Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Preston

"I'm going to have to shift," I say into the handset.

"Negative!" Garrett says. "Negative. There are too many non-shifters there." He's talking about the other firefighters, not the civilians. Garrett is a gorilla shifter, the only one I know. There aren't a lot. He says there are more gorilla shifters than any other kind but they remain secretive and hidden away. The legends of giant apes come from them.

Who knows?

I'm a panther, and as a panther, I could easily climb up to the second floor where a number of civilians wait, facing certain death from the smoke and flames unless someone gets to them. "I don't see another way, damn it," I say.

"Negative!" he repeats.

And then, the stairway collapses. There are a great many shouts from the people upstairs on the landing, and I find it very difficult to keep from shifting automatically. Usually, it's anger that will make a shifter shift without the conscious decision to do so. However, it can happen with any very strong emotion. In this case, the very strong emotion is concern for the safety of the people on that floor.

This is a bad fire.

This is a very bad fire.

I could repeat that sentence a thousand times and add a new very with each repetition. I'm on the verge of ignoring Garrett and just shifting.

But then Garrett says, "Four panel multi-pane window. See it?"

"Yeah."

"Clear it."

"Hey!" I shout over the flames. A man looks down at me. "Move everyone back toward the doors. Not through them, just back. Now!"

Progress is slow but I shout a few more times and then unleash the hose, slowly moving it closer to the crowd. They get the idea and move faster as instructed. When the area around the window is free of people, I say into the handheld, "Clear."

Garrett doesn't reply directly but counts down. "Five. Four. Three." After five seconds, the window shatters. A few seconds later, I see a big, yellow bucket from one of the engines and a firefighter climbs off. He gestures toward the people and I shout, "Children first. Move in an orderly fashion!"

Another firefighter climbs out. No. Two. They have this covered; I think. "They're here, Garett, what next?"

"Come out," he says, "and bring your men through the main entrance."

"Roger," I say.

I turn and Vic, Todd, and Mike are ready to go. Things in a fire can be crazy. I realize I've actually forgotten somehow that they can hear the damned radio just like I can. "All right," I call, "let's go." They nod and we make our way around some smoldering rafters toward the door. "Todd, Mike. Soak these. We'll wait out there for you."

Vic and I step out and it's amazing (as it always is) how much cooler it feels to be out in the open air. The oppressiveness of the moment is gone. Of course, the difference I feel is only on my face. I'm still overheated as hell under the big, heavy fire coat.

"Are we going to be able to save anyone else?" Vic asks. He's a shifter, too. Todd and Mike as well. The three of them are leopards, and that makes the four of us rivals, in a sense. We're always teasing each other. Ultimately, I'm a leopard.

Black panthers are leopards. But I have a jet-black coat that hides my spots. They look like standard albeit very, very large leopards. And for some reason, panthers are far larger than other cat shifters. I look like I have a solid black coat.

Very few people, shifter or not, have the guts to look closely enough at a panther shifter's coat to see the very subtle shading differences of our spots.

But now isn't the time to think about that crap. Now, I'm a firefighter trying to control a situation that would have the average person running in the opposite direction.

There's no real time to think, but everything has to be carefully thought of when considering how to handle a scene like this. And to make it worse, I notice that there are already some TV crews setting up and ready to have fun raking in the ratings over fear and tragedy.

"Fucking ghouls."

I look at Mike and nod. "Yeah, but let's focus on something important, like the people still out of our reach."

"The first floors are clear. Let's get to spraying those down and maybe it will give us an open avenue."

I shake my head. "Or create even more structural damage."

Time is ticking. This is hell. Garrett yells into my earpiece. "What are you doing?!"

Fuck! "We're just out now. Going to head around and see if there's a better entrance."

Garrett sounds like he's ready to beat his chest. "Do it then!"

I hustle us around the building. I'm thankful for being hidden from the media goons because I'm really thinking I'm going to defy Garrett and every logical part of my brain. ‘I'm going to shift. You guys get one of the trucks over here and focus on the top, but below the floor where we know there are still people."

Vic shakes his head. "That's a negative, man. Look, they're bringing out the big guns. They got the people they could. They're not waiting. And we can't grab a truck and redirect."

Todd chimes in. "Man, we don't even know if the reports of more people are reliable. We need to do as Cap says."

"What the hell? He's not a captain, for fuck's sake. He's just the team lead. And I'm telling you, we are not going to stand here." My reputation as a hothead, though many times meant jokingly, seems real enough now. "So, I better damn well hurry."

The guys look unhappy, but I picture Joel in there and I just can't leave things alone. "They may get to them, they may control things in time, but I just can't ignore the possibility."

"God, Preston, you really don't know your nature." It's a casual insult that shifters throw around, but it gets my goat this time when Todd says it.

So, I'm about to make a very big mistake and do a very public thing when I see a truck come around the corner. A very angry Garrett is directing. He hops down and gives some instructions to the other guys, instructions that sound very similar to what I just said, and now he's coming for me.

"What the fuck are you doing? I told you to stand down from the shifting nonsense and let the crew handle it. You're just too damned stubborn, Pres."

"Fuck arguing right now. I'm going to help." I run over to help steady the hose and to aim it into one of the highest windows. I'm ignoring everything, Garrett's anger, the news cameras and the babble that always fills a scene like this. I see only the flames and the water and the smoke.

I don't want to see if anybody appears trapped. I don't want to think that we left anyone behind to die because we're busy guarding a secret that isn't even a real secret.

Well, the fire takes some time but it does come under control with an eventual attack on all sides. Extra engines from a neighboring department have to join the fight, but it finally does cool. And we also discover that there were actually no other individuals left in the building. Which should make me feel better.

My emotions, though, stay red hot. I've always hated how we hide our abilities. The public has been made aware of the presence of shifters, but not in any real everyday way, and I find that fucking ridiculous. We're different but we could do a lot of good. Scratch that, we do a lot of good already, damn it!

I blame my later silence with the guys on exhaustion, but I just keep seeing Joel in that building, trapped and wondering why his dad won't come to save him.

This isn't the first time I've thought along those lines but I think it's the first time it impacts my job so definitively.