39

Control - Halsey

A s I think about these past few weeks with Amelia, I feel completely content. Between her place and our spontaneous, secret dates—picnics out in the bush, leading to multiple sessions of fooling around, to even fucking in the back of my ute one afternoon—we've been at it like teenagers discovering sex for the first time. I can't get enough of her, and she feels the same. For once, I'm completely full of happiness.

Somehow, we've managed to keep our relationship under wraps, even with our friends around. The other night at the Loose Lasso, the sexual tension between us was palpable. I just hope it wasn't too obvious to our friends. My mum's been acting strange, but Olivia… Well, she hasn't said or noticed anything. Thank fuck for that, at least for now.

But life always has a way of throwing curveballs, disrupting our rhythm.

A series of house fires have broken out in a town about an hour away, and all units have been called to assess the damage. Of course, that includes our station. I'm gearing up at the station now, ready to head out with the boys—Faulkner leading the case. Nerves start to prickle at my skin. We haven't had anything this drastic in years.

And this? This is bad.

The fire has spread wide, with five homes now a total loss and fifteen people severely injured. Casualties? We'll know when we arrive at the scene. I pull out my phone and dial Xavier's number. He answers on the first ring.

"Xavier?" I say, my voice tense.

"Bradley," Xavier's voice comes through the phone, full of relief. "We're all here—Isla, Liv, Mum, and Dad. I've put you on speaker so they can hear you. What's going on? We just saw the news."

"I'm good, Xav," I reassure him quickly. "We're about to head out there now. I can't say much more until we assess the situation. I just wanted to let you all know I'm safe." Mum's voice in the background cracks my heart. They shouldn't worry; I'll be fine. If anyone's sweating it, it's me, not them. All in a day's work, for a Friday.

But something deep down tells me this isn't going to be one of those days.

Xavier's voice snaps me back. "Okay, be careful, Bradley. Keep us updated. We love you." His words hit hard, crack something open, but I can't say it back now.

"Alright. Gotta go."

Dad's voice breaks in. "Son. See you back home later, yeah?" They act like they're not sure I'll be coming home. But we'll get it under control, with ambulance and fire services, surely .

"Yes, Dad. Relax, I'll see you soon."

"Love you, son."

"Yeah. You too."

Faulkner gives a quick nod, signalling to wrap it up. "Okay, gotta go. Bye." I end the call, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me—concern for the situation, gratitude for their support, and a steely focus on the task ahead. I know I gotta let Amelia know I'm alright, but the thought of her fretting tears at me. Those three little words are on the edge of my tongue. Do I feel that? Fucked if I know. Right now, all I know is I've got a job to do, and I need my head on straight.

Still, I pull out my phone and shoot her a quick text.

A text from her pings back almost immediately.

I'll be waiting for you.

That's all I need to keep my worries in check.

As we get closer, the glow of the flames paints everything in an eerie light, giving the whole area a spooky vibe. The houses, all lined up in a row, look like they've seen better days. They're off on their own, away from the busy town square. The rural Fire and Rescue Team is already there, with their bright red trucks and flashing lights standing out against the dark night sky, like a sign of hope in the middle of all this chaos. Faulkner walks off to meet a few of the other team members, and I join in on the conversation, Daniels and Reynolds following behind me.

"Faulkner, good to see you," Gerry Holmes, the Deputy Captain of the NSW Fire and Rescue Team, greets him, his voice tense. "We've got a real mess here. Looks like it started from one of these houses." He gestures to the row of homes engulfed in flames. Faulkner nods, his expression grave.

"We're trying to contain it, but the spread is rapid. We need to get everyone out of these homes," Gerry continues.

"We need to find the source fast. If it's a gas leak, we'll need to shut it off before it causes more damage," Faulkner adds.

Kurt Black, who I know to be the lead unit commander for NSW SES team, joins in. "We've got ambulances on standby for any injuries. Let's get to work, boys." The three of them exchange determined looks, knowing the urgency of the situation.

"Let's do this," Faulkner says, rallying our team. "Safety first, everyone. Let's get these people out of harm's way."

Faulkner's voice cuts through the chaos as he directs Woody and Stokes to lead traffic control for all conjoining, adjacent roads and concealed driveways.

He then turns to us—Reynolds, Daniels, and I—ordering us on scene safety. "Ensure that the scene remains safe for firefighters, emergency service workers, and members of the public working in its vicinity," he commands. Faulkner's words put us right on the front line of the fires.

We're not firefighters, but our jobs are just as important.

