Kansas City's Bravest

The twin beams of the flashlights mounted on her helmet shimmered in the distortion of overheated air that rose and filled the old building. She quickly eliminated the old freight elevator as a means of transportation to the upper levels. A zigzagging series of ramps and stairways that led up to various loading and storage platforms would lead her back into the heart of the smoke.

That left the wrought-iron ladder that had been mounted directly into the brick facade. She reached for the rung above her head and gave it a solid tug. Dust and mortar bits snowed down on her helmet. When the downpour stopped, she pulled herself up onto the first rung and felt the give of anchor bolts popping out of the wall above her head. She ducked and held her breath. But the ladder settled and clung fast to its shaky mounts, supporting her weight. For once her trim build would work to her advantage. “I’m climbing.”

Hand over hand, foot over foot, she ascended the ladder. Though she was only a slender five-foot-five, she trained hard to maintain peak physical conditioning. What she lacked in strength, she made up for in speed and agility. As long as the fire cooperated and stayed below, she’d have no problem locating the victim and clearing the building with time to spare.

Meghan reached the second floor and swung her legs over onto the platform that ran the length of the dockside wall. Ages ago this building had been used as a storage and distribution facility for large bales of cotton to be shipped on the river. A giant iron hook and rigging attached to a support beam was still in place beside a boarded-up opening.

These days, though, the warehouse was nothing more than a hangout for teens with too much time on their hands and not enough direction in their lives. Or it served as a makeshift shelter for homeless vagrants looking to escape the dog days of August’s summer heat when the local shelters were full.

During some of the blackest moments of her life, Meghan had been a teen in trouble and a homeless runaway. She knew that whoever had come up here to escape the fire was scared to begin with. “I’m here to help,” she shouted, taking note of the smoke creeping into the open corridor below her. “Where are you?”

A plaintive cry answered and she drifted closer to the sound.

At the end of the platform was a boarded-up office. The door behind the crossed one-by-fours was closed. The window beside the door was boarded over. How could someone have gotten in?

She already had a suspicious feeling when she knocked.

The whine became a sharp, piercing bark.

“Oh, no.”

The Kansas City Fire Department made every reasonable effort to save pets and livestock involved in a fire. But extreme means of rescue were reserved for people, not strays.

“John? It’s a dog.” She reported her location and situation. “I’m here. I might as well get him out.”

She knew her partner wouldn’t appreciate endangering herself on behalf of a stray. But he was an innocent victim of this blaze and she didn’t intend to abandon him yet.

“Move it, Meghan. We’ve got fire on the main floor. We’ll lay down water at your end to try to suppress it.” He, too, knew it was too late to argue. “I’ll notify Animal Rescue.”

“You just lucked out, furball.” She spoke through the door to the creature inside, hoping to calm him. “The cavalry’s here.”

Meghan made a quick scan of her escape route and noted the accuracy of John’s report. The floorboards at the base of the ladder were burning now. And while brick didn’t burn, it could become too hot to touch. And the metal itself would conduct heat and soften, making it impossible for the ladder to sustain its own weight, much less hers and a dog’s. She needed to act fast.

“How’d you get in there, boy?” The answering cry from the other side cut straight through to Meghan’s heart.

She squatted and reached beneath the bottom board. But the door had latched and couldn’t be pushed open. “You closed it yourself after you crawled in, didn’t you?” The dog called to her again. “I’ll get you out. Don’t worry.”

Meghan reached behind her and lifted her ax from its shoulder carrier. She wedged the head between the door frame and the middle board and pulled back, using her own body weight as leverage to pry the board loose, then toss it aside.

She removed her insulated glove to check to make sure the door and knob were cool before she reached inside to open it.

A blur of tan and black shot out between her legs. “Whoa.”

Meghan danced to one side as what looked like a pintsize German shepherd dashed toward the ramp he’d undoubtedly followed to get up here in the first place. “Hey, come back. Here, boy.” She whistled. But the dog ignored her. Meghan shook her head. “There’s gratitude for you.”

It was time she made a hasty exit herself. She put on her glove and radioed in. “The pooch is on the loose, John. Let me know if he shows up outside. I don’t want him to get caught in traffic after going through all this.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

“I’m on my way down.”

“Negative.” John’s order halted her from stepping onto the ladder. She shook it, testing its reliability. More mortar disintegrated and blew out in puffs of dust that vanished into the smoke clouds being pushed through the corridor ahead of the hoses. “Visibility is zero from our end. I can’t tell if the floor’s stable.”

While she watched her escape route being gobbled up by the smoke, a sudden movement in the corridor below caught her eye.

“Damn dog.”

Had she risked her life for nothing?

Her stomach clenched into a knot as she fought to control the instinctive response that boosted her pulse into overdrive. Meghan blinked and squinted through the haze. Something dark, darker than the smoke itself, darted back across the opening. “Did you see…?”

It was gone.

It had been little more than an after-image imprinted on her retinas. Had the pooch made it down the stairs that quickly? Though it seemed to have more mass to it than the dog she’d seen, the black shape hadn’t been bulky enough to be a firefighter in full gear. And it had moved so quickly.

But then, the heated air could play tricks on a person’s vision and depth perception. Maybe it had been a comrade-at-arms.

She spoke into her microphone. “Is the corridor clear?”

“Every man’s accounted for,” John replied. “Is there a problem?”

“I thought I saw someone below me.” It had to be the dog. She hoped he found a safe way out. “Never mind. It’s gone.”

“You should be, too.”

The memory of flames shooting up through the floorboards was impetus enough to send her toward the ramp. If the dog had gotten down that way, so could she. Maybe she could still find him down below and rescue him, after all. “I’ve got an alternate route.”

She picked up her ax and trotted toward the billowing rise of smoke at the far end of the platform. She checked her gauge and breathed deeply, verifying her oxygen intake before plunging in.

Going in blind was risky. Though she trailed her hand along the wall to find her path, any misstep could send her flying over the edge of the platform or plummeting through a hole or…

The dog charged out of the smoke, plowing into her shin and knocking her back a step. “Whoa! How’d you do that?”

A loud crack thundered in her ears and the whole floor tipped.

“Meghan!”

She ignored John’s call and braced her back against the wall to reverse course, zeroing in on the sound of the dog’s whine.

What the hell was going on here?

“The secondary escape route’s collapsing.” She panted the words into her mike and started to pray.

The dog charged her legs again, then circled her feet. He barked as he followed his nose toward clear air. Meghan honed in on the sound as if it was an outstretched hand.

Three steps later she was clear.

She scooped up the dog. “Good boy. I don’t know what miracle you just pulled, but you saved us both.” As she petted the dog, trying to calm its fears and her own, a few things became obvious. She wasn’t the only female fighting for her life in this building. “Sorry. Good girl. Let’s get out of here. John?”