I beat all the fire trucks.
A lot of people are on the street watching, both casual spectators and those who have managed to get out already and so I duck into the alleyway. The fire is really going. It must have started on a low floor because the bottom half is engulfed in flames, and swiftly swallowing the rest. Unfortunately, as a result, the fire escapes look rather useless. I scale the building next door and once on the roof I’m able to easily jump to the roof of the building on fire. The fire door is locked from this side, but I’m able to wrench it open. I’m not sure why anyone trying to get out isn’t already up here as this part of the stairwell looks clear and the buildings are close enough that the jump between the two is easy enough, superhero or not. There’s only maybe two high floors not covered in flames. If there was anyone below floor four they’re beyond my help now. I try to concentrate on the screaming, and beneath that the heavy breathing and panic, to find survivors in the chaos. When I break down the first door on the fourth floor I see why they’re not on the roof. They’re just children. Two of them. Boys, maybe five and six years old, faces slick with tears, sitting frozen in fear on their couch with teddy bears in their hands as if waiting for a superhero to rescue them. They both recoil at the sight of me, probably breaking down the door was not my wisest move, especially since the hallway looks a bit like hell - literally. They both erupt into glass- shattering wails, and I scoop them up, wishing I didn’t have super hearing. One of them pounds on me with his little fists but the other one just passes out. I bound up the two flights to the roof and burst out the door. I jump them across one roof and then another.
“Stay here okay? I’ll be back.” I say to the conscious one. He nods and pats his brother’s hair. I bound back across the buildings and back down to the fourth floor. The flames are coming even faster now, and I break down the door. I don’t have the kind of time I’d like to explore the apartment. If I’m going to have a chance with anyone on the fifth floor I have to be fast. It seems empty and so I move on. The first apartment on the fifth floor is also empty. But in the apartment across the hall I find a huge football player of a man passed out cold from what looks like two six packs and a fifth of Jack. I check the rest of the apartment and once I’m sure it’s empty I go back into the bedroom and heft the linebacker across my shoulders. I’m on the roof and making for the building next door and we’d be golden, except the dude wakes up as I’m making a run for the jump to the next roof. Just as my feet leave the edge he thrashes hard like a fish caught on a line.
We fall.
In tandem, like two rocks tied together, and all I can see in my mind is us both hitting the ground and him never getting up again. I reach out instinctively with my hand as we fall and manage to snag the edge of the roof. At the same time I reach blindly for him and catch him by the waist of his jeans, the unexpected weight pulls my arm out of joint and I cry out. He does too, clearly suffering despite the save. Hopefully he’ll forgive me the temporary pain. He’s still confused and thrashing though, and now in pain, and I don’t have much choice but to launch him over my head and onto the roof above us. He hits with a thud and I wince, hoping his new injuries are less than what I’m saving him from. I scramble up the side of the building and find him writhing on the roof, hands in his crotch, moaning. I slam my shoulder against the ground and jam it back into joint with a yelp. I pull the linebacker to his feet and we stumble toward the next building. At the gap he stops hard and pulls back, flailing his arms madly, chattering something incoherent about heights. I look around, hoping nobody is watching, well, nobody except the boys, which can’t really be helped, and clock him as gently as possible across his square jaw, catching him as he goes down. The two boys watch me with eyes wide and mouths open. The good news is they seem more shocked than scared now. I lift the gentle giant over my shoulders again and make the small jump to the roof. The boys continue to stare.
“C’mon boys,” I say lightly. “Let’s get off this roof.” I gesture to the back of the building. They nod their heads in amazement and we make our way down the fire escape very slowly, pausing roughly ever ninety seconds to give the one named Richie time to think about his next steps. Once safely on the ground, I take them around the corner to where the fire engines now are, parked and wailing in the street. People outside the building are crying and wringing their hands, and news vans are arriving. I can’t chance being seen. Richie sees his mother and makes a run for it. Sam is about to join him but I grab his little hand. “Sam, I have to go, but I’m going to put this man down right here and I need you to tell one of the firemen to come help him, okay?” I say. Sam nods solemnly.