Prologue

Flames danced in the night sky, as if attempting to reach for the stars. Prometheus touching the resting place of the Gods. Heat scorched the earth, so hot it melted the nearby asphalt. The historical building on fire was the third in a row, and it went without saying a pyromaniac was loose in the city.

Reece stood next to his partner, Joe Banks, staring up at the inferno, on standby if their captain signaled for them to enter. Firefighters always worked in teams of two, a type of buddy system, to monitor each other's whereabouts. Two in, two out, was the saying. He looked down the line and saw his best friend, Dan Stephens, manning one of the hoses in an effort to help extinguish the hellfire currently kicking their asses.

A commotion from the gathered civilian witnesses drew their attention, and the chief hurried over, speaking with someone in the crowd who kept indicating the building. A moment later, the captain came back, looking grim.

"That's the curator," he said, talking over the roar of the fire. "He said the handyman hasn't answered his phone."

"And that pertains to us, why?" Joe asked.

"He might be in there."

"Might be?" Joe asked skeptically.

"Apparently, he'd been working late to fix something or other. Didn't really care about the details except for the fact that a man might be trapped in there."

Joe glanced at Reece, dawning horror filling his eyes. They knew what this meant. The main reason firefighters entered a burning building was to help anyone trapped inside.

"Fuck," Joe muttered.

"Is there a location he might be? Or are we just exploring blind?"

"Blind, I'm afraid," the captain said. "Do one preliminary sweep and if you don't see him, get the fuck out. Understood?"

"Crystal," Joe replied. He clapped his gloved hands together. "All right. Let's do this."

He flipped his helmet down, adjusting the breathing apparatus. He held up a thumb to Reece, who followed with his own helmet. He returned the thumbs-up and Joe led them into Hell. Their equipment helped shield them from the intensity of the fire, but it wasn't completely foolproof. They had a short amount of time to get in, find their handyman, and then get out of there.

"Can you hear me?" Joe asked, his voice filtering through the radio in his mask.

"Loud and clear, old man," Reece replied.

"Fuck off with the ‘old man'. Not retiring yet."

Reece grinned. Joe had been his mentor when he had first started with Firehouse Seventy-Two, a fresh-faced rookie with wide eyes and hero worship. Now, ten years later, there wasn't anyone else he wanted to walk into a burning building with.

Inside was nothing but chaos. Smoke curled at the ceiling level, thick plumes of grey swelling up from the ground. Flames licked up the walls to play peek-a-boo through the beams. The heat was far worse than he expected and he tread carefully behind Joe. There was nothing to the right and left of them, and he realized nothing could've survived. The crackle of flames steadily rose in intensity, as the creak and groan of timbers contracted. Glass shattered and turned into hissing puddles as the temperature rose even more, and Reece knew when to throw in the towel. He tapped on Joe's shoulder then the older man turned, nodding his understanding. It was time to get the hell out of there. He turned, taking lead, and retracing his steps.

One foot in front of the other. The exit was there, within reach, but just as they reached it, a hollow moan came from beneath them. Reece hesitated, and in that split-second, everything went wrong. He and Joe looked down. They knew that sound. It was the death knell for any firefighter. Reece had no time to think about his life or his family. No time to mourn for all that would be over. Each firefighter knew it might go this way, their death coming on the swift wings of fire. He also knew that pain would only be intense for the first thirty seconds or so, only until the nerve endings were burned away.

Then he was flying forward as Joe pushed him, hard, out of the building. He fell safely onto the ground outside the fire, and two of his fellow fighters yanked him away from the blaze. Once far enough away, he pulled his helmet off and turned to thank Joe. Only… he wasn't there. It took a moment for his brain to come to the realization that Joe didn't make it out. That his last action on Earth was to push Reece to safety.

No. No, no, no!

An agonized cry tore out of him. Shock, fear, denial shifted through Reece, driving him to his knees. His tears dried up immediately from the heat radiating outward as his heart broke.