Chasing the Fire (Backdraft, Fully Involved, Flashover)

Kathryn Shay spent five years riding fire trucks with
a large city fire department, eating in their firehouses and
interviewing hundreds of America’s Bravest. Read the books that
resulted from her intense relationship with firefighters!

“
A riveting series from USA Today bestselling
author Kathryn Shay, master of deeply emotional and sexy
firefighter books.  Don't miss this captivating series!” 
Rita Award winning author Wendy Lindstrom

“
Kathryn Shay loves firefighters, and if you
didn't love them before, you'll love them after reading some of her
books featuring firefighting heroes and heroines. As always, she
depicts the romance of her main characters with deftness and
passion.” USA TODAY bestseller Judith Arnold

“
This series really pulled me in and gave me
something different from the usual fare. I loved the action
scenes…plot twists I didn't see coming…the romance between the main
characters…their struggles as professionals, and their unshakable
integrity.  I am now a diehard fan of Kathryn Shay!”  USA
TODAY bestseller Julianne Maclean

“
Nobody writes firefighters like Kathryn Shay. Her
research makes the details of firefighter life believable while
never intruding on the story. And what stories! Wonderful
characters, great, compelling romance.” Rita Award winning author
Patricia Ryan

“
You’ll care for these men and women because
they’re smart, caring, and very, very human. Their human flaws make
you root for them and appreciate their bravery – physical and
emotional – all the more.” USA TODAY bestseller Patricia
McLinn

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Backdraft

Fully Involved

Flashover

About Kathryn Shay

Smashwords Edition

“
HEY, GALLAGHER, I
hear your cutie’s
subbing on the Rescue Squad tonight. You gonna bunk with her?”

Riley looked up from a copy of
The Heart
of Hidden Cove
, a magazine produced by the husband of a
firefighter he liked. “Say one word against Jane and I’ll deck you,
Decarlo.”

“Ha! You and whose army?”

The retort was accurate. He’d need a
battalion to subdue Rocky Decarlo,
the Rock,
a hulk of a
guy, with hands like baseball mitts and a body as big as the trunk
of a tree.

Riley snorted back. He liked Rocky and knew
the guy was wholly supportive of the women in the department.
Besides, Jane Phillips could take care of herself. That trait was
one of the many things he loved about her. Really, he’d been crazy
about his childhood friend, turned high school sweetheart, turned
fiancé for literally half their lives.

The magazine article on Hale’s Haven, a camp
for the kids of firefighters and police officers that was held
every summer, kept his attention until she walked into the
kitchen.

Rocky greeted her with a big hug. “Wish you
were on this shift more often, Phillips. We’d rather look at your
beautiful face than Gallagher’s ugly mug.”

“Yeah, I can understand that.”

Janie wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous and they both
knew Riley was, but they joked about it. He dug her dark, short,
sassy hair, chocolate-brown eyes and her five-foot-eight sturdy
build. Also, Jane possessed an inner beauty, which he’d seen when
she was a gawky nerd in high school and he was a star football
player. He’d fallen hard in that tenth-grade science lab and was
still madly in love with the woman.

She glanced over and winked at him. “Hi,
hotshot.”

“Sweetie.” He smiled, grateful all over again
that she was part of his life’s work.

The only thing he cared about as much as
Janie, his mother and a sister who’d given him two beautiful
nephews was firefighting. He scowled. Too bad one of the boys was
named after Riley’s degenerate father who’d once been his
idol.

The captain of the Rescue Squad, Nick Evans,
walked in. “Gallagher, your fan club’s outside. They came right
from school.”

“Oh, fun. I love those kids.”

“Yeah, that’s why they keep bugging us.”

Ever since House 7 had gone on a call at an
elementary school to put out a simple fire, the kids had rallied
around Riley because he’d found a couple of little ones hiding in a
closet and carried them out. He’d told them to stop by the fire
station anytime—and they did.

A staticky voice crackled out from the PA.
“Fire on First and Liberty. Rescue Squad 7 and Quint and Midi 7 go
into service.”

It was as if somebody had turned on a switch.
All teasing evaporated and the men and women assigned to the three
trucks in the house bolted up from wherever they were and met in
the bay; the smell of gasoline and smoke was strong.

Three feet from the rigs, eleven sets of
turnout boots and pants waited for them on the concrete. Riley
kicked off his shoes, tugged on his boots and pulled up the bulky,
blue pants, securing them with yellow suspenders. Just before he
hopped on the truck, he caught a glimpse of Janie heading toward
the Rescue rig.
Be careful,
she mouthed.

He nodded to her.
You, too.

They were lucky that way, having vowed not to
worry about each other on the line. But it was easier to dismiss
the danger she put herself in when she worked at her home firehouse
and out of his sight.

A shiver skittered through him, a feeling
something bad was going to happen today. Shaking if off, he noticed
the kids out on the pavement. “Sorry, guys,” he called out. “Next
time.”

Openmouthed, they watched him climb on the
truck, where his turnout coat and self-contained breathing
apparatus, commonly called SCBA, awaited.