Reynolds and Daniels both nod to me, understanding the gravity of the situation. We quickly gear up with our protective wear before heading closer to the fires, ready to do our part in ensuring the safety of everyone involved.

As we approach the fires, the intensity of the situation becomes palpable. The heat is unbearable, and the flames seem to dance wildly, defying any attempts to control them. The smoke billows thick and dark, making it hard to see and even harder to breathe.

In the middle of the chaos, the screams of people trapped in their homes cut through the air, making the situation even more urgent. Firefighters are everywhere, working non-stop to get the fire under control. Ladders are up, water hoses are spraying, and paramedics are on standby, ready to jump in and help.

Victims who have managed to escape the flames are being tended to by paramedics in their vans, their faces filled with shock and fear.

Reynolds shouts over the roar of the fire. "Fucking hell. They need to get these people out now!"

A firefighter beside us chimes in, his face grim with determination. "We'll go in, mate. Cover for us," one of them says, his voice steady despite the chaos.

Another firefighter adds, "We'll get them out. Just keep the area clear for us."

As they rush toward the house, a series of explosions erupt, sending shards of glass flying in all directions. The windows shatter one by one, adding to the already chaotic scene. The screams and wails for help echo through the air, sending a chill down my spine.

My heart drops out of my chest as I watch the firefighters disappear into the burning building, knowing the dangers they face. Reynolds and I stand ready, our eyes fixed on the house, waiting for any sign of the firefighters and the people they're trying to rescue.

Meanwhile, Woody and Stokes are doing their best to control the traffic, but the situation is quickly spiralling out of control. Faulkner's voice crackles over the radio. "We need backup! The fire's spreading faster than we can contain it!"

I grit my teeth, feeling the strain of the situation weighing heavily on me. "We need to work fast. Lives are at stake here."

As I say this, a firefighter returns, running out with a woman under his arm, covered in soot, and her clothes burnt and singed. Behind him, another firefighter holds a young boy, who is screaming and crying. The boy looks to be around ten or eleven years old.

Fucking hell.

More screams break out as the team spreads out to the other home beside this one. Faulkner's voice comes through the radios strapped to our chests. "Stay focused, boys. We're sending more backup. Just hold on tight. I'll be there in five."

Suddenly, I spot movement in a window on the second floor. "Copy Radio. All units, I spot movement, second floor. There might be someone still trapped inside."

Faulkner appears beside me after a few minutes, asking, "Where? Point."

I point to the window, and as I do, the same woman we just pulled out screams, her cries louder than a banshee. "My HUSBAND! He's still INSIDE. He's with my d-daughter. Please HELP THEM!" Her voice cracks, and my eyes widen.

Without hesitation, I run up to the woman and ask, "Your daughter is still inside? And your husband?"

"Yes! Please help them!"

At the same time, a firefighter comes to her, saying, "We're doing everything we can, Miss. That part of the house has been compromised. The staircase leading up to that room has collapsed. We'll need to get them from the outside." She's inconsolable.

"NO! PLEASE! You have to go in. Please save them." The firefighter takes off his helmet. "I assure you, our team is doing everything we can right now." She starts wailing.

"How old is your daughter?" I ask, remaining calm.

"She's three. Please, God . She's only THREE."

My heart drops. Three-fucking-years-old.

At such a young age, this little girl can't comprehend what's happening, and she must be completely petrified. My heart cracks, and immediately my mind goes to Millie, Amelia's niece.

She's the same age. Fuck.

My body turns cold at the thought. Springing into action, I turn to the firefighter. "Get in there. Do what you need to do now!"

"Now, mate. Calm down. I have my boys assessing the situation."

"You don't fucking have time! She's three years old. Get to the window, get them to open it from the inside, pull them out."

Fuck, it's not my job to be thinking of this. It's theirs .

I understand they're in dire circumstances.

"Oi. I don't take orders from you," the firefighter retorts.

At that moment, my radio crackles. "Copy Radio. Mitchell, we need you here."

"Copy. On my way," I say as I sprint back to the scene, and as I do, Faulkner barks my name out. I keep running back toward Daniels and Reynolds.

As the firefighters start to move the ladders up to the window where the man and little girl are trapped, every step, every movement makes me hold my breath. The intensity of the situation is overwhelming, and I can feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on me.

I watch anxiously as the firefighters reach the window and try to open it from the outside. The mother's cries for help echo in my ears, and I can't shake the image of her husband and daughter trapped inside.

