As she inspects the power unit, the sharp, chemical tang of hydraulic fluid hits her. She pinches the hoses, checking for the slight give of a sound connection.
Reaching down to the next compartment, she opens it, checking that the spreaders are positioned for quick grabbing and ready for the next shift. She closes the compartment doors, moving to the next set of compartments. Opening the first, she frowns at a rattle and looks in to find an axe and Halligan loose. She grabs them and marries the tools with a satisfying click before sliding them back into the brackets. She pulls the marriage strap tight.
The vibration of the rolling doors travels up her arm as she finishes the bay. The station begins to wake up. Tucker, the oncoming lieutenant, walks in. He smells like laundry detergent and fresh coffee.
"Rig's tight, Lieutenant. The ventilation saw was acting up at 2:00 AM, but I cleared the carbon. She's screaming now."
Tucker nods. He doesn't just take her word for it. He starts his own morning checks. Even pulling out the saw to run it before nodding to Alex. "Get out of here, Alex. She looks good."
Alex heads for the lockers. She peels off her station shirt. It is damp with salt and grime. She doesn't put her bunker gear in the locker. She hangs it on the rack to let the liners dry out after the warehouse fire. A smile spreads across her face as she pulls out her equestrian boots. They were a splurge. The leather is scuffed from use. The soles are embedded with magnets, designed to snap into place against her stirrups for a rock-solid grip."
On her way out, she hears a recruit getting ribbed about a botched entry.
"Yeah, keep laughing. I remember you needing three swings on a glass screen door." The group erupts in "Oohs" and laughter. The probie looks at her with relief. Alex rolls her eyes.
"Yeah, kid, don't get excited. Hit the door on the latch next time."
In response, the young man blushes slightly, which leads to another round of jeers from the other veterans.
She jumps into her Gladiator. The Jeep is a skeleton of a vehicle. She tosses her bag through the open side onto the back seat. The engine starts with a roar. She pulls out of the lot and waves to the guys before she heads for the highway. The city fades behind her. She props her foot up in the empty space where the door should be. The rush of air helps the tension of the shift leave her body.
She pulls onto the gravel road. The dusty smell of the barn wafts into the cab. She stops next to the fence. She looks in the mirror. She meets her own golden eyes for a moment before hopping out.
Moxie gallops across the paddock. Her blue-gray coat ripples with muscle. She slides to a stop and sprays mud all over. Alex just laughs as she snorts. Alex reaches out her hand, resting it on the neck of her mare.
"Hey, Mox. You ready for some riding time?" Moxie towers over her, but the mare’s greeting is all affection as she nuzzles Alex’s arm. A flehmen response curls the horse's lip; she’s catching the lingering scent of smoke and sweat on Alex’s skin.
"Yeah, yeah. I showered. Also seriously, Mox? I washed you right before my last shift, and you’re covered. Girl, I swear you do this on purpose."
The horse nuzzles her arm. They walk toward the barn together. Alex grabs the halter. Alex looks up at Moxie, meeting the horse’s golden eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Let's go get saddled up."
The smell of expensive leather and lavender cuts through the barn air. Alex takes a deep, calming breath as Mox shakes her head, her ears pinned back. Alex rounds the corner and finds the exact scene she was somehow expecting.
Gabbie and her tack box, an explosion of pink, littering the ground. The girl is actively setting up a tripod and light while her horse anxiously paws the ground. Alex has to force herself to take another deep breath as she stares at the oblivious girl with her horse, who are blocking the aisle and using the only cross-tie spot.
Gabbie looks over at the heavy hoof beats of Mox coming into the barn and sneers. "Hey, Alex. He's in a mood today. Do you mind waiting a few minutes to bring in that massive beast? We’re doing some desensitization today. It might be hard for you to move around the cones."
Alex clenches her jaw. "Oh, that’s fine. You obviously need the training time. I just wanted to get tacked up. Could you move some of this so we can get to a stall?"
Gabbie looks at her with disgust. "I just raked the footing for the right framing. Just wait a few."
Alex looks at the chestnut gelding. The whites of his eyes are visible, his ears pinned back as he tries to sit back. Gabbie's ring light illuminating him, it's cord stretched across the aisle.
Behind her, Moxie stands like an immovable mountain. The mare’s rhythmic breathing a warm weight against Alex's back. Part of her doesn’t want to deal with the drama and starts to turn to go tack up outside.
