“The water rig is going to be positioned at the rear of the building to help control the spread. We are going in to complete the evac of the rest of the units,” he says. “Keep your eyes open and your ears to the ground, gang. Everyone comes back safe,” he adds as the truck pulls to a stop behind the blocked-off road.
As soon as the truck is stopped, we all pile out and begin to double check our equipment. “Ready,” I say into my mouth piece as I start to receive air from the tank at my back. “Ready,” follows from the other five members of my team.
“We have four floors, five units to each floor. The fire is believed to have started in 302. It is confirmed to 303 and 402 above. Smith and Jaskula take the first floor. Peterson and Diaz are on the second floor. Stevens, you’re with me on the third. First unit to clear their floor takes four,” Chief Hernandez states.
“10-4,” we all reply as we start to make our way into the burning building.
The Chief and I follow Peterson and Diaz up the stairwell. While they split off at the entrance of the second floor, Chief and I head up another flight. When we get to the doorway, I take a quick peek through the small window in the door. I see no flames and no people through the smoke. I hold up my hand and make a closed fist, signaling that I don’t see anything. I proceed to slowly open the door and am met with nothing but smoke.
We start with the closest unit, 301. The door is unlocked when I test the knob. We both stand to the side of the doorway, prepared for the blast, as I open the door. Nothing.
Chief and I make quick work of checking the apartment. It’s clear that the occupants made it outside. We exit the apartment and head towards the one across the hall, 302. This door was left open so we quickly slip inside and give the apartment a quick by thorough check for occupants. Again, nothing.
Knowing that the blaze has spread to 303, we head there next. The unit’s door is also open so after checking the doorway, we slip inside. The apartment is filled with smoke. Flames dance along the ceiling in the kitchen. Chief Hernandez checks the kitchen quickly while I head back to check the bedrooms. This apartment is larger than the first two we checked. The master bedroom is cleared quickly so I move onto the smaller room, which is clearly a child’s room. I call out and announce my presence before I check under the bed and in the closet. Nothing. After a check of the bathroom and the living room, Chief and I exit the apartment.
We make quick work of the remaining two apartments on the floor. Peterson and Diaz have finished their sweep of the second floor so they make their way up to the fourth floor. Smith and Jaskula finish the first floor just as quickly so they proceed upward to the fourth floor to assist on the search. Chief and I make our way outside as we wait for the other two teams to complete their search. Three water tankers proceed to dump water through the gaping holes in the side of the building onto the third and fourth floors.
I watch as the remaining four members of my team hurry out of the front of the building towards the truck. Masks are removed and air is shut off as they all try to catch their breaths. There is no greater rush.
“Chief, you copy?” I hear from the radio attached to Hernandez’s shoulder.
“Copy,” he replies.
“Woman is claiming her son didn’t make it out. Unit 303,” I hear come from the radio. I am grabbing my mask and slipping it on before I even have time to process. I am already starting towards the front of the building when I hear the rest of the report through my helmet. “Subject is a four year old boy and was last seen in the small bedroom in bed,” he reports. I run up the front steps of the building, Smith hot on my heels.
“I checked that room and didn’t see anyone,” I report into the radio in my helmet as we start to sprint up the stairs.
“We’ll find him,” Smith says over my shoulder.
We finally get to the doorway of the third floor. The halls are now filled with thick, rolling smoke and the heat coming from the ceiling and the third apartment - the apartment we are heading into - is stifling. We reach the doorway and I check the knob. The paint around the door is bubbling. Smith and I take our positions along the wall and I push open the door. Inside, the unit is blazing. The kitchen to the left is completely engulfed even though the units outside are pumping water directly through the wall and into the small room. The couch along the kitchen wall is ablaze with hot flames as we rush around it and towards the small bedroom in the corner.
There are no flames here, only smoke. Smith and I get to work at rechecking the room. I check under the bed while Smith tears apart the closet. No sign of the four-year-old boy.