Rory: Hope City, Book 7 by Maryann Jordan (uplifting books for women txt) 📕

“What’s going on?” Anthony called out, rushing forward from the hall into the office, his wide-eyed gaze landing first on her before shooting over to the smoking wall.

“What the hell are you doing here?” the other man yelled at the same time, entering the office behind Anthony.

“This!” she shouted, pointing to the still-smoking fuse box. “This is what I was talking about! I don’t know what’s going on, but something’s wrong with it.”

Anthony stood with his eyes wide and his hands lifted in front of him as the other man stomped past her. He reached out and grabbed the lift handle on the fuse box. “Fuck!” He snapped his hand back and shook his fingers.

“That’s what I’ve been complaining about. It’s smoking!” she said, turning her accusing gaze toward Anthony.

The man grabbed the handle again and jerked it open quickly. Sparks shot out before the inside wires flamed. Before either man had a chance to react, the fire alarms began screeching throughout the building.

“Oh, my God! Get out!” Anthony screamed, his arms waving as he ran toward the elevator.

“It won’t work! The elevator shuts off when the fire alarms react!” the other man shouted.

She was right behind Anthony when the three of them reached the office doorway at the same time. Anthony rushed through, but her arm was grabbed by the other man as he jerked her backward to get to the door first. Losing her balance, her ankle twisted, and she fell to the side. Her head hit the corner of the elegant receptionist desk she had admired earlier. Pain shot through her head and neck just before the lights from the hallway lobby went black.

26

When the Fifty-two-C-one call came in, the paramedics jumped into their ambulances, waiting for the fire trucks and fire engines to pull out first. The call went out to multiple stations, and Rory followed the truck through the intersections as they made their way toward the harbor.

“First Battalion, Jonesville Station, Engine five, Truck three, Medic fourteen. Second Battalion, Barker Station, Engine thirteen, Truck seventeen, Medic four—”

“Residential or commercial?” Rory asked Shania, interrupting the continuous central radio station listings, surprised the call code didn’t delineate.

“Hang on.” Shania listened to a separate radio channel of information coming from dispatch. “It’s both commercial and residential. New, but unoccupied.”

“Thank God—”

“Shit! No, Rory… it’s the Partridge Tower.”

His heart jolted in his chest and he gasped, the air in the cab of the ambulance suddenly thick with fear. Even if he hadn’t just glanced at the intersection street sign, the brake lights on the fire trucks ahead signaled their arrival. “Move on up, move on!” he growled. “Where the hell do they want us?”

The gala had resulted in cars lining the street, making it difficult for the trucks to get through. Several of the fire engines honked their horns but the results were little movement and mostly more noise.

“Get behind truck fourteen,” Shania called out, her hand lifted, pointing out the front window.

Slamming on the brakes, he threw the ambulance into park. They were half a block away from Partridge Tower, but the ladder trucks and engines needed to be close. He leaned forward and looked up, his sense of relief filling him that there was no visible fire or smoke.

“Damn, look at all these people!” Shania said.

The sidewalks were jammed with black-suited men and evening wear-clad women, their loud babbling simply adding to the noise but barely heard over the continued scream of sirens. The police officers were calling out orders as they herded the gala attendees away from the building. “Keep on walking! Move to the end of the block! Do not leave until you have been accounted for!”

Climbing from the ambulance, Rory scanned the masses, desperate to land his gaze on Sandy, but knew it would be impossible to find a petite blonde on the crowded sidewalk in the dark right now. Hustling to the back of the ambulance, he looked toward the end of the block where a police blockade was already gathering attendees, knowing they’d need to take names for cross-reference and check who was missing.

His radio blared with instructions. “Base station at the corner of Market and Broadmore.”

“Engine five at three-forty-two pump.”

“Engine five, hook it up.”

“Smoke alarm—eighth floor. Casualties unknown.”

“Team four—lead—eighth floor. Team two—follow—sixteen down. Team seven—ten down. Team three—seven down.”

“Medic eleven, go in with Team four.”

At that, Rory jerked around toward Shania. He usually didn’t go into a building in full fireman’s uniform, but his captain determined he was needed as the fireman’s paramedic. Leaving her and Bobby to work with the other paramedics and EMTs on the outside, he ran to the fire engine. Reaching inside, he grabbed the pants, pulling them on over his uniform, jerked on the jacket, and pulled the Nomex hood over his head until his face popped out through the opening. Jamming his feet into boots, he picked up his paramedic equipment and hustled after the firefighters in Team four.

“Rory! Rory McBride!”

He turned at the sound of his name being yelled from the side, seeing Sandy’s coworker and her father trying to push past the police officers standing guard outside the lobby doors. “Let them through!”

The officer waved and the two men ran to him, both talking at once.

“I can’t find her,” Ted said, his face contorted with fear. “We were talking in the lobby, but I can’t find her out here.”

“She’s upstairs. I know she’s upstairs!” Todd gushed, waving his hands and gasping. “She went back upstairs to double-check the office. They were making sure everyone was cleared out and she wanted to check on the office and then lock up. She was only gone ten minutes when the alarms went off, and I never saw her come back into the lobby!”

“Christ Almighty. Please find her!” Ted said, his gaze begging as he stared at Rory.

Rory’s heart pounded, sure that everyone could hear it through the thick layers of his uniform. Trying to hold on to