Give All My Secrets Away

Black-Angel-001: so the last time this was updated was in april, and hasn't been touched since. that's partly because of a loss on what to write and then more because of family and what was happening there that all just carried over and built up. i apologize for not updating or at least giving y'all a note, but at the time it just wasn't a priority. now however, i have something! hope you enjoy

Give All My Secrets Away

"Don't you dare look out your window darling everything's on fire, the war outside our door keeps raging on." -Taylor Swift ft The Civil Wars, 'Safe and Sound'

There was a long running joke among firefighters, and the public, that firefighters were never going to hell because they would simply put out the fire there. Only the men (and some women, now. Times were chaning, for the better in this case) who wore the turnout gear shared a knowing look: they'd already fought the fires of hell on Earth, in the form of forest fires.

It was a pretty apt description, Roy thought as the engine crested a hill and he saw the flames and smoke licking up the green and black hillside for the first time. This wasn't his first fire, this actually made it his eigth in his entire time as a fireman. He heard one of the men from Palo Alto's Station 10 whistle and agreed quietly.

The fire was large, spreading out well over 20 acres of land owned privately and by the state. Neighborhoods had been evacuated and farmers and ranchers were still moving out their animals. The wind was pushing the flames and sparks up and over, threatening even more counties beyond the L.A. area.

A familiar humming buzz from overhead made Roy lean forward to watch a Boeing 747 flew over and made a 24,000 gallon drop of water spread out over the fire. Now at the bottom of the hill, Roy couldn't see the effect but hoped it was a good one. The Boeing banked left, and Roy assumed it was heading back to base for another fill up.

Engine 10 of Palo Alto pulled up to the command center, parked and the crew jumped out. The captain, Frank Myers, and Roy headed directly over to the chief who was directing the action. After giving one last order, Chief turned to them.

"It's not good," the chief said without preamble, already knowing what they were going to ask. "We've managed to control the fire in this area," he circled a finger over a pinned up map, "and here," he pointed to another area. "Reports indicate those should be out before the day is over. It's here that the trouble is. A wind is coming off the mountains which isn't helping. The weather is still dry with no rain at all in the forcast. At this point all we can do is try and prevent it from spreading and contain it to this area. Myers, you and your crew are going to be joining up with L.A. 8 and 119 on the west end." He pointed to the area where two red pins were up on the map. "Its residential, evacuated, and unfortunately most of the homes are already involved. You just have to help make sure it doesn't get farther."

Myers nodded and felt a pang for the families who would have nothing to return to, but pushed it aside for now. He had a job to do, and needed to focus on it. He clapped Roy on the shoulder and headed for his engine, calling to his men what the orders were and getting ready to head out.

"DeSoto, your engine is out right now over here on the south side," Chief pointed the area out, where there were three red pins and a blue one. "You'll be teaming up with Engine 20; they need a lineman." There wasn't an elaboration but Roy figured it meant a man was down for that company. He nodded. "They're here now getting water and some food; there's gear over there for you too. Get going and be careful."

"Right Chief." Roy jogged over to the large tent set up where men covered in smoke were either drinking water, eating a sandwich, or just taking a rest. Roy got his gear, turnout coat, pants, boots, helmet, and oxygen, and headed to where he could see the men of 20 eating. He snagged his own water and sandwhich, knowing it may be the last he has for a while, and headed over.

"Roy DeSoto reporting," he told the Captian, a young man by the name of Mark Riordan, who stood and shook his hand.

"Glad to have you with us, Roy. That's our engineer, Rick, and then we've got Steve, and Harry. You're taking over for Peter." His voice became slightly hushed. "He ended up with bad smoke inhalation."

Roy nodded sympathetically. "Sorry, hope he comes through."

Mark nodded and then there was no time for more talk; Engine 20 was called out and the men sprung into action, hoping this wouldn't be the last for any of them.