She hears Gabbie talking to her phone screen.
"Sorry, guys, some people just lack the refinement and training to treat the barn with respect. They show up with these massive brutes."
Alex feels her back stiffen. She ties Moxie to an outside hitch instead. She brings her supplies out into the sun.
"Mox, you want to go get refined today?"
She brushes the mare down. The rhythmic motion is soothing. Moxie lifts each hoof when prompted to let her pick the hooves clean. Alex ends up spending a few minutes picking a rock that got wedged between the shoe and hoof. She smiles in victory when it finally pops loose.
Patting Moxie on the shoulder, she puts her brushes back before putting on the saddle blanket and getting her worn endurance saddle, fitting perfectly on Moxie’s back.
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The girth tightens easily. Moxie nickers softly, stomping her excitement to go ride. Alex pats her side, checking the stirrups before getting her reins affixed to the bridle.
She leads Moxie into the arena. Pink cones are scattered everywhere. She pulls the gate closed. She uses the mounting block. Her boots clip into the stirrups immediately. The seat is secure.
Alex starts a warm-up. Her strides kick up dust. Gabbie is still juggling camera equipment. Her mother holds the reins. The gate is wide open. Alex takes a breath. She nudges Moxie into a trot. The thud of hooves is steady. They move past the cones. Moxie ignores them. Gabbie's horse panics.
"Alex, can you stop spooking him?"
"Maybe you should work on handling your horse. We are just working on some refinement. Also, close the gate. When Valentino is done with whatever you're doing, you won't want him having a straight shot to the highway."
Gabbie’s mom sputters. "We’ve been at this barn for three years, Alex. We know how to manage a gate."
"Then manage it."
Alex squeezes her legs. Moxie transitions into a canter. The ground hums with the thunder of the mare. They do three perfect loops. When they halt, Moxie stands square and proud. Behind them, Valentino is still jigging. The gate is still unlatched.
Alex dismounts. She lands softly in the sand. She unbuckles the gate and leads Moxie through. It clicks shut with a final clack.
"Good work, Mox. Let's go hacking on the trail."
The tripod falls over behind them. Gabbie shrieks. Alex doesn't look back. She walks toward the woods. She signals Moxie. The mare lifts a front hoof. Alex uses it as a step to spring back into the saddle. She points the horse toward the trail knowing the exact clearing they both like.
The woods are alive with life; the green foliage and vibrant undergrowth are alive with the sound of bird song and the skittering of small animals.
Moxie's hooves fall heavily on the trail, each thump satisfying and solid.
"Last night we had a pretty big fire, Mox. Probie struggled with the door. It cost us a few seconds."
She pats the horse's neck.
"I hate finding bodies. It's one more person we could have maybe saved if we were faster. We started CPR, but they were gone by the time the medics took over."
She lets out a deep sigh. She lets the night wash away.
"Honestly, Mox, I should have you come show the probie how to kick down a door."
They reach the clearing. She hops down and sits on a rock. She lets Moxie graze.
"Sometimes I want to just go run away with you. But I think I’d miss going into fires."
She lies in the grass. She listens to the world. She feels the hot breath of the horse near her ear. She reaches up to scratch Moxie’s head. After a while, she stands up. She dusts herself off.
"Shall we head back?"
Moxie bobs her head. She gives Alex a hoof up again. They head down the trail. When they reach the barn, Gabbie is gone. Alex washes Moxie down with warm water. She helps the horse stretch. She gives her treats. She watches Moxie join the herd in the pasture. Alex heads back to her Jeep. She drives home.
Leading Moxie back over to turn her out with the other horses and she watches her horse join the herd for a few minutes before she fights back a yawn.
"'Time to go home Alex," she says to herself motivating her heavy steps back to her jeep and toward home.
Alex tosses her keys into a wooden tray by the door. Her bags hit the floor with a dull thud. Every step toward the bathroom feels like she is wearing lead weights. She loves the barn and the engine house, but the thought of hot water and a meal is the only thing keeping her upright.
She stays under the spray until the steam fills the room. She scrubs at her knuckles to get the last of the soot out from under her nails. The water running down the drain is a murky gray. She climbs out and pulls on a worn t-shirt and loose pants. She orders food through an app. Her phone screen feels too bright in the dim living room.
