Maxim Conrad did not wake up that morning expecting to die.
He was twenty-two, he stood tall at 6'2 feet, enough to tower over most people. His build was lean but muscular, the result of years of training, climbing ladders, and carrying people out of burning buildings and was required for his line of work. Arizona stretched below him from the top of the fire station's training tower, a mess of lights, traffic, tangled roads, and noise. He leaned on the railing while his partner, Roan, shouted from below that the drill was over.
Maxim pulled off his gloves. His arms felt heavy from the climb. Training always hit harder during the summer; the daily temperature could reach up to 105 to 115 degrees Fahrenheit here.
He went down the ladder, boots thudding against metal rungs. Roan clapped him on the back.
"You're still as slow as ever" The clearly slimmer man teased shamelessly
Maxim retorted with a lazy smile. "Well, you also weight 50 pounds less so keep that in mind." Both of them laughed.
He wished he could go home to sleep, but it was only the start of his shift. They headed inside, with the unbearable heat searing the clay tiles outside the compound.
The moment they entered, the smell of coffee, sweat, oil, and old extinguishers hit them. He signed paperwork at the front desk, joked with his coworkers/brigade, and sat down on a worn leather office chair.
He checked his phone. Missed messages from his girlfriend.
Remember to eat, call me if you're working late, stay safe out there! <3
He replied with barely contained enthusiasm.
Their relationship has been going strong for 3 years now, they had their arguments and hiccups but they only served to make their bond stronger.
His fingers hesitated, he wondered if he should call in for leave from his boss. He had been busy for the last few weeks, she missed him, he missed her. He promised himself that he would spend more time with her, unfortunately, he didn't know that time was something that he had in short.
Hours passed. The sun outside had dipped behind the dusty red hills of Phoenix, casting long shadows across the fire station. Maxim sat near the window, sipping cheap instant coffee. It tasted like plastic and chemicals, but it warmed him up.
Some nights at the station were quiet.
Most were not, today wasn't any different.
At 7:42 PM, the alarm shattered the calm.
The loudspeaker crackled. "Fire reported at the Mesa Ridge Apartments. Possible entrapment. All units prepare for dispatch."
Maxim stood so fast the coffee spilled on the floor, Ruel was already pulling on his jacket. The rest of the brigade moved with sharp, practiced speed.
Maxim grabbed his turnout gear, secured his helmet, checked his mask and gloves. His heartbeat quickened. He felt a faint sense of familiarity along with a jolt of adrenaline mixed with fear, No matter how long you did this job, the fear never vanished.
In the truck, red lights flickering across their faces, the air was tense. The siren wailed over the streets. Cars scrambled out of the way.
Maxim stared at sight of buildings and people passing by on the dim road. He steadied his resolve, he'd done this dozens of times already, this was practically routine.
He swallowed.
Mesa Ridge Apartments came into view. A mid-rise apartment complex, old and cramped, with balconies that sagged and hallways barely wide enough for two people. Black smoke floated out of the windows, fire glowed violently against the evening sky.
Crowds screamed outside, a woman was holding a toddler, crying hysterically. People shouted that someone was still inside. A man kept trying to run into the building but was held back by security guards and neighbors. Sirens from other emergency units joined theirs.
The fire was worse than Maxim expected but not the worst he had encountered before. The fourth floor was nearly engulfed. The fifth was catching. Anyone on the 6th floor or above would be trapped with no way out if they didn't move fast.
As they stepped off the truck, some residents filled them in on the situation. Multiple people were reported missing, probably on the said floor.
Their captain barked out assignments, two teams, one for the upper floors, one for fire suppression. Maxim was put on search and rescue.
His stomach tightened.
Ruel noticed. "You good?"
"Yeah."
Maxim wasn't, his hands were already shaking a little. Every fire shook him; he just hid it well.
They entered through the stairwell, which was choking with smoke and flames. Maxim felt sweat trickling down his back. The fourth floor was partially burning. They pushed past falling debris and jumped through live fire, their uniforms partially protecting them from the flames slicing, their flashlights pierced through the smoke as they searched for survivors
The heat was climbing fast as the fire spread to anything that could burn. The floor under them groaned and sagged, parts of it already starting to crack. Pieces of ceiling fell around them, covering them in charcoal and soot. Smoke thickened until it was hard to see more than a few feet ahead. They didn't have long.
The moment they entered the 5th floor, they heard a door pounding and a woman screaming from inside a room.
Someone was dying behind that door. Maxim forced his body forward, rushing through debris and smoke.
He tried the door,
*Click*
It was open but it was jammed from the other side, likely a side-effect of some debris from the fire. Maxim didn't hesitate; he backed up a bit before attempting to ram through the door shoulder first. the wooden door warped but it still hung onto its hinges stubbornly.
He rammed it a few more times before finally forcing it open with a loud thud.
He heard a voice cough weakly from the smoke-filled room. "Help."
Maxim shouted urgently into the radio. "VICTIM LOCATED, NEED ASSISTANCE ON THE FIFTH FLOOR."
He forced the door wider and stepped inside, A middle-aged woman was curled on the floor beside her bed, almost her entire body covered with debris.
The firefighter rushed to her, He lifted the debris that had her stuck, muscles shaking. The heated metal burned through his gloves, and pain shot up his arms. He clenched his teeth.
