Page 64 of Igniting Her

The channel changed. One by one, the other units acknowledged. Order returned because Cassie expected it to.

Ellie watched the back of her head from the rear cab. The dark twist at Cassie’s nape had not moved despite the apparatus pitching through the turns. Less than a week ago, Cassie’s hands had come loose in Ellie’s hair. Now one held the radio and one marked the route on the tablet, each motion spare and exact.

She had spent years mistaking control for coldness. On a day like this, the difference was impossible to miss. Cassie did not make fear disappear. She gave it work.

Cassie keyed the radio from the front passenger seat. “Dispatch, upgrade to a second alarm and add a wildland response. Have law start traffic control at Mirador and Laurel. Confirm water supply on the crest.”

Her voice did not compete with the siren. It went beneath it.

Mirador Crest was a narrow road cut along the top of the canyon, built for ocean views rather than fire apparatus. Evacuation had collapsed it into two directions of panic. Luxury cars nosed downhill across both lanes. A man dragged two suitcases behind him while a woman in slippers pulled a dog by the collar. Someone had abandoned an electric sedan at the turn, doors open, hazard lights blinking through the smoke.

Mo slowed without stopping. Cassie used the air horn once, then leaned across the dash and pointed through the windshield.

“Take the shoulder. Watch the retaining wall.”

The right wheels climbed dirt. Branches scraped the side of the quint. Mo threaded the apparatus past the abandoned car with inches between the mirror and a stone pillar. Rescue 12 followed in the space they made.

The house announced itself around the next bend.

The estate was three stories built down the slope, cedar and glass over a concrete lower level. The two canyon-side floors were fully involved. Wind drove flame up the rear face in long sheets and folded it beneath the roof overhang. Windows on the middle level failed as Engine 12 approached, scattering sparks across the pool deck. Fire had already found the upper eaves.

From the road, a strip of white stucco and the upper entrance remained visible. From every other side, the structure was fully involved. The slope concealed the worst of it until flame rose above the roofline, but Ellie could see the load-bearing posts beneath the rear decks burning like torches. The house had been built to hang over the view. Now the canyon side of it had almost nothing solid left beneath it.

The neighboring estate on the Delta side stood less than thirty feet away.

“Engine 12 on scene,” Cassie transmitted. “Three-story residential, floors one and two fully involved on the canyon side, extension to floor three and attic. Strong northeast wind, immediate exposure Delta. Mirador Command. Engine 12 initiating fire attack from Alpha. Rescue 12 primary search from the upper entrance. Engine 7 establish water supply and protect Delta. Truck 6 to Alpha for roof and access. All incoming units stage below the crest.”

The words put edges around the chaos.

Ellie jumped down with Jamie. Heat reached them across the street. Mo set the brake and went to the pump panel while they pulled the crosslay. The hose caught once beneath a tire; Jamie freed it, and together they dragged it through the stone gate.

A gray-haired man stood in the driveway shouting at anyone in a helmet. Cassie caught him by the shoulders before he could follow Ellie toward the house.

“Who was inside?”

“My wife. The boys. My mother.” He pointed toward a cluster of people behind a sheriff’s SUV. “They’re there. We’re all out. The dog bolted up the side stairs when the gate opened—please, he’s still back there.”

“How many people live in the house?”

“Five. Five people. We’re all here.”

Cassie looked toward Priya. “Confirm them. Teak, primary on the upper floor only. Fire is below you. Report the first change.”

“Copy.”

Priya moved the family behind the stone wall and counted them where Cassie could see: the man, a woman with blood on one bare foot, two teenage boys, and an older woman wrapped in a gardening apron. Four residents besides the man who had met them in the drive. Five people total, every person the family named standing outside.

The woman caught Cassie’s sleeve. “There are propane cylinders by the outdoor kitchen.”

“Where?”

She pointed through the gate toward the canyon side. Cassie relayed the hazard to every crew, moved the lower line out of the possible blast path, and requested the gas company. Then she turned the woman back toward Priya without losing the next radio transmission.

Ellie bled the line. Water struck the stone drive and vanished into steam. She and Jamie advanced behind the low wall toward the front entrance while Teak and Priya masked up. The street side looked almost untouched—white stucco, a wide pivot door, bougainvillea tearing loose from its trellis in the wind. Then the door opened and smoke pushed out low enough to hide Teak’s boots.

Ellie opened the nozzle into the foyer ceiling. Steam rolled back. Teak and Priya moved behind the line and disappeared toward the bedrooms.

“Rescue 12 entering for primary,” Teak called.