PLEASE NOTE: Names and places and certain facts have been altered to protect the privacy of the firefighter's families. This story is copyrighted to Kalvere, "Kal the Rebel" Please do not reproduce without author's permission. Kalvere, the author, is from Minnesota and would welcome any comments at the following email address: [email protected].

 

CAN YOU OUT RUN THE DEVIL?

Jeff heard the call to retreat, evacuate the building. When he had entered this room, he went to the right to search -- on his way out he would quickly sweep the left side of the room. As he neared the door from the left, he found the body lying on the floor, curled in a fetal position.

No one is supposed to be in here.

He leaned down close and could see it was a young woman... and that she was beyond help. He radioed in, body located third floor... they were firm in telling him that he had to get out.... If he could, bring the body quickly down with no danger to himself, but he had to move out NOW! This apartment building was coming down around him.

As he turned the body over it shifted and he saw... movement... a tiny arm.... The woman was curled around a baby, and the baby was alive. He wrenched the baby from the lifeless arms of the woman and held it against his chest, and radioed in -- "I have an infant. Alive. I'm coming down the West stairwell." Although he knew she couldn't hear him, was beyond hearing anything, he gently touched the young woman's shoulder and said, "We'll be back for you.... I'll take care of your baby."

Quickly out the door, down the hall, towards the stairs -- he could just make out ahead the shadowy form of a fellow firefighter going down the stairs. I'm right behind you. He could hear the rumbling of the beast, feel the floor ebb and flow beneath him, like walking on liquid. He felt his foot sink down... like slow motion... the floor was falling in.... He ran. The ceiling above him rained down fiery debris. He held the baby tightly in both arms, trying to shield it from the firestorm all around them as he sprinted down the hallway, the floor opening up behind him. Thinking to himself, "slow down, think, call in, think." He knew he was running blind, but he couldn't slow down... the gap in the floor behind him and the ball of fire before him were closing in. He felt his leg fall through and scrambled forward on his knees....

Can you out run the Devil?

The gap caught up to him -- the fireball burst upwards, filling the stairwell and flowed across the ceiling. He threw himself to the side and rolled away from the opening floor. Was he in another hallway? Had he jumped left or right? The rolling had disoriented him. Before him where he had been was nothing but flames. Behind him, thick black smoke glowed orange around the edges. He looked down at the baby, the tiny chest still rose and fell. He wrapped his arms around it tighter.

Hang on little baby, this is gonna be one hell of a ride.

He rolled onto his feet and ran in an awkward, hunched- over run, protecting the child from the falling debris with his body, down the black smoky hallway. "...Stairwell ... blocked" was all he had been able to call in. Find another way, another stairwell, down this hall.... He ran as best he could, clumsily banging into the walls.

Hang on little baby.

The fire was surging behind him, reaching out to him, mocking his attempt to escape it….

Can you out run the Devil?

The debris rained down, glancing off his helmet, fires flared up before him when the ceiling tiles hit the carpet. Suddenly he felt something grab at his mask, yank it across the side of his face, bringing him to an abrupt stop, knocking him off his feet. He fell hard on his back and saw a dark form falling on top of him. He had only time to twist his body to the side to protect the baby, then felt the weight crash into his shoulder, sending blinding pain up his arm and back.

I out ran the Devil... and he caught me anyway.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Outside, the Fire Captain, Chuck, looked at the map of the building -- at the top of the West stairwell three hallways met, to the right, left or straight ahead. Jeff had been coming towards the stairs from the straight ahead hall, had he turned left or right when it was blocked to him? Or was he still trapped in that straight hall? Where the hell are you Jeff? Answer me!

The other two firefighters from the 3rd floor ran outside, ripped off their masks, breathed in the fresh air, looking back.... Where's Jeff? He was right behind us.

