Report From Rescue Company 1

by BRBrony9

Poneway Beach

The staging area was a confusing mess of vehicles; Engines, Ladders, Chiefs' SUVs, ambulances. There were vehicles from the Parks Department, Pone-Gen gas and electric, the city Office of Emergency Management, the police department, and half a dozen other organisations. One could only hope that the staging area officer could keep track of everything. Water sat a good few inches in depth across the entire roadway, and the parking lot which had also been co-opted as part of the operation.

The sky ahead was burning. Flames leaped high into the air, being blown inland by the hurricane force winds coming on off of the sea. It was scant wonder the fire had spread with such an energetic assist being given by Gilda. The wooden houses of Poneway Beach, even though they were soaked with water and flooded by the sea, still took fire and burned when the blowtorch-like flames reached them. Where the fire had started was impossible to determine. Perhaps investigators might find the cause in the weeks ahead, or perhaps it would be a mystery known only to the waves that now lapped through the neighbourhood. Either way, there was almost no prospect of fighting the blaze at all. Fireboats would be able to pump huge volumes of water through their many nozzles and onto the spreading inferno, but the sea was too rough to risk even the big boats and their crews. Reaching Poneway Beach by water would require them to leave the relative shelter of Manehattan Bay, the natural harbour formed by Hooflyn, Stallion Island and Manehattan borough at the north end, and with the waters raging, even the big fireboats would have been unable to hold station well enough to accurately attack the fire, nor would they be able to get in close enough to the beach due to the shallowness of the sea as it reached the land- although the raised sea level from the storm's low pressure system might conceivably have permitted it on this night.

With an uncontrollable fire, it raised the question of why so many fire units had been committed to the area. If there was nothing they could do, why were they there? But the protection of property was only the secondary duty of the Manehattan Fire Department. The primary duty was the protection of life, and that was exactly why they were there. Despite repeated warnings on the TV, radio, newspapers and internet, many residents of the neighbourhood had refused to leave. They had experienced many winter storms like this before, and had never been forced to leave. Some had never been flooded out, and others simply did not want to leave their homes unattended, for looters to rifle through and for minor damage to go uncorrected and potentially lead to bigger, unnecessary problems. This time wouldn't be any different, right?

Except it was different, for the entire neighbourhood was underwater, and that had never happened before in living memory. Localised flooding of the streets right on the waterfront was expected and planned for- houses built there tended to be raised up, either on stilts or on some other kind of deck, to keep them clear of potential floods. But Gilda was the strongest storm to hit the city, certainly since records began, and conditions were worse than many residents had planned for, leaving them stranded, cut off completely from the rest of the city. The phone lines were down, and there was no internet or cellphone service thanks to storm damage. There was not even a clear way of getting into the area from the landward side thanks to the floods. Those creatures that could not fly were dependent now on the emergency services to save their lives, for the flooding was only predicted to get worse, and what was more, the fires were continuing to spread through the community.

The crew of Engine 25 climbed down from their rig and awaited orders. Coppertop went in search of the staging area manager for instructions, while Ember Dawn lowered his visor to shield his face from the stinging rain. It had little effect, even when sheltering in the lee of the Engine. The wind continued to rock the vehicle. He took a look around, and beyond the cacophony of light from the emergency vehicles, he could see that all was darkness. The lights were out in Poneway Beach, hardly a surprise. They were out across much of the borough, too, as they had seen during their response down through Hooflyn. That meant that much of the flooded area was lit only by the glow from the fires burning nearby.

Coppertop returned to the crew. 'Alright! Listen up. Apparently we have anywhere up to two hundred ponies trapped out in the flooded area. There are fires burning all around there, too. Water levels are still rising. They've been conducting rescue operations here for a couple of hours already, but there are still ponies trapped. To make matters worse, it's too wet for Pegasi to fly,' he explained. If Pegasi wings got too wet, their feathers would become waterlogged, making them unable to generate the lift required to keep a Pegasus in the air. With rain, spray and floodwater in abundance, it was hardly a surprise that air operations would have to be curtailed at a scene like this.

'What are we doing, Lieu?' Dark Flash asked. 'We don't have a boat.'

'We don't, but Ladder 140 does,' Coppertop replied. 'We're helping them out, but we only carry two dry suits.' While rescue operations were normally carried out by Ladder Companies, certain Engine Companies which covered coastal or riverside areas did have a supply of water rescue gear just in case. Engine 25 covered the West River in Midtown Manehattan, and so they had the special gear needed- but only for two ponies. 'Dawn, Striker, pair up. The rest of you, help them get into the suits,' Coppertop ordered. The crew got to work. Ember Dawn had not worn the bulky dry suit since training, but apart from requiring assistance to get on, it did not need any special training to use.

