“Gus, make sure you have enough air in that tank.”
Augusto “Gus” Espinosa checked the tank for the fifth time as the fire raged in the building before them. “I’m fine.”
The squad leader stepped back as Gus stood. He looked at his three buddies, who would be going into that mess and getting people out of one room.
It was allegedly a meth lab gone haywire. Two people were in a room with barred windows – two kids, really – and the only way to get them out was through the doorway.
Jimmy got them into the building through the door with help from an axe. It was a large warehouse, with tables and jars, everything was on fire, and dark green smoke filled the air. The flashlight from his headlamp illuminated the path through the smoke. “Go left,” said Jimmy through the radio in his ear. They walked around burning tables and took a left, to see a wooden door on fire in front of them.
Jimmy yelled, “Stand back!” and started chopping at the door. Gus knew the yell didn’t carry, but hoped once the axe bit through the door, they’d get the hint.
He was second, and got inside. The two kids were terrified when the men came in. One was a girl, and she threw herself at him. He carried the little waif in his arms, and started back out into the fire. She buried her head into his shoulder, and held onto his neck tightly.
He took two steps before he heard the crack above, and he looked up just in time to see one of the rafters let go and part of the roof come down on top of him. He threw himself down, protecting the girl.
“Shit!” yelled Howie, and he started to pull the burning wood and metal off of him.
“She’s okay!” said Gus. However, he felt the heat, felt that something had torn, and knew he was getting burned. The girl had passed out. Howie and Jimmy got the stuff off him, and helped him up. Jimmy got the girl and Gus took off his mask, giving it to the girl.
Gus involuntarily took a breath and it was horrible, not just smoke, but some awful chemicals were underneath. He followed Jimmy closely, breathing shallowly, sharing the gas mask with the girl. He had an acrid taste in his mouth as they got the girl out of the building. Kevin had the boy, and they all cleared the building.
“You okay,” asked one of the paramedics. They got the girl onto a stretcher, while Gus nodded. He had a lump in the back of his throat, but didn’t think that was anything strange. He watched as the girl and the boy were taken away on the stretcher, given oxygen and put in the ambulance.
“You sure you’re okay? You came out without the mask,” said Jimmy.
“Yeah.”
“I think you should go get checked out. There was a lot of shit in there.”
Gus waved his hand. He swallowed, but the lump was still there. He went and sat on the bumper of the fire engine, getting his clothes off. The back had a huge rip in it, through that and his t-shirt. He felt blood on his back.
But it didn’t hurt. He turned to Howie and asked him to look at his back. “I don’t see anything,” he said.
Gus showed him the back of the jacket. Howie turned Gus around and looked. “I see a scar, and some blood, but…”
“But?”
“You’re not cut open.”
The water and some chemical foam got the fire out. Gus was shirtless in the firelight, because his t-shirt had been torn open and he was wondering if he should tell the squad leader. Instead, he was more worried about the lump in his throat.
He coughed. That didn’t dislodge it. Maybe he should go to the hospital.
But the firemen were starting to pack up, and the news reporters were starting to arrive. He decided to forgo the hospital and head back to the station.
At the station, one of the firemen who was on light duty had made a huge pot of chili. Gus wasn’t crazy about stews or chilis, having grown up with having that way too often. He got a bowl with some bread and sat out in the garage to eat.
Howie joined him. “The kids are going to be okay,” he said. “Two people died in the explosion.”
“Damn,” said Gus, eating the chili. It was hot on his tongue, and he did like it spicy, but when it hit the back of his throat, it was cool, not burning as it went down. He coughed again.
And spat up flame that caught on his hand. “Holy shit – ” Gus dropped the bowl with a clatter and patted his hand on his pants. The flame went out, but there was nothing wrong with his hand.
Howie looked at his uneaten chili and put it aside.
“It’s not that,” Gus said, seeing him do that. “I don’t know – it was something – ”
“Tell Lenny that you’re going to the hospital,” said Howie. “I’ll even bring you.”
“I can get there myself.”
At the hospital, Gus was in a johnny and in the bed when the doctor finally looked down his throat. “Oh,” was all he said, and sent him for an MRI. When that came back, two hours later, the doctor returned with a woman from PRIMUS.
“You have a new ability, it’s a mutation based on the chemicals that you probably breathed in,” the doctor said. “This is Gertie. She’s our liaison with PRIMUS, whenever we have people with new abilities come in.”
“Ability?”
“It seems that you can breathe fire.”
Gertie sat down and very calmly, very carefully, told him what he could possibly do, and what would happen. It was three a.m., and Gus didn’t have the brain power to actively listen. “Look,” he said, “Can we talk about this another time? I think I’d better go home.”
Gertie smiled and said, “Of course, Mr. Espinosa. We will be in contact with you. Provided you can keep this ability under control, of course.”
He contacted them the very next day (after he almost set his apartment on fire), quit his job on the fire department, and became a trainee in PRIMUS.
He was 28. Four years later, he felt confident enough to use his own abilities in the field. He often ran into his old friends from the fire department, and they laughed at him goodnaturedly when they saw his costume – that of a fireman.