She collapses onto the couch. Her jaw aches from a deep yawn. She stares at the wall in a daze until the delivery driver knocks. She eats quickly. Her body just wants the calories to replace what she burned on the fire ground and in the saddle.
She pulls up her grocery list. She needs to restock on protein and find some athletic tape for her sword hilt. Tomorrow is HEMA class. She stares at the digital list for ten minutes. The words start to blur. She gives up and retreats to the bedroom. She falls onto the mattress.
"Finally," she whispers into the pillow.
Sleep pulls her under instantly. It is heavy and dark.
A high pitched tone wakes her from a dead sleep. It hasn't even fully registered yet and she is on her feet looking over her phone screen.
The notification is from the station.
GENERAL RECALL. ALL HANDS. LEVEL 5 INCIDENT. PORT DISTRICT.
Her heart hammers as she quckly pulls on her duty pants and a fresh shirt. Her muscles scream from the last shift and ride with Moxie but she ignores them.
She grabs her bag and keys running for her Jeep.
The sky is a dark orange smoke columns blocking out the sunrise. She drives fast through the empty streets arriving at the station it's a mad house.
She quickly finds her backup bunk gear and her tool set from her locker. She is dressed in minutes and back out to get orders.
Tucker is there shouting orders he points to her. "I need a point man on the irons. You're going to the port, Alex. The warehouse complex is going. They need relief crews for interior search. Move."
Alex scrambles into the cab of the reserve rig; a vibrating, diesel-belching dinosaur that should have been decommissioned a decade ago. They weave through the city streets until the Port District opens up before them a chaotic tapestry of flashing strobes, buckling steel, and towering walls of flame.
Alex grabs her irons. She feels the familiar weight of the Halligan and the axe. She clicks her regulator into her mask. The hiss of bottled air fills her ears. The air brakes hiss as the rig jerks to a stop. Alex doesn't wait for the dust to settle. She gives Jim’s shoulder a heavy, two-beat thud the: 'I’m here, stay on me' signal as they move toward the structure.
"Ladder 51-Reserve. Entering through Side Alpha for primary search," Alex calls over the radio.
Alex leads the way. The heat inside the warehouse is a physical wall that pushes against her. The visibility is zero thick swirling peanut butter black smoke. She stays low. Her gloved hand follows the wall. She uses the Halligan to sweep the floor in front of her.
They move deeper into the structure. The thermal imaging camera shows a world of white and gray heat. The floor is covered in debris.
The thermal imaging camera shows a world of white and gray heat. Debris litters the floor, hiding pitfalls. A sudden groan of shifting steel echoes through the bay; the only warning before the ceiling gives way. A massive section of the roof collapses in a cascade of sparks and burning timber.
Alex dives. A heavy beam slams into the floor behind her, the impact rattling her teeth and severing her from the crew.
Jim's voice crackles, frantic, over the radio. "Command, Ladder 51-Reserve! Mayday! We have a collapse on Side Alpha, floor two! We have a member cut off!"
Alex struggles, her air tank snagged on a twisted piece of rebar. She’s pinned. The heat is no longer a wall. It’s a living thing, pressing in. She fumbles for her wire cutters, twisting her body until the metal snaps and she lurches free.
She keys her mic, her voice steady despite the adrenaline. "L-51 Reserve, Alex. I’m clear of the debris. Moving deeper to find an alternate egress."
The smoke is dense, but the space ahead constricts into a narrow hallway. She pushes forward, checking the TIC for heat signatures.
Ahead, the camera flashes a cold spot; a silhouette that shouldn't be there. "I have movement. Going to check for civilians."
She moves forward feeling a body she stops looking over the stone floor and man who looks dressed for a renaissance fair collapsed on it. Her training takes over. "Hey! I've got you!" she yells over the roar of the fire. She rolls him onto his side, hooking her arms under his pits to begin a life-saver's drag."
A patch of smoke ahead swirls violently, almost like a drain. She heads for it, desperate for an exit.
Suddenly, her HUD flickers. A translucent blue screen overlays her vision.
Greetings, Adventurer. Input Name:
"WHAT THE FUCK!" she screams into her mask. "Who is messing with my HUD?!" She swipes at her visor, but the text remains. She ignores the HUD, jaw set, and keeps dragging the man toward the swirling light.