"I got you!" His voice overpowered the roar of crackling flames as he lifted her over his soldier in a classic fireman's carry.
Maxim checked her breathing. It was weak, but she was still there, he made it just in time, half a minute longer and she would've suffocated to death.
Roan appeared at the door, shouting that they had to move. The hallway behind him was getting worse.
They lifted her together and moved out, flaming debris rained from the ceiling. The roar of fire filled their ears. Maxim's eyes stung even behind the mask.
They made it back to the fourth floor, where air was clearer. Maxim's whole body trembled with adrenaline.
The paramedics took the woman, Maxim felt relief wash through him, one life saved.
But then before he could relax, a voice sounded over their radio "Sixth floor. Minor reported trapped in the north corridor. Structural integrity unstable. I Repeat, unstable, do not attempt rescue without further instruction."
Maxim's heart dropped, even Roan hesitated. "That floor is fully cut off."
Maxim looked upward, saw flames exploding out the sixth-floor windows. It was basically a fucking furnace up there. No ladder truck could reach that height safely, the hallway stairwell near six was likely destroyed.
Roan grabbed his shoulder, looking into his eyes like he knew what he was thinking about. "I know what you're thinking, we received direct orders. Wait for external rescue. They can reach the kid from the balcony."
That wasn't enough assurance for him.
"You saw the fifth floor Roan, now imagine a child, probably not even older than 10, enduring something like that, because we are sitting on our fucking arses looking pretty." Maxim reasoned.
Their radios crackled.
Maxim froze only for a heartbeat, then he started toward the stairwell.
"Max." Roan grabbed his arm. "Max, don't be stupid, that floor's half gone. You go up there, you're fucking dead."
Maxim pulled his arm free. "And a kid's staying up there alone, suffering and suffocating in smoke while we can do something about it." He shook his head. "Not on my watch."
"That's not your call!" Roan barked, stepping in front of him. "Command said it's suicide."
Maxim's eyes burned, not from smoke this time. "Then let it be on my head."
Roan clenched his jaw. "Max-"
But Maxim was already moving, pushing past fallen beams and raging flames. The stairwell door groaned when he shoved it open, ash falling like dead snow.
Roan cursed under his breath. "Fuck. Fuck!"
Maxim's radio crackled with his heavy breathing as he climbed.
Roan stared for one more second, he understood that Maxim would do the same for him without hesitation so despite the overwhelming fear he felt, he followed right after.
"Goddammit," he growled, ripping off a hanging strip of melted insulation from his gear. "We're dying together, you stubborn bastard."
He sprinted after him, boots thundering up the stairs. The building groaned around them, metal twisting, wood popping. Every step was a gamble on their lives.
"Max!" Roan shouted through the thickening smoke.
A moment later, he heard Maxim's voice echo back, rough and determined. "I'm not leaving that kid!"
Roan gritted his teeth, pushing harder. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he muttered. "That's why I'm not leaving you."
Up they went, toward the sixth floor, the floor everyone else had already written off as a lost cause.
But brothers don't abandon brothers, and neither of them shy away from death anyways.
The hallway groaned like the whole building was begging to fall. Fire chewed through the ceiling, dripping molten debris that sizzled when it hit the floor. Roan pushed forward through the smoke until a small, choked cough cut through the roar.
"There!" he shouted.
A boy, no older than eight was curled behind a fallen cabinet, a heavy beam pinning his leg. His face was streaked with soot, eyes wide and wet with terror.
Maxim was already running.
"Kid! Hey, hey. I'm here," he said, dropping to his knees. "We're getting you out."
Roan grabbed the other end of the beam. "Max, this thing is holding the whole damn ceiling up."
Maxim looked him dead in the eyes and replied. "Then don't let go."
They lifted.
The beam groaned, the ceiling whining above them like a dying animal. Flames curled along the rafters, cracking them open.
"Almost," Maxim grunted. "Just, hold-"
The boy cried out in pain as Maxim pulled him free, sweeping him into his arms. The second the child was loose; the beam shook violently.
Roan's eyes widened. "MOVE!"
The ceiling collapsed behind Maxim's back. Heat slammed into him, concrete crushed his lower body, the world exploding into fire and dusty, everything rang, everything shook, and for a moment Maxim couldn't tell if he was still breathing or imagining it.
Roan's voice cut through the haze. "Max!"
Smoke blurred the edges of Maxim's vision as Roan appeared beside him with the boy, his face streaked with ash and panic. Maxim tried to laugh, the sound dry and cracked in his throat.
Roan shook his head, trying again to lift the slab, grunting with effort. Nothing moved. The building rumbled, dust drifting like heavy snow. The boy hid his face against Roan's collar, shaking.
Maxim's thoughts started floating, slipping, blurring together, he reached for Roan's arm, fingers barely responding. "Just… get him out," he whispered, the words already fading in his ears. "That's enough, kid has an entire life ahead of him"
Roan said something in return, voice breaking, but Maxim couldn't make out the words anymore. The firelight smeared, the smoke thickened, and everything began to darken around the edges, soft and distant, like sinking underwater.
His last sight was Roan holding the boy tighter, before muttering something under his breath, tears flowing down his face as he leaved him behind.
Good.