Fire.
Oh my god, the building’s on fire!
I look up at the sprinklers in the ceiling. Why aren’t they spraying water? The building’s fire suppression system went off accidentally once and everything was drenched, why aren’t they working?
Maury’s terrified gaze finally meets mine and he frantically waves his arms. “Fire! Scarlettrun!Get out!”
Murder Mitten’s anxious yowls are adding to my panic and I shove her down in the backpack, hurrying for the door.
Wait. What am I supposed to do? Touch the door and see if it’s hot? I’m not supposed to open it if it’s hot, right? Pulling my t-shirt up over my nose and mouth, I touch the wood.
Warm, not hot. Opening it, I shriek through my hand and the cotton covering my mouth. There’s aspearof fire shooting down the hall and as I open the door, it races for me, greedy fingers reaching out-
Slamming the door shut, I race for the attached bathroom, the “Executive Bathroom” Marlena is always so proud of that the Executive-
“Focus!” I’m screaming at myself but there’s aterrified yowl of agreement from the backpack. “Towels. Block the smoke.”
Grabbing an armload of aubergine-colored towels, I hurry back and stuff them against the crack under the door. There’s already smoke in the office, hovering under the ceiling like a malevolent cloud.
“The windows! Oh, god the windows don’t open,” I sob. “Break one. I can do that. It’s two stories. We can survive that, Murder Mittens. Just two…”
She can’t survive that, she’s just a cat, but I can figure something out. The heaviest chair is placed in front of the desk. Lower than Marlena’s office chair to make her visitor feel like they’re less.
“Hang on, kitty, we’re getting out of here.” Gritting my teeth, I lift the chair and heave it with all my strength against the window behind the desk.
It bounces off the iron frame with a thud and nearly knocks me over.
“You have got to be kidding me!”
My eyes are wet, tears running down my face from the smoke and the t-shirt’s not doing much. Murder Mittens! How long can her little kitty lungs function?
There’s a crack in the window, not big but it’s there. Using Marlena’s lighter, ergonomic chair Islam at it again, and again. “How thick is this glass! Why is this-”
Stop talking. Think.
Smashing the chair at the window again, I break off the back of the seat, cutting my hand but there’s a hole, a thick piece of glass falling from the infuriatingly sturdy iron frame. Those window frames, they’re strong, they were built when this place was a warehouse, they don’t want to let me out.
Maury’s down there, he’s backed away from the building halfway into the parking lot. He’s on the phone, screaming something as he looks up at me.
Hitting the window again, I watch cracks spiderweb across the surface. Over Murder Mitten’s frantic yowling, I hear something else, hissing, a violent cracking, sounding as if someone’s spine snapped in half, then groaning like the steel beams are bending, collapsing against the weight of the destruction.
Pulling my kitty, my best friend out of the backpack, I kick out a chunk of glass and lean out as far as I can. It’s not big enough for me, a broken edge is cutting into my shoulder. I kiss Murder Mitten’s little face and hold her out the window.
“You can land on your paws, my baby. I know you, you can. There are bushes below us-” Istifle a scream as the bushes flare up, angry yellow sparks shooting through the branches like popcorn.
The bathroom -ExecutiveBathroom - door slams open and a man races into the room. Behind him, there’s a huge hole where there used to be a wall and the fire is following him. He kicks the bathroom door shut. There’s a groan, an ominous creaking noise and the office door is bulging oddly, like the wood is trying to find some other shape.
“We’re going out this window- Listen to me!” The man shakes me hard.
“I’m listening!” I scream back, coughing uncontrollably. I can’t see his face through the smoke. He pulls Murder Mittens from my arms and tucks her into his jacket.
“That door’s about to disintegrate and the fire will explode through,” he shouts, kicking the rest of the glass from two other frames, then slamming his boot again and again against the stubborn iron. “We are going to jump. I can’t lower you in time. Relax, try to land on your feet, protect your head.” That iron frame finally bends and cracks under his boot and he wedges us into the opening.
I could never explain it properly, afterward, the sound. No matter how many ways I tried.
It’s a deep sucking roar, like a giant filling his lungs until his chest explodes outward. The door evaporates and the spear of fire searching for me from before shoots into the room. Then feeling like I’ve been kicked in the chest as we fly backward out the hole the man had made.
I’m weightless, flying. Sparks stream past, chasing me.
