Pier Pressure

[Clarke Hudson]

The fire truck had sped past the bakery at roughly three in the morning. Which ordinarily Clarke would have never even noticed. However, she was awake trying to master these delicate French pastries that Avery had seen on a movie once and had shown excitement about trying. The whirring sound and lights was eerie against the otherwise calm dark night, and the soft Folklore album playing in the background. But that calm and peace was long over. Hours had passed, and it seemed like nearly half the town was aware of what was going on. Clarke was standing with her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee, trying to stay warm as the cold fog met the curiosity of the townspeople. The pier was mainly out of sight, not being able to see anything beyond the firetrucks and police cars. "Who would do such a thing? "Let's go get some blankets for everyone." "Clarke, dear, will you bring some pastries?" Clarke was snapped out of her attention pulling her toward the pier and looked over, giving a quick nod. "Of course/" she said, watching the pier again. It was enough that the pier's smoke was fading into the sky like so many of their lives did in this small town, but she knew Jack was a volunteer for the fire department, and she'd yet to be able to get a response from him on her phone. Phone. Clarke blinked, looking back down at her phone to see if Avery had messaged her. There was a chance that she'd been sleeping in having had so much work to do over the last few days. Clarke let out a breath, texting Avery the highlights...get down here, can you stop at the bakery and bring down as much as your petite frame can carry? The basics. "Ah shit, I was going to go fishing today." one of the elderly gentlemen stammered as he walked by, watching the flames. The fire itself was handled. At least, that is what she thought she remembered from science class. White smoke tended to mean that the fire was almost out. She clenched her hand tightly around her coffee as she watched a few paramedics tend to a firefighter who she could not quite see. Once his hat was taken off, she widened her eyes, dropping her coffee cup down to run over to Jackson, pushing her way past the local police as she forced way over to him. "It's just a cut, Clarke," he said, clearly knowing she would assert her annoying presence there before he looked up to meet her with tired eyes. 

[Jack Hudson]

Jack moved some of the fallen boards, doing his best to draw the hose from the firetruck so that it would aim more directly at the main source of the fire. He was thankful for the rising sun giving them more broad vision. When they were called for a fire at the pier, his immediate thought was that some teenagers had set trashcan fires again, or set off fireworks and it went wrong. This though... this was insane. Damn near the entire pier had already been destroyed, and they'd had to set up ladders to ensure all of them would be able to make it back safely. He didn't even know when he had gotten cut, but he assumed it was when he was moving some lumber that had metal bolts left undamaged sticking out of the sides. He radioed for help, seeing green velvet fabric tangled in one of the boards. Avery would probably have called it expensive, or at least, it looked expensive to Jack. Maybe Avery would think it was tacky. Jack pulled at the board, noting how much heavier it was. As it pulled up, he nearly stumbled back. Laying there in the rubble was his ex-fiance. She'd married a local police officer and had seemingly fallen into the perfect fairytale life. Jack yelled out for help again, pulling off more of the rubble as some of the other volunteers came to help. The chaos of moving burnt wood around her felt out of place next to how still and calm she was. Yet, the soot and ash was against her face, burns covering a large percentage of her arms and legs. In her entire life she had never looked that calm. Jack lost track of time, but at a certain point he looked up to realize that the police had begun to tape off what was accessible to the pier, and once there were others taking care of Christine, he looked down to see that his cut had effectively caused his own uniform to be coated in blood. He clenched his jaw, making his way back toward the stable section of the pier and heading toward the paramedics before Clarke made her way through all some of the lines. "It's just a cut, Clarke," he said, looking up at her with his blue eyes piercing through his soot covered face. "Are you okay? she insisted anyway. Jack waited a moment for the paramedic to go get supplies before he turned to Clarke, whispering. "There was a body..." he said, looking back over his shoulder. "Oh my god.... she said, but Jack shook his head quickly, waiting for her eyes to meet his. "It's Christine."