Another firefighter approached Chuck, "Captain..., dispatch has a message from Jeff's wife.... Should they tell her...?" He asked what the message was, unusual to get a message at a scene unless it was an emergency.... The fireman told him the message. "Damn.... Damn.... No, don't tell her anything yet.... Just that Jeff can't be reached.... When we get him out, we'll give him the message.... " The fireman stared at him, turned and looked at the fire, then back at the captain. Through clenched teeth, the captain said, "When...we...get ....him ....out."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jeff took stock slowly.... He could still move everything, although moving his shoulder sent jolting waves of pain up and down his arm -- he was still breathing, though the mask was pulled to the side of his face. It was a metal cabinet of some kind that had fallen on him.... the handle had tangled in the harness of his mask, as he was running by, pinning him to the cabinet. He could hear the far off voice of his captain coming from the radio...

Oh Chuck, I hear you ... come ... find me ... help me.

He shifted the baby so he could hold it with one arm, and reached back and struggled to untangle the harness. He pressed his hand between his knees and tugged his glove off, he had to be able to feel the straps to untangle it. With the ungloved hand he worked to free himself while his fingers burned against the hot metal.

Devil...caught me….

He pulled it free finally, the cabinet shifted and pressed against Jeff's face, he felt an instant of intense pain, then nothing. He knew he was being branded, seared. The hot handle, with his facemask dangling from it, was pressed against his eye. The weight was crushing him. He felt the skin on his hand tighten from the intense heat. He rocked until he could manage to twist his body to kneeling, and clawed his way out from under it, crawling with one hand, holding tightly on to the baby with the other. When he was free, the fire was nearly upon him. He paused just long enough to unlatch the top of his coat and tuck the baby inside, holding her against his body with his arm, her head cradled in his gloved hand, held against his neck. Breathing took all the strength he had. Stay low ... stay low. He had to find the other stairwell....

God, at least just save the baby.

Jeff was the proverbial tall, dark and handsome man, movie star good looks. He married his high school sweetheart, Cyndi, she was the classic homecoming queen beauty. They were expecting their first child, and everyone commented on how beautiful this child would be. Now Jeff wondered, will I ever see my child? My baby... Oh God Oh God please let me live to see my baby... Chuck ... Chuck ... find me...

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Chuck directed the rescue as well as he could without an exact location -- the crews were split between the two potential areas. The last radio call from Jeff, in a barely audible voice, said only "...no mask ... no air..." Repeated attempts to get more information from him went unanswered.

Dammit Jeffer, where the hell are you?

He had sent two pairs of men in, including the pair who had been right in front of him and knew where he was last seen. But they had to retreat, the heat was too intense, the access blocked. "...no mask ... no air..." They sat, exhausted, against the firetruck with tears running down their faces. They saw that the whole stairwell was gone, the floor Jeff was on was gone.

He was right behind us.

Chuck heard a cheer go up, and looked unbelievingly at the front door of the building. Through the flames was the unmistakable tall silhouette of Jeff, coming towards the doorway, cradling a bundle against his chest. The hoses showered around the area where he was heading, Chuck's eyes gazed upward, Lord in Heaven thank you for...

The cheers abruptly stopped.

They saw Jeff look up, then bend his body protectively over the bundle in his arms as he lunged for the door ... they saw the ceiling beam hit him across his back, slamming him to his knees ... and then they could see nothing but the flaming building crashing down where Jeff had been.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

On his knees, with his face pressed into the floor, Jeff had managed to keep his body arched enough so as not to crush the baby. Now he felt the heat from the ceiling beam burning through his back. He tried to take stock again, tried to move. He tried to kick his legs out, felt shooting pains from his shattered knee. His body wracked with pain, the heat was unbearable, the sharp intake of breath when the beam had hit him had scorched his lungs, his back was on fire, breathing was very nearly impossible….

I outran the Devil three floors up and found my way down here in the smokey dark ... just to die 5 feet from the door? Why God? WHY?

Tears sizzled on his face. He thought of Cyndi's lovely face, her smile, her eyes.... The unborn child he'd never see.…

Why why why? Why can't I live to see my baby? Oh Cyndi I'm so sorry, I never meant to leave you.

He rubbed his thumb along the cheek of the baby he still held, I tried to save you, little baby, I tried so hard.… He had never known such profound terror. Had never felt such extreme pain. Had never felt so totally alone. He laid there, waiting for his fate.

