‘Just think, you can tell your mum what an exciting day you’ve had and how you’ve climbed through the window like a real firefighter,’ Kelsey said, trying to reassure the children.
A couple of the kids were still crying.
‘But it’s not exciting. There’s a fire, we’re trapped and we’re all going to die!’ one of the older kids said, his voice shrill with panic.
‘There’s a fire, yes. But I’m a firefighter and I’m going to put the blaze out,’ she told him calmly. ‘You can’t go through the door, but you’re not trapped because we’re lifting you out through the window. And you are most definitely not going to die. Not when Yellow Watch is here.’
‘Finn’s daddy is a fireman,’ one of them piped up.
‘That’s right. He’s a very good fireman. And he’s my boss. So you’re all going to be absolutely fine,’ Kelsey reassured her, continuing to lift the children out through the window one by one. ‘Just stay still so we can get you through safely, because there’s broken glass around here and I don’t want any of you to get cut.’
But the boy who’d panicked earlier struggled as she lifted him through the window. Immediately, he cried out. ‘My leg!’
He was wearing shorts, so the streak of blood was visible on his leg immediately. Quite a deep cut, from the jagged glass around the smashed window—and there was a chance that there was some glass in the wound. At least it wasn’t spurting blood, she thought, so he hadn’t nicked an artery. ‘OK, sweetheart, we’ll sort you out. Just hold still and we’ll get you out to safety. I know it hurts, but one of the ambulance team will look at your leg and make sure you’re OK. And I think they have bravery awards for special boys,’ she soothed. ‘Mark, is the ambo team here yet?’
‘We certainly are,’ a deep voice informed her.
Matt. She didn’t even need to look to know it was him. And suddenly the tension in her shoulders began to ease. Everything was going to be fine: there was nobody she’d trust more for support. She grinned. ‘Hey. What kept you, slowcoach?’
‘We don’t have the same go-faster stripes as your lot,’ he teased back. ‘You OK, Kels?’
‘Sure. Four more to go and we’re out of here. Can you look at this young man’s leg for me? And I think he might need a bravery award as well.’
‘Sounds about right. Come on, mate, I’ll carry you over to the ambulance,’ Matt said, taking the child from her. ‘We’ll sort out that cut and get you a special award.’
When she and Jane had handed the last child through, Kelsey asked, ‘That’s definitely everyone?’
Jane nodded. ‘I think so.’
‘Good. Through you go.’ Kelsey helped her through the window into Mark’s arms. She’d pushed her BA set back through to Mark and was halfway through the gap in the window herself—protected by her gloves and fire gear—when one of the children called, ‘Where’s Mikey and Lucy?’
Ah, hell. She should’ve thought. In situations like these, the kids were usually better at knowing who was there and who wasn’t than the teachers—they remembered if their friend was in late because they’d been to the dentist, or had gone home early because they’d been sick. Registers were only accurate at the time they were taken—all sorts of things could change during the school day.
The class teacher did a head count and was clearly running through the register in her mind. ‘They’re not here.’
‘They were definitely in today?’ At the teacher’s nod, Kelsey asked, ‘Where are they likely to be?’
‘Heaven knows with Mikey—he’s never still for more than three seconds,’ the teacher said, sounding grim.
‘You’re sure he isn’t out there and hasn’t just slipped out of the line and gone onto the playground or something?’
The teacher shook her head. ‘They’re all strictly in line, except Edward, who’s in the ambulance having his leg patched up.’
‘Right. I’ll go back and check the cupboards,’ Kelsey said. Sometimes a fire scared kids so much that they’d hide in a confined space. ‘Or maybe they’ve gone to the toilet. I’ll check. What do they look like?’
‘Mikey’s tall and skinny, blond hair, and Lucy’s small and dark-haired,’ Jane told her. ‘I’ll come with you.’
Kelsey shook her head. ‘No, it’s too dangerous. Stay there and see if any of the kids remember them disappearing, or if they heard where Mikey or Lucy was planning to go. Any news, contact me on my radio. Where are the toilets?’
‘Out of the door, turn right, and they’re on the left-hand side at the end of the corridor.’
Near the flames. OK. Kelsey climbed back through the window. ‘Mark, give me the BA set. The pressure’s at 300 so I’ve got forty minutes.’
He handed the set through. ‘Forty minutes in normal conditions—but you know it’s less than that in a fire. I want you on your way back when the pressure’s down to 200.’ Which was less than halfway through the cylinder, because she needed to leave a safety margin. You had to be prepared for anything in a fire. ‘Keep in radio contact, and as soon as you’re in a compartment with smoke do a left-hand search from the doorway,’ Mark added.
A left-hand search meant keeping her left hand in contact with the wall. Then, if she wasn’t back to her starting point when the pressure in her oxygen tank reached 200, she’d turn round so her right hand was against the wall and work her way back. In a smoke-filled room, you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, so working by touch was the only way to get back where you started.
Mikey, who was never still for more than three seconds…tall and skinny and blond…Kelsey remembered him now from Yellow Watch’s recent visit to the school. He’d touched everything and fiddled with things, but he’d also been quickwitted and taken everything she’d said on board when she’d shown him round the engine, asked lots of questions and said he really wanted to be a firefighter when he was older. If he managed to contain his energy, he’d be a good one, Kelsey thought.
She put her breathing apparatus set on her back but left the mask off. ‘Mikey? Lucy? If you’re here, come out. You win the hiding game, but we need to get out of here.’
Silence.
She checked the cupboards in the classroom anyway. Nothing. ‘Classroom empty,’ she reported into her radio. ‘I’m going into the corridor.’ Which was full of smoke. ‘I’ll check the toilets first.’ Hopefully the kids would’ve remembered what they’d said at the talk last week: if you’re in a fire, get down because smoke rises.
And it was smoke that killed.
Left-hand search. She put her hand to the wall. Through her gloves, she could feel that the walls were panelled. Not good—because you could think you’d put a blaze out when the fire had actually travelled through the panelling and could break out somewhere else. She’d need to keep an eye out for white smoke, presaging of a flashover.
‘Lucy? Mikey?’ Her voice was muffled through the mask, but she couldn’t risk taking it off. ‘Scream if you can hear me. Scream as loud as you can.’
Nothing but the dull roar of the flames.
She made her way through to the toilets. Searched them thoroughly. ‘Nothing in the toilets,’ she said. ‘And all doors in the corridor are closed on the left-hand side. Ask Jane if there’s a room Mikey likes most.’
‘Roger.’ She heard Mark calling to Jane, then he reported back. ‘No, the kid could be anywhere.’
‘OK. I’ll do a room-by-room search.’
‘You’ve got two minutes