Suddenly, as they attempt to open the window, it shatters, sending shards of glass flying. The fire spreads rapidly over the area around us, the heat pressing against my face and body, suffocating and intense. I hear the crackling of the flames, a harsh, relentless roar that drowns out everything else. The smoke grows thicker, curling around us like a suffocating blanket, while the wind feeds the flames, spreading them further. The heat is unbearable, radiating off the flames and adding to the growing chaos.

"I'm moving closer. Fuck this. I need to help," I bark out.

"Are you fucking mental? Leave it to them," Reynolds yells back over the noise.

"Mitchell. Stop!" Daniels says, stepping in front of me.

"I can't just fucking sit here and watch." I push forward, throwing myself closer to the fire. I cover my face, coughing as the fumes enter my lungs, pushing forward despite the warnings from the firefighters behind me.

"All units, movement has been spotted. A young girl. She's alone. A body is near her, but no movement from the man. Copy." The radio crackles.

I'm not thinking rationally; I'm not thinking at all. All I see is that little girl trapped in there, her father not moving.

I see those sparkling brown eyes.

I see a little girl that I've come to know all too well just recently .

The little girl is clinging to the edge of the windowsill, probably trying to move away from the spreading flames. She looks down and spots me, her eyes wide with fear, before crying out louder. I manage to get just underneath the window and call out to her.

"Jump. I need you to jump, sweetheart. I'll catch you."

"I want my mummy. I want my mummy," she cries.

I weigh my options. By the time the firefighter repositions the ladder to get closer again, another burst might erupt. The second floor isn't too much higher up from the ground floor, probably about five metres, give or take.

"Your mummy is here. I need you to jump. I'll take you to her," I shout, trying to overpower the sounds of walls crashing and glass shattering.

"That's a police officer. Get him out of there!" a voice crackles over the radio.

A bunch of firefighters and men from the SES team run up beside me, barking orders. "What the bloody hell are ya doing, mate? You need to move before the house blows!" one of them shouts, grabbing my arm and trying to pull me away from the burning building.

"I can't leave her! She's just a kid," I protest, struggling against the firefighter's grip.

"We'll get her out, mate, but you need to move now! It's not safe. It could blow any minute," another firefighter insists, pulling me back as flames lick at the window above us.

"I'm not fucking moving. Help me . Get her to jump. I'll catch her," I bark at them, my voice desperate. They ponder it for a moment, exchanging quick glances, before nodding to me. One of them barks out orders for the rest to follow.

"Grab a tarp sheet, and move the ladder closer to the girl," he commands. Another firefighter breaks down what's going to happen.

"We'll position the tarp below the window. You stay ready to catch her when she jumps. We'll do our best to guide her out safely." I nod in approval, my heart pounding in my chest.

As they scream for her to jump, a firefighter creeps closer, climbing further onto the ladder as they move it slowly, inspecting where the father lies beside her.

"Copy Radio. Spotted the father. Moving closer. Over," the firefighter reports over the radio, his voice tense with urgency.

"Come on, sweetheart, you can do it! Jump!" I shout, my heart in my throat. Crashes echo from behind her, followed by a surge of smoke and fire bursting from the windows. The little girl screeches, hesitating for a moment, fear clear in her eyes.

But then, with a final, desperate cry, she leaps from the window. In that split second, I lunge forward, my body instinctively reaching out to catch her. I manage to get under her just in time, breaking her fall as we hit the ground with a thud.

Pain shoots up my arm and down my back as I crash onto my shoulder, but I push through it, my focus on the little girl in my arms. She's crying and shaking, but she's safe . That's all that matters. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, a rush of relief and adrenaline surging through me.

I've never felt more alive, more aware of life's fragility .

In seconds, firefighters pry her from my grasp, wrapping her in a fireproof blanket and carrying her away. The intensity of the moment lingers, the sounds of chaos and rescue efforts filling the air as I lie here on the ground—feeling the weight of what just happened.

"Fuck," I grit out, as pain radiates through my arm when I attempt to stand. Someone grabs my shoulder, and I bark out in agony.

"Mitchell, you stupid cunt. That was fucking amazing." It's Daniels. Relief washes over me, but as the adrenaline fades, the pain in my shoulder sharpens, becoming nearly unbearable.

It could be dislocated. Or broken.

It takes seconds , just seconds, for everything to change, leaving us no time to comprehend what's happening until it's too late.

An explosion erupts nearby, the force of it causing my ears to ring and pain to shoot through my head. The blast knocks both Daniels and me back, sending us sprawling. Daniels hits the ground beside me with a grunt. Smoke engulfs us, thick and suffocating.

Muffled screams echo around us, chaos reasserting itself. I feel myself being dragged, a dull ache spreading through my body.

And then it stops.

Just like that, everything goes black.