Wednesday Words: I’ve Been Framed

wurkn-on-mai-plan-for-word-domination-caleb-pupHere it is Wednesday again and time to play #1lineWed. Today’s theme: **FRAME or EDGE** Oh, the possibilities! The twists and turns. The detours and deviations. Today, I’m truly tossing out something from my WIP–unedited, raw, pretty much the way it came out of my brain. I’m just lucky what I wrote yesterday matched today’s theme. So, this is from CRASH & BURN, my January release in Paige Tyler’s Dallas Fire & Rescue Kindle World. The hero isn’t around for this scene. It’s all about Katherine “Kit” Carson, who is newly transferred from the regular FD and Station 58 to Dallas/Ft. Worth International Airport as an ARFF (Airport Rescue Firefighter). The rest is pretty much self-explanatory…

“Drive,” Dan ordered, stabbing at a button on the two-way radio. The dispatcher’s voice crackled with instructions. “You’ll come out on the south end of runway thirty-one left. Take the first taxiway toward the terminal then make a left onto the first LAHSO.

Lasso? What the heck? Then Kit’s memory kicked in. Not lasso but LAHSO—the acronym for Land and Hold Short Operations. This was sort of an extra runway but with no take-offs or landings allowed.

“Be sure to dodge any planes and stay out of the jet wash.”

Yeah, easy for him to say. The emergency lights were flashing and the vehicle’s siren activated but how could anyone hear it over the roar of jet engines? The column of smoke at the north end of the airport squatted like an ominous storm cloud. This was going down as the worst first day on the job ever.

Her brain fragmented—one part concentrating on driving, one part listening to the radio for updates—Stations Six, Two and Three were already on scene setting up command and operations. Chief Landon was en route from Station One. And Dispatch had acknowledged her as Recovery Command. And that’s where the biggest portion of her brain was hurtling on a hamster wheel of panic.

Kit’s job didn’t entail firefighting, nor was it rescue—provided there were any survivors. The first ARFFs to arrive had those challenges. Her whole reason for being on scene was to deal with the evidence—even if that evidence had once been alive. But this was a cargo plane, according to Dispatch. Her mandate was to locate the outer edge of the crash scene, document it, and then work into the interior, identifying and marking any remains and photographing them, along with any debris from the plane. By the time she was done, she would have taken thousands of photographs that would document the crash site and give investigators a frame of reference.

She’d practiced on table-top and computer simulations, and at live-training exercises where a bunch of volunteers got smeared with fake blood and tags listing their injuries. This wasn’t that. As she pulled up at the scene and saw the debris scattered across the field, she understood. No let’s-pretend drill would ever come close to the real thing.
So…are you standing on the edge or framing anything in your current WIP? Share! And if you’re just a reader, I need to know…is this scene like totally boring?

About Silver James

I like walks on the wild side and coffee. Lots of coffee. Warning: My Muse runs with scissors. Author of several award-winning series--Moonstruck, Nightriders MC, The Penumbra Papers, and Red Dirt Royalty (Harlequin Desire) & other books! Purveyor of magic, mystery, mayhem and romance. Lots and lots of romance.
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4 Responses to Wednesday Words: I’ve Been Framed

  1. Nope. Not boring. To me, at least.

    Here’s a bit from Wish Hits the Fan… not long before I stopped writing and now can’t find my way, so I’m not sure if this is actually living up to the P in WIP. LOL

    Having done all I could for the Efreet’s human victim, I wasted some more energy and wished myself to the docks. Standing on the edge of the water, looking down at a mound of floating crap, I shouted Natalia’s name. Nothing. I shouted again. I thought I heard a frog, but that was it. Drawing more than a lungful of air, I prepped to call her again.
    “You’re going to pop something if you keep yelling like that, you know.”
    I turned to face a thirty-something woman in a sharp business suit. Her long, curly hair in varying shades of red wafted around her on a breeze I didn’t feel.
    “You clean up good,” I told Natalia. Considering it had only been hours since I last saw her and the last time I laid eyes on her, she was dirty, bruised, and skinny, downing food to fill in the gaps of the weeks she’d been held prisoner, the change was amazing.
    “A little water does wonders for a gal.”
    “Must be hell on your dry-cleaning bills, though.”
    She let out a laugh that sounded more like a seagull than a human woman. “If you think I bother actually wearing clothing, you’re not nearly as smart as I assumed.” She waved her hand and she stood naked before me. Another wave and she was wearing a summery dress.
    I laughed despite myself. Natalia was one scary bitch when she wanted to be, but she was a gal I could probably throw back a few drinks with, too.
    “So, you bellowed?”

  2. Deborah Calvert says:

    Oh my, I kept scrolling down looking for more. Please don’t make me wait too long. That was awesome.

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