Fuck this.
I run straight into the fire and through the front door. Smoke fills the room, but I see her.
“Levi!” She coughs.
“I’m here, baby. I got you,” I tell her, assessing the scene.
Debris from the ceiling has fallen on top of her, pinning her in place. I quickly move each piece with trembling hands, hoping, begging, praying that once the last of it is gone, she will be okay. There’s a bump on the top of her forehead and a small cut that’s bleeding, but nothing appears fatal. Pieces of debris and ashes are in her hair, and she appears disoriented, but I focus on moving every big piece until it’s safe to move her. The ceiling continues to collapse around us, reminding me that we’re running out of time. The sound of Christmas lights popping like popcorn kernels fills the air like a dark twisted joke, mocking me for ever believing we could be happy. Windows continue to blow out as the heat rises, but I keep lifting off pieces, determined to get us both out of here alive. Finally, I pull off the last piece from her and breathe a sigh of relief when underneath, there’s no visible injury.
“I love you so much,” she says, her voice coming out in short, uneven breaths from the smoke inhalation.
“I love you, baby,” I say, the echoes of my past threatening to paralyze me with the fear of losing her. “I’m getting us out of here.”
I lift her in my arms and head back toward the door as the flames reach closer and her coughs grow more incessant. Hope begins to fill me as I step with her out the door until our weight sends us through the boards of the porch. We fall through until my legs hit the ground, trapping me between the boards with no leverage to get out. Tris remains lifted in my arms but too weak to help herself, leaving us both helpless as the flames grow closer.
“Levi,” she coughs, her eyes glassy as she looks into mine.
Before I can yell, bodies come charging toward us through the smoke. Chief, Billy, and Mark, fully geared up, move quickly as Angela, Maria, and the rest of the Turtle Bay Fire Department battle the flames.
“I got her,” Chief says, like he knows that nothing else matters to me but her.
“Save her! She needs oxygen. Check her throat,” I yell as he lifts her from me and takes her toward the flashing red lights of the ambulance. Every possibility, everything that can still go wrong runs through my mind, making it hard to focus, but the relief that floods me as he takes her away from the fire, away from danger, makes me dizzy.
“Levi,” Billy yells. “Focus, man. We gotta get you out. Jump on three!”
“One.” Billy tucks his arm under my armpit.
“Two.” Mark does the same.
“Three.” I jump.
The guys pull me through the broken boards and help get me to safety. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I’m running toward Tris,who’s already hooked up to oxygen and on a stretcher being pulled into the back of the ambulance.
“Levi!” Chiefs voice calls out, demanding and full of power, unlike I’ve ever heard from him before, causing me to pause. “Oxygen!”
I nod.
“Tom!” I yell, searching for him.
“I got it, go!” he shouts, already behind the wheel of my truck with Ellie in the passenger seat.
I make a beeline for the ambulance, hopping in right before the EMT swings the door shut and we take off for the hospital. She checks me quickly, shining a light down my throat for soot or inflammation before clearing me and handing me my own oxygen mask.
Outside, the sirens wail, but here the sound is muffled. My heart is hammering in my ears. It’s almost too much, but the panic that used to swallow me is held at bay by my need to be strong for Tris, to stay present with her and not let my own feelings take over.
I reach for Tris’s hand, and her eyes blink open, slowly adjusting to the light.
“Levi?” Her voice is weak, but according to the vital signs monitor, her heart rate is strong, and her oxygen levels are rising.
“Levi?”
“We’re almost to the hospital, you’ll be okay.”
“Ellie?!” she gasps, trying to sit up, and I finally lose it.
My chest feels like it’s cracked wide open, and I choke on a sob. Tears stream down my face, and I lean my forehead against her stomach, tightening my grip on her hand.
“I’m so sorry,” she cries. “I tried to save her. She wouldn’t come out. I had to go in and grab her. I thought—”
