Chapter 2

“You need to get the people out,” Rory said to the chief as Colin watched the firefighters carry out the residents. The firefighters seemed exhausted to Colin.

The men were frantically trying to get the tenants out of the building before it collapsed around them, but the residents weren’t cooperating. One of the Belmar volunteers came out with severe smoke inhalation and was in no shape to go back inside even though they were short of personnel. All of the local guys knew Rory, so when Rory said, “I’ll take his gear and help out,” Jim nodded his head and signaled the volunteer to give Rory the equipment.

Colin knew his ma would murder his da if she had any idea that Rory went to fight a fire with him waiting outside. However, Rory was a firefighter through and through and was incapable of bypassing a fire.

Colin watched his father go into the burning building four times and bring out four old men in a fireman’s carry. “Is there anyone left?” the chief asked his worn out crew.

As soon as the question was out of his mouth, a shout came from a window on the second floor. An old man waving a bottle of whiskey said, “Which one of you fucks is coming to get me?”

The worn out volunteers were trying desperately to keep the fire from spreading to the adjacent buildings. There weren’t enough men, so Rory Callahan went in one more time. Colin waited. He waited some more. Finally the chief said, “Somebody go in and see what happened to Rory.”

Tears were pouring down Colin’s face. He knew his da was in trouble. He broke free of the arms of the volunteer who came over to restrain him and ran into the burning building to find his da.

* * * *

As Colin entered the building, Rory had just made it down the stairs with the struggling drunk. Rory watched in horror as a wall collapsed, and a piece of burning molding fell and landed on Colin’s cheek. Colin seemed to try to brush it off, but it stuck to his skin. Hearing Colin’s scream, Rory handed the old drunk off to the volunteer who ran in after Colin. Rory pried the molding off of his son’s face, picked him up and took off through the door. They made it out just before the building collapsed.

“Colin, Colin, what have you done?” Rory was in tears. The volunteer kicked the drunk out the door and pushed through the crowd with Rory holding on to Colin. They made it to one of the waiting ambulances gathering to treat the firefighters and the fire’s victims.

Rory immediately found an EMT he knew from the Belmar firehouse and got Colin a priority ride to the hospital to take care of his cheek. Colin screamed in pain. Rory feared it was a third-degree burn and knew it would scar. Following the ambulance in, Rory prayed to Saint Jude, the saint who interceded with God for help with impossible causes.

He made rash promises. “If Colin is okay, I’ll stop chasing fires, take my pension and find another line of work. I’ll be a better father and not spend so much time at the pub. I’ll…” Rory pulled into the ER bay right behind the ambulance.

Kathleen met them by taxi at the Emergency Room ten minutes later. The ER was overwhelmed with victims from the fire and the usual suspects from a Friday on Labor Day weekend. Besides the burn victims, there were two couples with severe injuries from a car crash involving a drunk driver, incidents involving accidently and deliberately discharged handguns, bar fights, heart attacks and heat exhaustion.

The respiratory therapist treated Colin for smoke inhalation, and there were other victims with more severe burns from the fire. Colin had to wait for treatment until some additional physicians the hospital called could arrive to deal with the chaos.

Kathleen, angry with Rory and the hospital for not taking care of her child first, had to be physically restrained by the nurse and given a sedative.

Thirty minutes later Rory started to complain in his loud booming voice, “He’s only a boy. He should be first on your list instead of these drunks.” Kathleen was still mildly hysterical despite the sedative. Finally, in exasperation, the nurse sent over an inexperienced first-year resident. He examined Colin.

The doctor talked to Rory because Kathleen although quieter, was still inconsolable.

“I’m Dr. Abrams,” Rory thought the resident was too young to shave much less take care of his child. However, he listened carefully to what the doctor said

“Colin needs surgery to clean and remove the dead tissue from the burned area. I don’t know when the operating room will free up, and there are others ahead of him so I can’t give you a timeline. Once they finish in surgery, he’ll come down connected to an IV containing electrolytes and antibiotics. After he gets out of the recovery room, he’ll be transferred to a burn unit and begin to undergo treatment.”

“How long will it take?”

“At least twenty-one days for the initial burn to heal—longer if we have to do a skin graft. That could take an additional ten days.”

Rory grimaced. “Would he get better treatment in the city after your initial assessment?”

“Not really. We are a level two trauma unit and have a competent staff,” Dr. Abrams answered.