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Naya stepped closer to get a better look.
“And bring the coroner,” Basuto radioed and let out a sigh. “We’ve got…”
Naya tuned out Basuto’s conversation. Her eyes were plastered to the man in the front seat. His face was pale, but his clean clothing indicated he hadn’t been here long. “No, no. Oh, God. No,” she mumbled.
It couldn’t be. She must be hallucinating.
“This can’t be real.” Naya squeezed the skin on her forearm between her fingernails. The pain that followed told her she wasn’t dreaming.
“It’s all my fault.” She went to take a step forward, but her legs wouldn’t move.
“Nay.” Zack’s voice echoed somewhere in the recesses of her mind, and strong arms wrapped around her.
Former fire chief Ricky Powells stared back at her with lifeless eyes.
TWENTY-NINE
Sweat dripped down Zack’s shirt and threatened to drown him in a pool of heartbreaking loss. He stared unseeing at the wall in the firehouse weight room.
It’s all your fault. That’s why he’s dead.
It wasn’t Naya’s admission from yesterday; it was Powells’s. Back when Zack was a kid staring at the flames consuming his parents’ house.
Don’t leave meeee.The cry of his eight-year-old voice reverberated in his skull.
They’re gone, kid. You were too late.The fire chief’s curt tone pierced his eardrum.
Now Powells was dead.
The weights on the shoulder press clanked over and over with each repetition. But no matter how many sets he did, he couldn’t silence the echo of that voice.
Zack pulled the weight toward his chest once more, then let it drop back into place on top of the pile with a thud. He let out a grunt and fisted his hands. Too bad they didn’t have a boxing set in the firehouse gym. He could use a good couple of lunge punches.
Instead, he dropped to the floor and started a speed round of push-ups.
“With a routine like that, you’re going to be sore for the next couple of days.” Eddie swung a towel over his shoulder and sat on the bench, setting his water bottle next to him.
“At least I’ll be ready for a callout.” Zack pushed himself off the ground, breathing hard. He moved to the bench and grabbed a towel. After he wiped the perspiration off his brow, he took a swig of his water. “I can’t get yesterday out of my mind, man.” Zack shuddered. If he could take the guilt from Naya and shoulder it himself, he’d do it in a heartbeat. “It never gets easier.”
“We see tragedy too often.” Eddie’s low voice carried the weight of the reality. “But it’s a good thing it’s not getting easier. Or else we’d be calloused. And that’s a problem.”
“The emotions are hard to swallow at times.” Zack gritted his teeth. He’d already shared all the sordid details with his friend yesterday over the phone after he’d gotten home. “All I see are my parents. And Powells. So much loss.”
Zack sat with Eddie in silence for several minutes. Nothing could be said to change the outcomes or take the pain away.
“When we walk through the fire, we’re not alone. You’re not alone.” Eddie pointed a finger at Zack. “You’ve got the Lord and this crew.”
“I was just reading those verses in Isaiah the other day.” Zack gave a short laugh. Nothing like hearing the same truth in different ways.
“The Lord has a good way of reminding us what we need to take to heart.” Eddie smiled. “Naya’s gonna need people surrounding her too,” he said. “Reminding her it’s not her fault.”
“It feels like being back in the system some days. One loss after another, you know?”
Eddie grimaced.
“How many more need to leave, disappear, or die before one stays?”
“Jesus. Remind her of Jesus.” Eddie took a swig of water.