Page 66 of Igniting Her

Cassie waited until both women crossed the drive. “Mirador Command to all companies. PAR.”

The reports came in by crew. Engine 12: four accounted for. Rescue 12: two. Engine 7. Engine 9. Truck 6. The canyon group below. Every firefighter outside, every name where command expected it.

Ellie watched Cassie mark the final company on the tablet. Only then did Cassie’s shoulders lower by a fraction. The movement was so small nobody else would have called it relief. Ellie had slept inside those arms. She knew exactly what had been held there.

The open garage across the street gave Cassie shelter from the wind and a clear view of the Alpha side. She moved the accountability board and command tablet there while the companies settled behind their collapse zones. The garage became the command post without ceremony.

“All companies maintain collapse zones,” Cassie said. “No interior operations. Engine 12, darken the upper eaves from Alpha. Delta group, hold that exposure. Truck 6, prepare the ladder pipe when you have position.”

Ellie took the nozzle at the Alpha-Delta corner. Jamie braced the hose behind her. Water struck the upper wall and blew sideways in the gusts, breaking into spray that came back against their facepieces. The roofline had begun to sag over the center of the house. Flames punched through cedar shingles near the ridge and flattened toward the ocean.

The gray-haired homeowner was still shouting about his dog. A sheriff’s deputy held him behind the line. Phones rose above the crowd whenever the fire brightened.

Ellie swept the stream beneath the eaves.

The wind dropped for one rare second. Radio traffic had just cleared, and through a broken upper Delta window a sound slipped down the exterior wall.

“Mom!”

High. Small. Above the fire floor.

Ellie’s body knew before her mind finished placing it. Upper level, Delta side, somewhere beyond the narrow exterior balcony. She turned her helmet toward the sound.

“Command from Ridge. Possible victim voice, upper floor Alpha-Delta corner.”

The radio paused. Cassie answered. “Ridge, repeat.”

“I hear a child calling from the upper floor. Delta-side room.”

Across the drive, Cassie looked toward the homeowner cluster. Priya was already moving among them, counting faces again. The father shook his head hard enough to be seen through smoke.

“Ridge, Command. Primary search is clear. Homeowner confirms all five residents accounted for. Hold your position.”

Ellie kept the nozzle on the eaves. “Copy.”

The word came out automatically. Jamie’s hand remained firm on the hose behind her.

Fire broke through the center of the roof. Part of the canyon-side deck gave way, taking a glass railing and two burning chairs into the dark below. The collapse shuddered through the structure. Cassie ordered Truck 6 farther back and expanded the exclusion zone.

No one could go inside that house.

The child cried out again.

This time the voice made a word Ellie could not misunderstand.

“Please.”

Jamie heard it. Her helmet snapped toward the upper balcony. “Jesus.”

Ellie handed her the nozzle.

Jamie caught it from reflex. “Ridge.”

Ellie stepped over the hose.

“Ridge, hold your position,” Cassie said in her ear.

Ellie looked at the house. The exterior service stairs climbed along the Delta wall from the driveway to the upper balcony, open to the air but exposed to fire rolling from the level below. Stone supported the lower flight. The upper landing had begun to burn along one edge. The room where she had heard the voice sat less than thirty feet from the top.