If you're going to take me, take me now. Take me quick.

He felt a strange sensation on his face against the floor, almost soothing -- Liquid.... They were flooding the floor for him. They knew about where he was Lying. They hadn't given up.

He kicked his good leg out in anger, why dammit, why? When he kicked back, he could move along the floor if he slid backwards towards his feet, where he had kicked away the debris. He kicked out again, jabbing at the brick and wood around and on top of him, ignoring the blinding pain in his knee and back, he inched along the floor, still cradling the baby's head in his gloved hand. God, at least just save the baby. He didn't know if the direction he was sliding was towards the door.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Concentrating every effort on the area where Jeff was last seen, the firefighters held their breath and prayed against all hope to save him, wincing each time another part of the building collapsed.

Hang on Jeffer, hang on, we'll get you out.

Don't give up buddy, don't give up.

When they first saw the small debris skittering across the cement towards them they didn't notice it. When it happened a second time, the two firemen from the 3rd floor dropped to the ground, laying on their bellies trying to see beneath the smoke and flame.

"It's a boot! I saw his boot! He's moving!!"

They ran up while the hoses streamed water over them, grabbing that boot, pulling Jeff by the leg, frantically digging with their hands to uncover him from the bricks and burning wood, while more debris rained down around them. The front wall buckled outward....

"Move dammit! Get him out of there NOW! It's coming down!"

They grabbed Jeff's boot and leg and ran backwards, pulling him free of the bricks, pulling him along the cement and across the grass on his back, outrunning the falling wall until they were able to stop long enough to pick him up.

Jeff's screams of pain could be heard above all the other sounds of the fire and the falling building….

Even with Jeff barely conscious, they had to work to pry the baby from his arms.

“Jeff, it's us, let go, let us take care of this baby now, let go"

When they pulled the baby free, Jeff's arms continued to reach out for it. He looked curiously at his own hands, one he recognized, the other was a curved, blackened claw at the end of his sleeve. He felt sharp needles of new pain when they pressed the oxygen mask against his fire ravaged face. He was vaguely aware of the activity around him -- his coat being cut off of him, the IV needle going into his good arm, the gauze being wrapped, the BP cuff.... His body was alternating between numbness and unbearable pain. He saw the sooty, tear streaked faces of the other firefighters, he couldn't quite read the look in their eyes.

Why do they look at me that way? Am I dead after all?

He smiled when he saw Chuck, clawed the mask from his mouth so he could speak. "Chuck..., I knew you'd get me...."

Chuck knelt down close to his face, "I have a message for you, from your wife."

Jeff struggled to focus his eye, the burned eye was swollen shut. "Cyndi...?" Chuck's image swam in and out of focus, he tried to concentrate on Chucks words.

"Jeff.... Cyndi called while you were in the fire. You have a son. She had the baby, it's early, but they're both just fine. You have a son, Jeff."

New tears sprang to his eyes as he comprehended the words. While I outran the Devil, God sent me a son. With his burned, claw-like hand, he gripped Chuck's hand -- the charred skin split and bled. He didn't notice, he didn't care.... He had a son. Those were the words that he heard in his mind as everything faded to black.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Cyndi smelled the familiar smokey odor before she saw him. She snuggled the baby close, "Are you ready to meet your daddy?" She was thinking this was the happiest day of her life. She saw the sooty turnout pants before she looked up, the smile froze on her face, then faded, it wasn't Jeff. It was Chuck, holding his helmet, turning it around and around in his hands. A moan escaped her throat, No ... No ... No!

Chuck quickly sat down on the edge of the bed and said in a rush, "He isn't dead."

She stared at him, waiting for more. "....What then? How bad?"

"Burned, broken, it's bad, Cyndi. He saved... a baby. He knows ... about this..." He looked down at the newborn sleeping in her arms. "I told him he had a son. I thought it would help him ... hold on." Then he did what some might consider an un-captain like thing to do. He wrapped his arms around Cyndi and her newborn son, broke down and cried.