'The dynamic duo, huh?' Striker commented with a grin. The black Pegasus was always confident, and clearly had a firm grasp on all the fundamentals of firepony work. He had got along well with Dawn since he first joined the company, and Dawn looked at him both as a friend and a mentor, in a way that a superior, even an understanding, fair and honest one like Lieutenant Coppertop or Chief Firebrand, could never quite elicit from a probie. He was the guiding hoof, trying to instill the benefits of his experience at innumerable fires into the raw recruit, something that was vital not only for the new arrival's protection, but for the rest of the company too. A firepony had to learn constantly. Every new call taught something, however minor, which had been overlooked, ignored or forgotten, or simply something that was entirely fresh, a novel challenge never faced before. The more calls a pony responded to, the more little hints and tricks they learned; when a building fire was about to flash over, the telltale signs of an imminent collapse, likely hiding places of foals in a fire such as under the bed or even inside a drawer. A new firepony lacked the insight and the sixth sense that a veteran had, picking up on the small clues. That was why it was important to continuously teach them and guide them, and that was the role Striker now had with Dawn. Whether he had taken it upon himself or been detailed to do so by Coppertop, Dawn did not know, but he was glad every time he was paired up with Striker.

'Wasn't really planning on a water rescue tonight, you know?' Dawn answered Striker's call, as Deep Blue zipped up his dry suit.

'Yeah, well, you gotta be ready for anything in this game,' Striker replied. 'All kinds of shit can go down. You already know that even though you haven't been with us for long. There's nothing to it, really. We just walk the boat through the water until we get to a victim, load them up, check them over, boom, we turn around, back to the land. Simple.'

Dawn glanced at the inferno lighting up the sky to the west. 'Yeah, simple...'

Once they were ready, Coppertop escorted the pair to the scene of the incident, while Deep Blue and Dark Flash prepared the medical gear in case they were called to treat a victim. At the water's edge- a relative term given that the whole area was under at least a little flooding- they found an intensive rescue operation underway. The Rescues and Tactical Support Units carried proper boats, inflatable dinghies with outboard motors which could carry half a dozen ponies in addition to rescuers, and Rescue 2 and TSU 2 were on scene and busily plying their life-saving trade, with families of hunched-up ponies wrapped miserably in blankets taking the ride to safety. Other fireponies pulled them from the boats, which turned and headed out again to make another trip. Several of the Ladder Companies had also deployed their own boats, much smaller craft and lacking propulsion of their own. They could either be pulled along by fireponies in dry suits, or rowed with oars. Both methods were in operation as the fire department struggled to rescue everypony who was still trapped in the hellscape.

Flames whipped across the rooftops farther down the street. It was unlikely anypony could get through, and Dawn found himself hoping that the evacuation orders had been heeded by those families living down there. It looked like a good ten blocks were burning to some extent or another, such an incongruous and confusing sight among so much water. Yet it was real, for it was unfolding before his very eyes, the brightness of the flames searing his retina. He looked away. Ladder 140's rubber boat was ready for use, and they were to relieve its exhausted crew, two fireponies dressed in the same suits as they wore, fatigue evident on their faces as the two mares waded back onto relatively dry land, to be replaced by the two stallions who would take over their task.

After consultation with the Captain of Ladder 140, Coppertop approached them. 'Ok boys. You're going three blocks down, then one block to the left. The address is 351-02 Poneway Beach Boulevard, it'll be the brown three-story dwelling on the east corner. Apparently there's a family in there who need evac.'

'Got it, Lieu,' Striker nodded. 'We'll get them out.'

'Be careful out there,' Coppertop cautioned. 'It's too far out for a safety line, so tread carefully. Apparently the flooding isn't too bad there. It's shallow enough to walk through, but you'll be up to your withers in it, so take it slow and steady. There's not much accountability of personnel in this kind of scene, so the safety officer might not be able to see your fuckups, but he won't be there to send a mayday on your behalf either.'

Dawn and Striker nodded. The fire department put a high emphasis on personnel safety. Too many fireponies had died in preventable accidents and through negligence in the past century, and it was only relatively recently that they had adopted a more rigid code of safety, appointing dedicated Safety Officers at every major incident, as well as the Safety Battalion, a Chief who would respond to serious fires or operations with the sole duty of making sure other fireponies were operating safely, and getting them out alive if something went wrong. If the HOOF Truck- the Helpers of Other Fireponies unit- was called into action to rescue a fellow member of the department, they would usually be overseen by the Safety Battalion whenever he or she was on the scene. This incident, however, stretched over many blocks, in almost total darkness in many places, and in deep floodwater. There was nothing truly safe about it, and fireponies simply had to operate as best they could, taking care of one another, because they had no choice. Civilians would die if they did nothing.

