Submerged

“No rest for the wicked,” he reminded his reflection.

Then he went back to work.

Ten minutes later, all hell broke loose.

While Marcus finished dispatching emergency crews to the scene of an overturned oil truck, Leo was handling a fire.

“Okay, ma’am,” he heard Leo say. “What’s the address of the fire?” There was a pause. “An apartment building? Is anybody inside?”

Marcus flew into dispatch mode, connecting to the fire department, while the casuals contacted Ambulance and Police. All the while, Leo kept the caller on the line, relaying information to Marcus and Shipley as it came in.

The call was a bad one―a gas fire in a large four-story apartment building in downtown Hinton. The building was engulfed in flames, and an unknown number of people were trapped inside. Others, visibly wounded and in shock, sat in the grass across the street and watched their lives as they knew it go up in flames.

“There’s one fire truck in the immediate area,” Marcus said to Shipley, who was hanging over his shoulder.

“How many of ours are available?”

“Edson is down to two trucks. The others were sent to the overturned rig between here and Hinton.”

“And one was sent to a barn fire over an hour ago,” Leo interjected, one hand muffling the microphone of his headset.

Shipley stood with hands on hips. “Fine. Taylor, send both our trucks.”

A shiver teased Marcus’s spine. “Maybe we should hold one back in case we have another emergency.”

“Things’ll slow down after this.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Well, aren’t you little Miss Doom-and-Gloom.”

“I have a feeling―”

“A feeling?” Shipley snorted with derision. “You want me to make a call on a feeling?” His eyes narrowed. “What are you on, Taylor? You should know by now that we’re not Edmonton. We rarely see this much action in one night. I think we’ve filled our quota.”

Marcus opened his mouth to argue, then shut it. Shipley was his supervisor, and that trumped a weird premonitory feeling, something he’d never experienced before, though he did see ghosts. Jane. Ryan. The children in the woods in Cadomin. He’d first seen them a few days before his wife and son had been killed. He’d never told a soul about those kids. Not even Leo.

“You still with us, Taylor?”

Marcus blinked back the memory of pale faces staring at him through the cabin window. “Yeah. I’m on this.”

He relayed the address of the fire to the station in Edson, then connected to EMS. Seconds later, two ambulances were on their way. A third was being sent from Edmonton.

“There are two STARS helicopters on standby to take the most critical burn victims to the U of A Hospital,” Leo stated.

A niggling sensation crawled over Marcus’s skin.

Leo frowned. “You okay?”

“I think I’ve had too much coffee.”

Whatever it was, it burned in the pit of his stomach and began rising in his throat until he thought he’d puke.

“I need to step out,” he said, flagging down one of the casuals. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

“Where you going?” Shipley demanded.

“Break room. I need some water.”

His supervisor eyed him with suspicion. “Long as that’s all you’re drinking.”

“Wanna test me for that too?” Marcus snapped. “Fine. Go ahead.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Well, don’t.”

Marcus stalked off in search of a clean glass.

Chapter Twelve

Near Cadomin, AB – Friday, June 14, 2013 – 10:49 PM

Rebecca first became aware of the drumming. It filtered through her consciousness, sounding an alert in her brain like a blaring home security alarm. Except there was no sound, merely a growing sense of danger.

Wherever she was, it was dark. And cold.

Something pressed against her chest. It was difficult to breathe. She tried to open her eyes, but something wet dripped into them. She groaned and fire coursed through her chest, making it hard to breathe.

What happened?

Was she ill? Did she have the flu?

The pressure on her chest eased off a bit, and she raised her head, blinking back the wetness. She tried to wipe away the… sweat? A knife-sharp ache rippled through the fingers of her right hand. She glanced down, but she couldn’t see a thing. She tried to flex her hand and almost passed out. At least two fingers were broken.

She moaned. Where am I?

It took a few minutes before reality hit her.

She was in the car. The faint light in front came from lights on the half-obscured dashboard, which she could now make out. Still, it wasn’t bright enough to take a full inventory of the damage. She reached for the interior light and turned it on. Her eyes skimmed across the dashboard and windshield. Both were intact.

She gasped. I was in an accident.

Then it hit her. She hadn’t been alone.

“Colton?” she cried out. “Ella?”

There was no reply. Had they been thrown out of the car?

Oh God…

“Colton! Answer me!”