They cried together.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Cyndi thought she was prepared when she entered Jeff's hospital room, where her strong and handsome husband lay unconscious, on life support, barely clinging to life. Her first sight of his face was the same face she woke up to every morning.... reddened, like a bad sunburn, but virtually unmarked. A small curved cut beneath the eye, a small bruise on the jaw.

She insisted on staying when they unwrapped the other side of his face to change the dressings. She thought she was prepared. The other side of his face was... gone. It didn't resemble a face at all. Cyndi was glad he was unconscious, unable to see that they had to catch her as she nearly fainted, unable to see the tears that poured down her face as a thousand emotions went through her. And again, when they unwrapped his hand. She felt angry, hurt, betrayed, furious at the unfairness of it all.... But in the end, she only asked God to keep him alive, bring him back to her. She would take him any way she could, she couldn't bear the thought of being without him.

You're still my Jeff. I love you.

Jeff lay in a coma, battling for every breath, for 27 days. He underwent multiple surgeries for skin grafts on his back, neck, hand and face. The burned eye could not be saved. A white form was put in the socket to hold the shape until he healed enough to be fitted for a glass eye. Pins and plates held together his shattered knee, a rod was inserted in his spine. He would face many more surgeries and months of painful physical therapy to regain partial use of his burned hand, to walk again, to bend his back, to turn his head. He also had broken his leg, cheekbone, jaw and several ribs. The damage to his organs and lungs from breathing in superheated smoke was permanent and devastating. He would never return to firefighting. But he lived. He remembers thinking in his darkest moments that what kept him going was knowing he had a son who needed him.

He began to automatically put his hand up to cover the burned side of his face whenever people came to see him. When he was first able to see his son, he was afraid he would scare him. Cyndi said no, he has never seen your face, all he will see is the face of his father. All he will see is love. The baby reached up and touched his face, and gurgled like babies do.

God, if this is the last day of my life I'll die happy, you let me live to see my son.

Women still turned their heads to look at Jeff's movie star good looks... until he turned towards them and they saw the other side of his face, and then he saw that flash of horror as they quickly turned away. But his son, who is now 6 years old, never questioned why the two sides of daddy's face didn't match. Or why when he held his daddy's hands they were so different from each other. He only saw his father's face, he only saw the love.

The grandmother of the baby Jeff saved said it best. She saw him at his worse, when the scars were ridged and bright red, in contrast to the white of the eyeless eye. She came, with the baby, to thank him for saving her daughter's infant. She saw him raise his hand up, and she gently took it away, she looked into his face and said, "Never should you cover this face. This is the face of the man God chose to save a child of His. This is the face...of an angel."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

E p i l o g u e

Because of Jeff's relentless efforts to protect the baby from the fire, the baby made a complete recovery, and escaped the fire with very minor burns and injuries. The baby's grandmother is lovingly raising the girl, who she named Laticia. She sees it as her second chance to raise a daughter.

The baby was the black illegitimate child of a teenage runaway -- the young woman who was curled around the baby when Jeff found it. Some people asked Jeff why he did all that he did at such great harm to himself, "just to save a homeless black kid." Jeff could only stare at them dumbfounded with his one remaining eye, and say "A child... is a child" but there are some who just don't understand. The value of a life is not based on color, where you live, how successful you are. All lives are worthy of being saved. Jeff once said he wondered if his purpose on Earth was to be there to keep that baby alive, and he wonders what will become of her, what impact she might have on the world.

I wish I could say Jeff and Cyndi and their boy lived happily ever after.... Jeff lived everyday since that fire in pain.... The pain of his wounds, the pain of struggling for every breath with damaged lungs, the pain of his disabilities, and the pain that only the disfigured can truly understand. Cyndi and him, knowing how fragile life can be, cherished every moment they had with each other, and with their child. Five years after Jeff's final fire, his brittle lungs could take no more. On a clear December night 3 days before Christmas, God freed him from his pain and took him home.

Jeff was killed in the line of duty that day.... It just took him five years to die.

I have been a firefighter for 6 years, this was one of my first fires. I was on the third floor.

Jeff was right behind me.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

May your angels ride with you on every call,
Peace Out,
Kal