Mack couldn't figure out where the rest of the firemen were that night. He could hear shouts, but they seemed a long way from where he fought his fiery foe. His only hope was that help would show up soon. The flames were licking up the walls and creeping across the ceiling; the room was practically engulfed.
The fire fed on the combustibles that filled the room and seemed impervious to his hose and water. As clouds of smoke and steam mixed with the flames, Mack knew his fight was useless. He edged his way toward the only opening that didn't have leaping flames shooting through it.
Before he could make it across the room and reach his escape route, he heard the crack of wood overhead. He raised his head just in time to see a heavy beam breaking loose on the ceiling and plunge toward him. Mack tried to scramble out of the path, but with his heavy clothing, it proved impossible. The long timber had him trapped and there was no escaping. He glanced up just before the heavy beam landed on him. Oh, hell, it's going to hit me! The flaming length of wood landed and brought a searing pain through his head. His six-foot muscular frame collapsed in a heap on the floor. Although he tried, he couldn't move his legs from under the heavy weight.
The heavy hose and nozzle grew lighter in his hands, the flames moved slower across the ceiling and the smoke thickened; the room beyond his facemask felt smaller – and darker... He fought his way back to consciousness, trying to right his world. He heard shouts, but they seemed a long way from where he lay on the wet floor.
An eternity of time seemed to pass, but it may have only been seconds; Mack didn't have a sense of time. The pain shot through his head again, and just when he was ready to give up hope, he felt a pair of hands tugging on the debris covering his legs.
Once his legs were free, Mack felt the hands checking his legs for injuries. Those same hands brushed over his crotch and even in his state of pain, he felt excitement course through him at his strange savior's touch.
