One block…
I round the corner, and the world ends.
Sunset Manor is an inferno.
Flames pour from the windows like liquid fire, reaching up into the night sky with greedy fingers. The entire west wing is engulfed, and the fire is spreading, crawling across the roof, eating through walls, devouring everything in its path. The heat hits me even from here, a physical barrier that makes my skin prickle.
Emergency vehicles are everywhere. Fire trucks, ambulances, police cars, all of them with lights spinning, painting the scene inhellish reds and blues. Firefighters are shouting, dragging hoses, working with desperate efficiency.
But it’s not enough.
It’s not fast enough.
People are scattered across the parking lot and lawn. Residents in nightgowns and robes, wrapped in blankets, coughing, crying. Paramedics move between them, checking vitals, administering oxygen. I scan the crowd frantically, searching for white hair, for that tiny frame, for any sign of her.
Nothing.
Terror claws up my throat.
I don’t turn off my bike.
Don’t even think about it.
I’m off and running before it’s fully stopped, the engine still rumbling as it tips sideways onto the concrete.
I don’t hear it fall.
I don’t fucking care.
“QUEENIE!”Her name rips out of me, loud enough to hurt.“QUEENIE!”
A paramedic tries to stop me. “Sir, you need to stay back.”
I shove past him. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough that he stumbles. I scan faces, counting heads, running calculations that all end in the same horrifying conclusion.
She’s not here.
She’s still inside.
“No, no,no,NO!”My legs are moving again, carrying me toward the building. Toward the flames.“Queenie!”
“Sir…” A firefighter appears in front of me, hands up. “You can’t go in there!”
“My grandmother is inside.”
“We’re doing everything we can—”
“It’s notenough!”The words come out half roar, half sob. “She’s on the second floor, east wing, room 214. I have to—”
“You’ll die if you go in there.” His voice is firm but not unkind. He’s probably had this conversation before and probably lost count of how many desperate family members he’s had to restrain. “The structure is unstable. The smoke alone will kill you before you—”
“I don’t give a fuck!”
I’m not listening anymore.
I can’t listen.
There’s only one voice in my head, and it’s Queenie’s.
