As Manny whips around a corner at a dangerous speed, I make a deal with whomever’s in charge up there. Let Bethany be okay, and I promise to let her into my heart and into my life — if she will do me the honor. Or, to put it less like a greeting card, I’ll stop being such a coward when it comes to love.
I promise. Just let her be okay.
Please.
Manny skillfully pulls up to the curb outside the downtown office building. There’s smoke pouring out of the third-floor window. It’s good the fire’s on a lower floor — it’s a shorter climb.
Never mind. I take it back. It’s not good. Not based on the expression on Jax’s face at least, as he looks up at the smoking building. My lieutenant looks like someone just snatched his soul right out of his body.
He turns to me. “That’s Bethany’s floor.” His voice is weak and tremulous, flattened by sheer terror.
I don’t say anything in response. I just move. Everything is instinct right now.
I get to the building first, and I don’t turn around to see what the other guys are doing. I’ll let them sweep each floor to check for any lingering civilians, and to make sure we won’t be trapped by a wall of flames on our way out. That’s a surprise no one likes.
It’s normally not protocol to splinter off from the group and play the hero. But to hell with protocol. I’m going straight to the third floor. I charge up the stairs like a mad bull.
No matter how mean the flames are, no matter how bad that initial blast of heat feels, I’m not going to let it slow me down. Not one bit.
When I breach the doors to the firm’s third-floor offices, it’s not just the heat that strikes me, but the smell.
Acrid, metallic, toxic.
Like a science experiment gone horribly wrong.
Great. A chemical fire. No wonder the sprinklers are useless. They’re about as good against this brand of blaze as a humidifier. If Bethany’s in here — or any other poor soul — I have to find them fast.
I step into the nightmarish scene and flames immediately lunge toward me like snarling wolves, hungry for the fresh oxygen I’ve let in. It’s loud as hell in here. Manmade objects are popping and cracking as they yield to the flames’ all-consuming wrath.
“Bethany!”
My voice sounds like a child’s at the bottom of the well, muffled by my mask and the roar of the conflagration, a chorus of destruction resounding from all sides.
“Bethany! Are you in here!?”
For a second, I think I’m hearing the delayed echo of my own voice.
But no. It’s Jax. He searches the offices like a mad man, ignorant of the flames around him.
This fire is one nasty beast. One of the angriest blazes I’ve ever seen.
But I won’t leave this place until I’m absolutely sure Bethany’s not in here.
I move from one burning cubicle to the next, checking if anyone passed out under the desks. A roof tile falls on my arm and sets it on fire. I quickly put it out and continue my search. It’s unbearably hot in here. We have to move fast.
12
Bethany
Like most people,I didn’t really understand the raw power of fire before being caught in one.
I assumed if I were ever in a burning building, I’d just hold my breath and run through the walls of flames until I got to safety. It’s like how you can pass your finger quickly through a lighter’s flame without burning yourself.
Except, it’s not like that at all.
The flames surrounding me right now are not the kind you can just pass through. They are more solid than any walls I’ve ever encountered. I tried getting close to one, and the sheer heat coming off pushed me back. Like opening an oven and being taken aback by the sudden wave of hot air. Like that, times a million.
I know getting too close to this flame means turning your body into a human shish kebob.
