Free Fireproof by Alex Kendrick Page A

misses, there were some things better kept between the guys. Among firefighters, it was the bond of the brotherhood. Caleb nodded, clapped a hand around his friend’s arm, and left him to his thoughts.
    BACK AT STATION One, the firemen climbed down from the trucks, shucking suspenders and heavy firefighting gear. Caleb battened down a loose hatch on the truck. Around the corner, Eric and Simmons were stepping out of their brush pants and boots. Despite the air of relief, there was palpable concern in the ranks. They could’ve lost a teenage girl. Or even lost one of their very own.
    â€œHey, Lieutenant?” Eric said.
    Simmons looked up. “Yeah?”
    â€œThis kinda thing doesn’t happen all the time, does it?”
    â€œRisking our lives? Yes. Playing chicken with a train? First time.”
    â€œAren’t you afraid of dying?”
    Terrell was peeling off his jacket and he caught Caleb’s eye. They both turned toward their comrade to hear his response.
    â€œNo,” Simmons said, “’cause I know where I’m going. I just don’t want to get there ’cause I got hit by a train.”He grabbed his commemorative helmet and headed toward the doors at the back of the garage. “Eric, why don’t you come help me work on some dinner.”
    â€œLong as you don’t make me eat that hot sauce of yours.”
    â€œThe Wrath of God?”
    â€œStuff’s hot as—”
    â€œHey, now.”
    The two men brushed by the fire pole on their way out, and Caleb grinned at their repartee. He moved to follow them out of the bay, intending to write up a fire report before grabbing some food.
    â€œHey, Cap’n.” Terrell stopped him. “Hold up for a second.”
    Caleb paused.
    â€œYou, uh . . . you know where you’re going?”
    â€œI’m going to my office,” Caleb said.
    â€œNo, I mean . . .” Terrell fidgeted. “You believe in heaven and hell?”
    â€œI . . . I don’t know.”
    Wayne climbed down from the truck beside them.
    â€œWell, when I die,” Terrell said, “I’m going in the ground, and that’s where I’m stayin’.”
    Caleb shrugged. “You know, you and Michael both seem so sure. But one of you is wrong.”
    Terrell sloughed that off. “It ain’t me.”
    â€œHow do you know? Hey, listen, you might not agree with Michael, but you and I both know . . . he’s the real deal.” Caleb turned toward the back of the bay as Terrell folded his arms across his wide belly.
    â€œWhat about you,Wayne?” Terrell said.
    â€œDon’t drag me into this.”
    â€œMan, you believe in heaven and hell?”
    â€œMaybe,”Wayne confessed. “I’m open to the possibility.”
    â€œI’m not.”
    â€œYeah, we know.”
    â€œWell, what if y’all are wrong and it’s all a big joke?”
    â€œThen,” Wayne said, loud enough for Caleb to catch it, “I guess I’ll be stuck lying in the ground next to your sorry bones. And who says the dead can’t dance?”
    â€œYou kiddin’? You’re alive ,Wayne, and you still can’t dance.”
    THREE DAYS LATER, following a weekend that included softball games and birthday parties, Lieutenant Simmons walked back into the fire station. He was early, by twenty minutes. This gave him time to enjoy relaxing on a kitchen stool with the morning’s Albany Herald spread out on the counter.
    To his left, a CPR poster hung from the wall. To his right, a list of janitorial duties was taped to a cupboard. Everywhere he was faced with the job’s requirements, and he took them seriously.
    During his two-year tour north of Baghdad, as an Army tank mechanic, he’d witnessed the daily struggle between life and death, between freedom and captivity. It was hard coming back to a complacent culture after seeing the things he’d seen. He felt, sometimes, as