A Certain Knowing – O‟Maolain 1 Chapter 1 Blazes! The overhead lights sprang to life and the wailing sound of fire station fifty-one's toner erupted into the still night air. Eight groggy Firefighters rolled out from under their still warming sheets, quickly donning pants, shirts and shoes. Logan Keohane threw his uniform shirt across his broad shoulders, searching in vain for its left sleeve as the report of a house fire was being broadcast over the loudspeaker. If there was one thing Logan and his fellow firefighters were good at, it was dressing on the run, since departmental policy dictated leaving the station in less than one minute from the alarm. Logan was the last one out of the swinging dormitory doors, finally getting his arm correctly inserted into the obstinate shirt. There was only time to fasten two quick buttons, slip into his fire boots, slide their attached bunker pants up to his waist and pull the tight, damp suspenders over his shoulders. The driver of the pumper truck cranked the noisy diesel engine and began his noisy exit from the firehouse. Logan quickly jumped onto the moving step leading to the driver‟s side jumpseat of the huge engine. "What a night," he lamented drowsily into the darkness. The shriek of the siren cut coldly into the inky cool darkness, rattling his still waking brain into a semblance of coherency. Shaking his head to clear the last of the cobwebs from his vision, Logan caught a glimpse of the Hook and Ladder Truck lumbering slowly out of the station behind them. Its massive red form was silhouetted against the glare of the open bay doors like a pulsing red whale, screaming its ire at such a rude awakening. Logan slipped his arms through the sleeves of his bunker coat and caught a brief shiver from the cold dampness lurking there. He closed the fasteners and paused long A Certain Knowing – O‟Maolain 2 enough to feel the bulk and heavy weight of the protective firefighter's coat, still dripping wet from a stubborn blaze they had fought just hours ago. The sluggish firefighter shivered involuntarily and sat heavily into the tiny, open-aired jumpseat as the brisk early morning breeze whistled around his ears and found its way down the back of his suddenly chilled neck. Groping in the darkness, he found the thick, webbed straps of his airpark and wiggled into the tight harness until they were pulled snugly over his shoulders. The way the pack was recessed deeply into the back of the jumpseat didn't afford someone of Logan's stature much room to maneuver and don the contraption. The apparatus was held tightly in place by two steel claws clamped firmly around the heavy air cylinder. Attached to the cylinder was a small metal frame and three webbed straps which held the piece of equipment onto the shoulders and around the waist of the wearer. Logan struggled briefly against the feeling of restriction created by the tightly secured pack. Roughly, he jammed down the release lever on his left side, freeing the pack from its securing clamps. The fireman quickly stood up, feeling the full weight of the heavy appliance across his shoulders. Being a bodybuilder had some advantages in strength and conditioning, yet getting into an airpack wasn't made any easier. Just then, the huge truck made an unexpected left turn that threw Logan brusquely against the warm engine cowling. He grasped for the railing attached to the back of the fire engine's cab, pulling himself upright. Always an adventure, he thought, buckling the third strap of the airpack tightly around his waist. "Keohane, we got another burner!" Jake Garcia, his new partner, screamed out to him above the din of the siren and the loud diesel engine. "Second one tonight!" Logan looked up to see Jake pointing excitedly across the top of the fire engine's cab to a bright glow against the starry horizon. A dim column of smoke was rising skyward, illuminated softly by the light of the half moon. They were only about a half mile from the fire he reckoned. Hurriedly, the suddenly invigorated fireman finished donning the rest of his equipment and made a quick self-survey of its proper positioning. "Rookies!" Logan grumbled to himself, watching the animated excitement of his young cohort. As they pulled up to the fire scene, he noticed that they were the first engine company on location. Logan made a hasty visual scan of the scene while rolling to an abrupt, squeaking stop. On the opposite side of the pumper truck was a large one story house with the back half totally engulfed in flame. Fire roared out of its rear windows, licking the sky twenty feet above the