Striker and Dawn grabbed hold of the boat and waded out into the frigid seawater. it rose higher and higher until it was almost up to their necks, but their hooves were on the tarmac of the road beneath them. They were able to make forward progress, their breath fogging in the air. They could feel the action of the water. This was, after all, the sea they were walking through, and the currents and tides were still causing plenty of movement. They were surrounded by the slap of water splashing against the sides of buildings.

The front of the boat had a light mounted on it. The dry suit was not compatible with a helmet, and so they lacked their own personal flashlights. Several other boats were around them, making journeys farther into the flooded neighbourhood. One was being rowed back with a disheveled family on board, two older mares who may have been the mothers or sisters, and a trio of young foals, shivering in the cold air. It was better than the alternative which backlit them, however. The fires were still burning freely, and would surely rely on mother nature to be extinguished now.

'I don't care how effective they say these suits are,' Striker commented. 'I still say this water is fucking cold as hell.'

Dawn had to laugh. 'Yeah...hey, this is our turning, right?' They had reached the junction, and together they maneuvered the boat around. It was one block south, now. Rain lashed against their faces, the only part of their bodies still exposed above the water.

'Hey, if it gets any deeper we're gonna have to turn back,' Striker pointed out.

'The Lieutenant said it should be ok. I guess Ladder 140 made it out this far once already?' Dawn replied.

'Yeah, but this water is rising,' Striker added. 'This might be the last run anypony can make down here by hoof.'

They reached the next junction. Everything was dark except for the cone of light provided by the boat's lamp. To their right was a brown, three-story building, as anticipated. 'This is the spot,' Striker nodded in its direction. 'Fire Department, call out!'

'Hey, we're up here!'

Dawn and Striker looked up. A unicorn stallion, an earth pony mare, and a young unicorn colt were huddled at the second-floor window, waving down at them. 'What happened to those mares?' the father asked. 'They said they'd be back for us!'

'We were told to relieve them,' Striker called in reply. 'Their officer decided they were too exhausted to go on. It's just the three of you?'

'Yeah, just me and my wife and my son,' the stallion shouted. 'How do we get down to you? The first floor is flooded!'

Striker glanced at Dawn. 'Huh...any ideas?'

'Not really...' Dawn frowned, looking around. The boat had no equipment, no ladders or ropes which might help.

'Don't worry, you just hang tight there for a minute, ok?' Striker called up to the stranded family.

'Uh, sure...' the father nodded.

'I guess they're just gonna have to jump down,' Dawn pointed out. 'Unless they can get down the stairs and then wade through the water.'

'Maybe we can get the boat inside...' Striker mused. 'Hey, sir? Is the first floor flooded all the way to the top, or is there space where we can get inside? If we can get the boat to the bottom of the stairs then you can climb right on in.'

'Last time I checked there was space, yeah,' the father replied. 'Let me take a look real quick!' He disappeared from the window, returning a minute later. 'I think you can bring the boat up to the stairs just fine!'

'Alright. Meet us there,' Striker ordered. 'Let's go.' Together the two fireponies pushed the boat to the front door of the building. It was intact, but had buckled somewhat under the pressure of the water. A couple of heavy blows from Striker's shoulder saw it give way and slowly open. They dragged the boat inside. The family had moved to the top of the stairs, where they crouched with a flashlight, helping to guide the fireponies.

'Your chariot awaits!' Striker grinned. 'Come on down. Nice and slow now. One at a time. We'll help you.' The mother went down first, clambering into the boat, before her son followed. She helped him climb in, and the father came last. Dawn heaved him in, and then they pushed off, backing out into the street. The family huddled down in a vain attempt to shelter from the rain as it pattered down upon them. Dawn and Striker whisked them back to their launching point as fast as they could. Hypothermia could be a certain menace, whether or not the ponies had got wet. The air was cold enough by itself.

Once they arrived, Dark Flash and Deep Blue helped the family out of the boat and to the relative safety of the medical treatment area, where numerous ambulances and Hooflyn's MERV- Major Emergency Response Vehicle- awaited, for shelter from the storm and a hot drink. Striker and Dawn, however, had more to do. The night was long, and it was not yet over. Gilda was far from spent.