There was hardly any semblance of a trailer left when they arrived at the scene and saw the fiery inferno. Devilish flames churned and swirled in a hot ball above the structure, eating up whatever was inside of it. Windows had already blown out and shards of half melted glass were everywhere. If there was anyone inside when the fire started, they didn’t stand a chance now.
Brock’s crew of eight was first on the scene. Their two red trucks pulled up at opposite ends of the fire. Brock did a brief assessment, then got his team to work, instructing them where to set up the hoses and areas to focus on first. They also needed to set up a perimeter. Onlookers were way too close to the structure. He shouted to them, directing the group back as far as to the end of the street, so his men could work without putting anyone else at risk. When he gave the signal to his crew, the two hoses were turned on. Toby and Kyle let the water rip, sending high arcs of water on the structure. It was too late to save this trailer, so their priority was now to manage the flames and control the spread to adjacent homes.
Sirens sounded in the distance, signaling that medics and police were on their way, although they were so far off it would be a while before they got to the site.
Brock set his jaw and focused on the task at hand. The fire began to subside, but it would be a while before it gave up and died down. By then, the ambulance and police were on site. Slowly, the flame shrank away under the vigilant attention of the hoses, and at one side of the trailer, the scorched wreckage became visible behind the dark smoke.
Brock gave the signal for Daniel and Henry to manage Toby’s hose while he and Toby moved closer to inspect the end of the trailer where the fire was out. Brock bent down to look closer at something, and every hair on his body pricked up. He needed no words to confirm what they had just found.
“Get a medic over here!” Brock shouted, looking more closely. “We need two back boards!”
He pulled off his helmet and looked over at Toby, who had just made out what they had seen. Toby’s face was pale and he looked about ready to drop to his knees.
“Two bodies,” Brock announced, still staring down at the charred remains. “Look at their size. They don't look very old. Christ, they can’t be more than fourteen or fifteen.”
“Any signs of life?”
“Not that I can see.”
Two paramedics ran over just then. It was Martins, the lead medic who worked the same schedule as A-shift, and his partner, Pittman. One carried their supply bag and one stretcher with equipment, and the other had two back boards.
“We’ll take a look,” said Martins. “Give us some space.”
“It’s two of them.”
“I’ll call in for another truck.” Pittman got on his radio and called into the dispatcher to request another team. Their vehicles were only equipped to carry one patient at a time.
While they checked the bodies for any signs of life, Brock noticed Nash walking around them to look behind the trailer wreckage. Brock followed him. “Where are you going on your own, Wheeler?”
“I don’t know. I smell something.” Nash stopped short. “Here!” He pointed down at something. Brock hurried closer, and when he saw it, his chest clamped down like a vice. It was a medium sized dog, with burns along one side of its face and torso. The animal was alive, twitching and whining in pain.
Brock was so angry he was shaking. The scene spread out around him unbearable. Two kids were likely dead, and this little pooch was close to it. There was no extra help on scene to tend to the little creature. If another crew was on scene, the most they would do was give the animal water and wait for local animal control services to show up and put the animal down to spare it all this pain.
“No one’s letting this dog die,” Nash declared, scooping it up in his arms, as though he could read Brock’s mind.
He stepped away from the wreckage, heading into the woods instead of toward the street.
“Wheeler. Get back here.” Brock followed him.
He was pretty sure Nash wouldn’t listen. The man couldn’t stand to see animals suffer. There weren't a lot of trees between the lot and the nearby abandoned warehouse, but the small amount of coverage would do. Nash made a beeline for the densest part, weaving his way in and between shrubs, saplings and mature trees.
Brock followed. He was sure what Nash was up to now. He could only be sneaking away into the woods to do one thing, and it was not the time or place for that thing. Still, maybe they could help pooch.
“I'll keep watch,” he told Nash. “Keep yourself hidden so no one sees you…and don’t make a sound when you turn.”
Brock kept to the side of the woods, making as little noise as possible. He could only make out the top of Nash’s head when the man stopped and laid the dog down somewhere on the ground. Brock could smell the animal's charred flesh in the distance. Nash had to move fast. It was only minutes from death.