“What? No!”
“I can promise you I’m faster.”
I don’t wait for my Vita—mi vida—to argue. My life is nothing if I lose her. I’ve saved mypapá’s,tíos’,andprimos’lives more times than I ever should have needed to. I would run into that fire for them without reservation. But the drive to keep Vita alive and unharmed is like I’ve been possessed.
I sprint to the doorway, pulling my shirt untucked to cover my mouth and nose. I wish I hadn’t left my suit coat at mytío’shouse. I get to the doors, and ash already billows in the air. Between that and the heat, my eyes sting like someone poured bleach into them.
I focus on the colors of the flames and which ways they move. I’m no pyro, but fire fascinates me. It’s a living, breathing thing with a mind of its own. But if you watch closely, it’ll tell you what it’s thinking.
There’s no way Vita and I will escape unscathed, but I see a path. We just have to take it now. There’s no chance to free Cosima.
“Vita! Come!”
She’s been watching me. She doesn’t shift her focus, not even for a moment. She doesn’t give hertíaa second glance. She bolts to me, the phone still in her hand. I hear her mother’s screams as she approaches.
“End the call,chica.”
“No!”
Both women scream at me, but I ignore them. I pluck the phone from her hand and end the call. The betrayal on Vita’s face breaks my heart.
“Do you want your mother to watch?”
Vita inhales a shuddering breath as she shakes her head. She knows I mean if we get trapped in this furnace and die where we fall.
“Tuck your hair into your shirt and pull up as much as you can to cover your face without exposing all of your torso.”
Once she’s done that, I wrap my arm around her shoulders and press down until we’re as close to the floor as we can get without waddling. I scan the area, knowing our path has already changed in just the couple moments it took Vita to get to me. I guide her, and she never hesitates, switching course when we have to. I slide my arm down to her waist, covering the exposed skin at her lower back as best I can. I slap at embers that keep attaching to my trousers.
“Jandro!”
She grabs my shirt in the front and back, tugging me as hard as she can. I barely avoid the chunk of ceiling that lands where I was standing only a second ago. It catches my right trouser leg on fire. I smack at flames, but I only burn my hand. There’s not enough room for me to stop, drop, and roll. My leg hurts, but we have no choice. We have to press on.
“Alej—”
Vita splutters too much to speak. I pull her along with me as I hobble. Fortunately, the rest of me doesn’t catch on fire. Small moth-bite-like holes form in the material, and the heat singes some hair on my leg, but it doesn’t travel higher.
Welp. There goes my perfection.
I’ll definitely have scars that won’t add to my manly intrigue. These random and ridiculous thoughts sustain me. I can’t lose my shit. I don’t have that luxury if I want Vita and me to survive. I pull her in front of me and shield her with my body when the path gets too narrow for us to walk side by side.
“Daddy!”
“Keep going,chica.”
The pain’s making me lightheaded, and dark spots dance around the edges of my vision. My lungs feel like they’re burning as badly as my legs. My shirt’s doing nothing to protect me fromthe soot. I stumble, and fortunately, Vita keeps me upright. With each step, I’m leaning on her more until I fear my weight will knock her to the floor and crush her.
“Stay with me, Daddy. We’re almost there. Come on.”
A jagged piece of metal catches my cheek, nearly slicing and burning it. I push my left arm up and knock it away, singeing that arm while I’m at it. Everywhere hurts. My body screams for me to stop, to rest, to just let go. But then I feel Vita moving in front of me. If I give up and give in, then there’s no one to protect her. I swore I would. I’ll protect her from the grave if I have to.
We make it outside, and she practically drags me away from the building. We’re coughing as we sink to our knees. When she looks at me, I can tell it’s tears filling her eyes, not just them watering from the heat and polluted air. She dives at me and pushes me onto my stomach, whooshing the little air in my lungs out through my mouth. She lifts my shirt, and the cooler night air only makes it worse.
“Fuck, Jandro. I need to get you to a hospital now.”
“Just home. Our doc can?—”
“No! You need a burn unit.”
