the face in the glass - pt.2

[wytchcroft]

MEMORY PACK – PLEASE READ INSTRUCTIONS CAREFULLY:

Attach pack to skull. (fig 1.1) Crank the plunger and the trigger. (fig1.2)
Insert needle into the back of the cranium. (fig 1.3)
Depress plunger. (fig 2)
After 15 seconds release trigger. (fig 3)
Once the Memory Pack is empty remove needle and detach pack from skull. (fig 4)



“’Ere Malcolm, I can’t see!”

In the bloody darkness that was stating the obvious – but I couldn’t blame Bert for that. We were slapping at each other in the pitch fumbling for a way forward and fighting the urge to rip the glass open on our helmets in some mad attempt to see – to see through the smoke and the unlit house. In the light of the fire, back out on the street it had been easy to forget that it was night. And that the smoke would blind yer anyhow.

I was stamping my feet to feel the floor through the metal of my boots. It was like being under the sea and the sweat collecting in the visor and pouring down yer face made you feel like the sea was getting in. And it was hot. Hot like I aint got the words for – hot like a hundred hells or more, hot like a fever, like brain fever, hot.
I was tugging frantic at the pipe on the back of my head – more air your bastards more air! And I must’ve been yelling something too coz all of a sudden there’s the chief shouting in my ear yelling, “Pipe down you berk, for Christ’s sake! And keep moving!”

We had to find a safe spot to unload the hose, but it was weighing us down, buckled as we were by an arm each to it, in case the runners caught fire or melted.

We were bloody melting – but if you timed it wrong then the force of the hose threw you backwards and you could wind up going through some wreck of a wall into pure flame and not get up again. Ever.
I knew the drill even if my body was animal crackers some other part of me was keeping a clear head. “That’s better;” said the chief, his voice crackling through the relay, “just keep going now.”

I wanted to know how Bert was doing but with the chief on the blower there was no way to hear any body else at the same time. Maybe he was calmer now – but the way the hose was tugging and by the twisting of our coat tethers, it felt like he’d gone plum off his rocker. Bert though – it didn’t make no sense, he was well practised at this – he even had a medal, reliable service, he was steady, he had a wife, struth even the chief respected him, so what the hell was he playing at?

Two things happened at once – and all of a sudden.
No warning, we just stepped out from dark to light, like a clearing in a forest or like we’d waded up from the sea. It was bright so it hurt but only for a moment, what with the faceplate painted over with ash and charcoal didn’t take as long as yer might think to adjust our eyes.

Right well that was one thing – the other was that the tethers went slack and the hose would’ve dropped, with me still strapped to it, if it weren’t still on the runners thank God. Quite how that rickety frame of wire and wheels didn’t burn up in a flash I’ll never know but believe me I was glad about it. The slackness from Bert’s side was worse than the wild yanking from before. “Chief, Chief - Bert’s passed out!” I heard myself yell.
“Is he a gonner?” the Chief could be a heartless git sometimes. The crackling was worse, and it made the chief sound very far away.

“I dunno Boss! I dunno..” I made myself take a breath, it sounded harsh in the helmet but it felt precious and it calmed me down. “Now aint the time Malcolm,” the chief asserted and I knew he was right. If I didn’t get the hose but quick then I’d be as useless and as probably dead as Bert.

I forced myself round to face the glow of fire looking for the colour that would show me the spot to aim for – no use going for a fire that can take all the water you throw, you need to contain the beast – give it room but make the bloody flames go where YOU want ‘em to. “You ready?” asked the chief.
“Let’s ‘ave it!” I roared back at the top of my lungs.

WHAM! The hose kicked up like a dog woke sudden and angry. Despite my strongest attempts at keeping my feet the lack of balance from Berts side made the hose swing right and sharply so, the trolley with the runners sliding at speed into my legs. I didn’t go down, not fully, like I said that’s hard to do in a fireman’s get up, but it made me sag at my arm struck me up hard on the side of the head. For a moment I was completely lost then I grabbed with my free hand for the trolley – and held on for dear life.

With all the effort I could muster I crawled up and onto the thing desperately keeping my left arm with the hose attached, underneath me. There was water spraying out in great bursts still roughly in the direction I’d wanted it to. The smoke was turning to steam. I must’ve got real lucky and hit a backdoor for the fire – the real heat was going on someplace else – what I could do here was make sure the demon flame could not double back.
Well I could try at least.

I was out of danger for a minute – that was something.

And now I could hear groaning through the thing in my ear – Bert was alive!

 

Comments

[browncoat2x2]

I like this :o)
I particularly enjoyed your descriptions of how enclosed the suite was, how hot, confining, heavy; very visual.
That sounds like a massive hose...
Cool stuff :o)

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

thanks:):)

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

http://www.london-fire.gov.uk/440575CD091B4CCFA97AFA06C9FEEC22_BreathingApparatusSmokeHelmetAndBellowsc1900.asp

[stoshagownozad.livejournal.com]

feel myself really like in the middle of the fire

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I think!:)
I've posted the last chapter now - i meant to post it last night but I fell asleep!!!

[stoshagownozad.livejournal.com]

my connection is very poor on holidays - everybody are in the Net :)))
so going slowly (and fill chilly already!)

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

here is a warm sun for you:):):)

[stoshagownozad.livejournal.com]

shiny sunny!

[reginaclarejane.livejournal.com]

Oh my goodness- right in the thick of things now...
I have the deepest respect for firefighters.

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

um, (firefighters aside) this might not be your kind of thing, uh - oh...