Adam Langston, another firefighter on the
Quint, drove the truck from the bay at high speed on the mild April
night.

Lt. Tony Ramirez, seated next to him, warned,
“Careful, Langston, we wanna get there.”

Sirens blared and horns blew as they rumbled
through the April night, the streets crowded with traffic. And
Riley did what he always did on the ride to a call. He closed his
eyes. Centered himself. Focused on the task ahead. It was one of
the many things his father had taught him.
Be prepared. Get into
the zone. You need all your wits about you to fight a fire.

In minutes, they arrived at the abandoned
clothing store in the center of Hidden Cove. Since it was a
one-alarm blaze, Company Seven was the only one called. The Rescue
Squad would search the building, the Quint would gain entry and
slap water on the fire, and the small Midi’s job was to deal with
medical issues. It had recently been replaced with a truck that had
a bed area in the back so the paramedics could drive victims to the
hospital.

Their battalion chief was also on scene.
Mitch Malvaso was the town hero, a top-notch firefighter, and an
all-around great guy. He made his way to them from his setup of
Incident Command on his department Jeep. “One-floor building.
Fire’s contained to the front, we think. Smoke color says no
chemicals are in there, which makes sense, because the building was
a clothing store. But be on your toes. You never know what the Red
Devil’s gonna do.”

Another shiver ran through Riley. He ignored
it and focused on the instructions shouted by the officers.

Captain Evans gestured to his crew. “Once the
fire’s contained, the five of us will head inside and scour the
back.” To the Quint, he added, “The rest of you’ll search the
front.”

Though the building was abandoned, Riley knew
that every section needed to be thoroughly searched. Since the
structure was in the center of town, homeless people might have
taken shelter inside. Hell, the fire could have been started by
druggies freebasing in there. Even the idyllic town of Hidden Cove,
an hour outside of New York City, had its share of social
problems.

While the Rescue Squad circled around back,
Ramirez huddled with his crew. “Gallagher, follow me with the
rabbit tool. Decarlo, take the hose in behind him and the rest of
you follow
them
.
”
Langston, the driver, would stay
with the truck. Even the paramedics went inside, as they were fully
certified firefighters.

After he yanked the pry tool off the rig, as
the others were unfurling the hose, Riley followed Ramirez to the
building.

The doors were double-wide and padlocked.
“Shit,” Riley said. Someone from behind nudged his arm with
cutters. Firefighters never left the truck without a tool. Riley
snapped the thick chains and, over the mic pinned to his collar,
heard the lieutenant speak into his radio. “Door’s chained. We
snapped it but the Rescue Squad should know that nobody got in this
way.”

Riley put the tip of the rabbit tool—a
hydraulic hand held manually operated tool—between the door and
frame. He pumped the pneumatic unit so the two interlocking jaws
exerted enough force to pop the doors. They opened inward.

Inside the building, they were met with a
gray curtain of smoke that they couldn’t see through. The Rescue
Squad had a thermal imager for use when the flames were out, but
Riley’s group would work blind.

His crew slapped water in the front rooms,
which
was
the point of origin. The noise was loud and
hissing; he could hear it, even through his facemask and helmet. In
ten minutes, the fire was doused. Next, two of his guys would take
axes to the walls to make sure no flames were hiding.

The lieutenant’s voice came over the mic
again. “Gallagher, go down the left hallways with Duncan. Me and
Decarlo will take the ones on the right.”

Again over the mic, Riley heard from Evans
from the rear. “We’re in the back of the store and searching these
rooms. We already found two guys and dragged them out so there
are
folks inside.”

“Make sure you’re thorough.” Malvaso’s voice
came next. “We don’t want to lose anybody because of neglect.”

Thinking,
Nobody will be left behind on my
watch,
Riley turned left with Duncan behind him. Because of the
heat, they dropped to their knees and ran their hands along the
wall to find their way. Their progress was slow, but this was how
fires were fought.

oOo

JANE PHILLIPS WAS
glad she kept in
shape. Even so, her arms ached with the weight of the four people
she’d dragged out of the building. She was heading back inside when
Evans stopped her. “You okay to go in again, Phillips?” he asked.
“You been in and out four times.”

“Since I heard you ask Bilky that, I won’t
consider it a sexist question, Cap.” Her tone was teasing. She knew
Evans was fair and generous to women and had gotten some on to
rescue squads.

“Then ladies first, Phillips.” The remark was
also made in good humor. Man, she loved her job.

Jane led the way through the door, and Evans
nudged up to her side. The smoke was lessening, but she still
couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. Evans held up the
imager. They walked quickly through the sectioned-off areas they’d
already checked. The rank smell of decay and the stink of smoke
seeped in through her SCBA mask.

“There’s an area at the end we didn’t cover,
Phillips. Stay close.”

They’d taken only three steps when a loud
cracking noise rent the air, and the floor opened up. They fell
through fast. Before Jane could internalize what had happened, she
landed on top of the captain. He hit his head and his face mask
flew off. Loss of air made him cough.