1
Trent
I was in the residential area, hanging out in the fridge because it was hella hot that day when we got notified that a fire had erupted. Slamming the refrigerator, I rush out to put my clothes on, jumping over chairs that have fallen down from the guys getting up from their football game.
The energy is hyped but calm and none of us speak a word as we put our suits on. Stabbing my legs through my pants, I swing the jacket over my shoulder before grabbing my hat.
Running toward the fire truck, we all jump inside and turn on the sirens, driving out into the street. The sun is high up on the sky, making me squint through the windows and I throw and eye on the GPS. Says that the location of the fire is in the Black Horn Forest and I’m relieved. Nobody lives up there which means that there probably are no victims.
I’ve worked as a firefighter since my early twenties and to this day I’ve never regretted my choice. I’ve saved more lives than I can count and people look at us as heroes here in Chairman’s Cove. I moved to this place a couple of years ago and I’ve made a decent life for myself. If you can even call it a life, since I spend most of my days at the fire station.
Every day is rinse and repeat but it’s worth it. I sleep well at night, knowing that I do a respectable job. Knowing that I am a respectable man. I frown as we start nearing in on the woods because I thought the fire would be bigger.
Luckily it doesn’t seem like it has spread, which is miracle in this wind still weather. There’s not a single breeze outside, everything lazy and calm except for the small inferno and the smoke that makes its way up to the sky in thick tendrils.
It seems like we won’t be able to drive the firetruck all the way up there, because there is no proper road, the area surrounded by trees so we stop the truck and barge out. Grabbing the hose, I rush into the forest with it in a firm grip while my colleagues are right behind me.
At the sight of what’s burning, my chest expands in relief. It’s just a rundown shed, no humans or animals around and I start shooting water at it.
“Looks like we were lucky today,” my colleague Lance shouts and I nod in agreement, assassinating the last flames and then I gesture for the water to be turned off.
Brushing my sweat off my forehead, I look up when my other colleague Bill comes to stand beside me.
“You think the fire started because of the dryness?” he asks but I shrug.
“Not sure. Maybe I’d believe it if the wood was older, but it doesn’t look like it,” I answer, brushing my hand over the doorframe but I doubt the wood is any older than five years.
“You think it was intentional?”
Bending my head, I look in through the dusty windows. There’s nothing in there, except for a broom. Frowning I mutter, “Doubt it.”
But we’re going to have to examine the area to be sure.
The rest of the guys scatter as we search the lands for any evidence of what could have happened. Crouching down, I brush the earth with my gloves, a knot forming between my brows when I notice three matches.
Fuck.
Not fully sure why and acting on some ancient instinct, I drop the matches into my pocket.
“Found anything?” Lance asks behind me and I slowly rise.
“Nothing,” I reply. “You?”
Our eyes meet, his eyes narrowing slightly but then he shrugs. “Nothing.”
“Do you smell that by the way?” I ask. “In the air?”
“Yeah, it’s called smoke,” Bill says being a wise ass as always. But it’s not smoke, it’s something else that’s lingering. Sweet and slightly cloying.
Feminine.
No smoke that I know smells that way and I scan the area. I don’t know what I’m looking for. Maybe a pair of eyes watching us. Lips. The owner who that scent belongs to.
But I see nothing.
“Trent,” Bill calls, grabbing my attention and he walks over to me. “Look what I found.”
It’s a small piece of a mirror and we all look at each other because we know what that means.