens took him so I could go back for you,” Taylor said. “Now stop talking and help me get you out of here.”

They stumbled out into the daylight, Taylor calling frantically for a medic. In a blur of activity, Freddy was put on a stretcher and his burned pants were removed so the paramedics could treat the area. They were transporting him toward an ambulance when the chief ran up. 

“What happened up there?” He demanded.

Freddy told him about the booby trap. Then, though it felt like a betrayal, he shared what Ben had told him about the south side of the building and what he heard in the truck. The chief listened stoically and told Freddy that he would take care of things.

Consciousness became a fleeting thing as the pain in his legs overwhelmed Freddy’s mind, but whenever possible he called out for Jules. He needed to know why she called him. Even if the visions of the future had been nothing but dreams his feelings weren’t.  He tried to hold on but finally, everything went dark.

He awoke in the hospital. The sound of a beeping monitor and the smell of disinfectant were the first two things to enter his perception. Then feeling returned. First pain in his legs. 

“Hope that’s a good sign,” he thought to himself.

Then he felt something in his hand. Looking down he saw it was someone’s fingers. Struggling against the grogginess he felt, he followed the fingers up an arm that was resting under her head.

“Jules,” he croaked, his throat parched and scratchy.

At his words, she jerked up, her auburn hair flailing around as she shook away her sleepiness. 

“Freddy,” she gasped. “Freddy, oh my god. They told me you were hurt, then I saw you and I just- I just don’t know what I would have done if. . .” Her words devolved into sobs.

He summoned all his strength to give her hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I promise I’ll be more careful in the future.”