Weekend Writing Warriors


             “Patrick, help me,” Mathews called out as Wren found himself restrained and carried out of the house by the two large firemen.

            “Derek’s still in there,” Wren yelled, even as the men managed to drag him off the deck, away from the thick smoke, and down to the rigs that were still working overtime to let loose streams of water. He wrestled and cried out when each move led to a deep gut wrenching agony that nearly had him vomiting. He tore his mask off and growled, “We need to go back.”

            The lieutenant came up to him, his jaw tense, eyes filled with sadness, he turned Wren to face the fire again. It no longer resembled a house, just a pile of burning rubble with Derek buried beneath the flames. “There’s nothing else we can do.”

            The pain that wracked Wren’s body nothing compared to the all encompassing anguish of losing Derek, blissfully, he blacked out.

~ Above is an excerpt from Lost in the Fire (Firehouse Six, Book #5). 



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