(day of the switch)
Location: San Francisco, California, world of Earth.
The familiar rush of adrenaline surged through Vivian. She grabbed her turnouts— her designated, heavy, protective gear—from the hooks near the door. Her boots, already integrated with her pants, slid on in one swift motion. She pulled on her thick, fire-resistant coat, securing the clasps, then grabbed her gloves, also thick and insulated. Within seconds, she was mostly geared with her breath already quickening in anticipation.
She sprinted towards the fire engine door, the station garage doors already lifting. Engine 36 rumbled with its lights flashing. She leapt into the jumpseat behind the driver and secured her harness with a familiar click that indicated she was ready to go. The siren gave two quick bursts to signal that it was rolling out the station in a warning to any vehicles that ignored the STAY CLEAR markings on the street.
After they pulled out the sirens wailed to life and signaled they were on the move with a deafening shriek. The ride was bumpy with starts and stops as they paused until the traffic ceded to the flashing lights and roaring sirens. There were always drivers who ignored the massive red fire engine, flashing and wailing behind them. But each second counted.
Outside of the window, Vivian could see the cityscape giving way to the grittier industrial district where she had been spending so much of her time for the arson investigation. She pulled her phone out of her coat pocket and checked the address just to make sure it wasn't on the GIG list. She would have to put the phone in a personal bag that stayed in the truck just before they arrived.
Good. It's not on the list, Vivian assured herself before bagging the phone and tucking it in her usual storage spot.
They arrived at a familiar scene. Smoke billowed from the roof and shattered windows of the five-story brick building, thick and black against the pre-dusk sky. Flames waved frantically from holes in the upper floors that brought no light to the shadowed street. Water cascaded down the building's exterior, flowing in torrents from hoses deployed by Engine 22 and Ladder 41, who were already there. The ground around the building was a churned-up mix of mud and debris. And the air was still thick with the pungent and sharp scent of burnt materials. Command was already established, and Lieutenant Delgado quickly got their assignment.
"Engine 36 is on interior attack! Primary search for victims and knock out any hotspots. Rossi, you're lead with Chen—thermal camera and search. Lorenson, you're paired with Jones—thermal camera and overhaul. Remember, safety first. If the floors or any large debris so much as whispers they might come down, get out of there. Immediately. Move!"
"Copy that, Lieutenant!" Rossi yelled over the roar of the fire.
Vivian quickly pulled on her SCBA mask, the hiss of air a steady comfort. She then grabbed her helmet, securing it tightly, and activated the small helmet camera mounted on its side, ensuring it was recording. Finally, she reached for the thermal imaging camera, or TIC, its screen a dark rectangle in her gloved hand. She checked the battery life. Plenty of time. Then Vivian and her partner, Jones, did one last safety check on each other's air tanks and gear before entering the building.
Rossi and Chen disappeared into a smoke-filled entrance, their headlamps bobbing. Vivian and Jones, meanwhile, moved towards an entry point where the initial fire attack had significantly knocked down the flames. Their responsibility was to search for anyone potentially still in the building and identify any lingering hotspots that might flare up. They had to make sure the hotspots were completely extinguished.
They entered a cavernous space of the industrial building. The open floorplan was now a skeletal ruin of charred metal beams and crumbling concrete. Water dripped and pooled everywhere from a combination of the sprinkler system and the aggressive water pressure of fire suppression, turning the ash-covered floor into a slick, treacherous sludge. The ceiling, or what remained of it, sagged precariously in places, revealing glimpses of the floors above. The immense amount of water used to combat the blaze meant that almost everything was soaked, warped, or completely destroyed.
"Alright, Viv, lead the way," Jones said into his SCBA headset, his voice slightly muffled by his mask, as he hoisted a pick-head axe onto his shoulder. "You point. I'll clear."
Vivian gripped the TIC with its screen flickering with life. She swept the camera slowly and meticulously across the remains of what looked like a reception area. The display was mostly black and white until it highlighted variations in heat. Pockets of red and orange glowed where hidden embers smoldered within collapsed drywall and twisted office furniture.
"Hotspot, twelve o'clock, behind that overturned desk," Vivian's voice crackled over their comms, but it was calm and steady as they worked.
Jones immediately moved through the debris with powerful, efficient swings of his axe. A shower of debris erupted and tumbled as he broke apart the smoldering materials which revealed a deeper, more intense glow. He then doused it with a controlled burst from a portable extinguisher, aiming at the base of where the smoke was rising.
They moved efficiently and methodically as trained in a race between search and suppression and the stability of the remaining structure. Vivian's eyes, amplified by the thermal lens, became their guide through the smoke-filled labyrinth. She identified a faint heat signature behind a collapsed section of a wall. "Jones, low, to your right. Looks like something behind the wall."
Jones knelt, tapping the wall with his axe. "Solid. Could be a void space." He started to pry, his muscles straining against the resistant material. As the plaster cracked and fell away, it revealed a small, insulated cavity. A faint, orange glow pulsed within. "Got it," Jones grunted, already moving to extinguish it.
Even after responding to countless calls, the scene of utter devastation still got to Vivian. Water-soaked ceiling tiles lay everywhere, forming treacherous obstacles. The air was heavy and humid with steam rising from hot surfaces meeting cold water. Every step crunched on fallen glass and charred debris.
They moved from area to area with their lights cutting through the lingering smoke. They were searching every corner and every overturned cabinet for any sign of life. A constant stream of communication was heard on the headsets, keeping the group connected and alert. In the background, the distant roar of the main fire attack was eerie.
"Clear here," Vivian stated into her mask headset after they swept what appeared to be a supervisor's on-site office, its once-plush carpets now waterlogged and black. "Moving to the next section."
They continued their systematic search as Vivian scanned with the thermal camera and Jones attacked any residual fires. Their focus was absolute and their movements precise. Their efficiency was a testament to countless hours of training and preparation for moments just like these.
That's when it started.
It was low, at first. So low that she thought it was the sound of something outside or even something still managing to run in all of the wreckage. But as it grew louder, Vivian realized that she heard the buzzing sound she had experienced on her run several days ago, followed by a feeling of vertigo and a view of only blurriness.
She steadied herself, hoping Jones hadn't noticed—all the while thinking: Damn it, Ben was right. I just had to go and jinx it. Worst. Timing. Ever.
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SWITCH
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The blurriness of her vision slowly cleared as she saw a familiar face protectively holding her against the wall of a small alley. Her eyes fluttered as she adjusted to her surroundings and quietly whispered, "Prince Callum?"
Callum looked intently at her face, and said the word 'green' to himself. "It's you, isn't it Vivian? You're back again?"
Vivian nodded—in Ally's body.