roof. Smoke spewed fiendishly upward into a thick, black boiling column that disappeared into the early morning sky. "My God, it's cookin'!" Jake screamed, jumping off the parked truck. Logan ran around the rear of the pumper truck, almost colliding with his captain who had just jumped out of the cab. A Certain Knowing – O‟Maolain 3 "Pull an inch and a half line around to the right side. I'll take the rookie with another line through the front! We'll push the fire out the back!" the captain commanded. The authority of a seasoned battlefield officer emanated from the leader‟s very word. Logan reached into the side hose rack of the fire engine, pulling mightily on one of the one and one-half inch fire hoses until he had it lying in an organized pile on the ground in front of him. He fumbled momentarily in the semi-darkness for the elusive fire nozzle that was buried somewhere in the pile of hose at his feet. Getting a grip on the appliance at last, the excited firefighter picked it up and ran with the still dry hose line as fast as it and his heavy gear would allow. Breathlessly stationing himself a dozen feet from the right side of the burning building, Keohane ran his hand through his reddish-blond hair, slipped on the airpack's facemask that had been dangling around his neck and turned the air on. A sudden burst of forced air blasted up his nostrils, taking the remainder of his breath away. On cue, the firehose he held began writhing to hissing life. Logan replaced his helmet and felt a hand tightly grasp his shoulder. He peered through the scratched plastic lens of the mask to see John Grissom taking up a position to back him up on the heavy hose line. Normally, the ladder truck crew was not available to help the pumper crew, but, thankfully, tonight they had somehow come up with an extra crew member. "Are you ready?" Logan screamed against the muffling effect of the facemask. "Let's jam!" was John's mask-dulled reply. The two companions stepped forward as one unit toward a blackened window at the edge of the fire's progress. Even from that distance the heat from the blaze was so intense that it was felt through his protective gear. Beads of sweat welled up on Logan's forehead, mercilessly rolling into his sore eyes as they plodded closer to the abyss of hellfire. Slowly, he opened the nozzle, still approaching the burning building. A stream of water cascaded against the tongues of flame that lapped out, licking hungrily for the underside of the roof. The water hissed a deafening scream as his torrent played across the flaming portal, instantly changing to steam while vaporously extinguishing the burning eaves and facia. The hose stream then descended to the window opening, shattering what little glass remained in the blackened frames. Reaching the opening, Logan leaned his weight against the charred, wet sill and adjusted the nozzle into a "fog" pattern. The water suddenly turned into a hissing fan of liquid, making an umbrella-like pattern that fanned out in all directions right in front of him. "Help me in," the breathless fireman bellowed to John, his left foot swinging roughly over the dripping window sill. A Certain Knowing – O‟Maolain 4 John's stout body pushed solidly against Logan's. He made use of its planted firmness as a propulsion device to slip into the pitch dark opening. Keohane's sight was restricted by the scratched up facemask before entering the building, but now, the thick, dark smoke obliterated everything. The only thing left before his eyes was a totally engulfing darkness. Slowly sliding his feet back and forth on the slick, wet floor, the blinded rescuer shuffled into the waiting void, looking for the telltale amber glow of live flame. The intense buildup of heat inside the burning building created a steaming effect that was almost unbearable. The overwhelming swelter along with the agonizing sweat that now poured freely into his raw eyes sapped Logan's strength with each slippery step he took. Intent on his mission, the fireman valiantly put all thought of discomfort aside, sliding along, not quite sure of his destination. Logan scanned the darkness, seeing no hint of fire in his view. Slowly, he shut down the stream of water to ease his progress into other parts of the structure. He slid his way carefully forward into the inundating blackness, until once again feeling John's reassuring grip upon his shoulder. Bumping into a small piece of furniture, the tiring fireman moved it roughly out of his way with a quick flick of his foot. Finally, his outstretched right hand touched the firmness of a crossing wall.