We leapt off the couch and headed toward the rig.
Iris was at the wheel today, and we were soon racing toward a warehouse fire in the business district.
I tried to push aside the question of how many more fires we were going to see as we pulled up to the massive blaze.
“Goddamnit.” Miriam cursed as we unloaded.
“Let’s get the hoses—”
Seth ran over, waving his arms. As frantic as I’d ever seen him. “There’s a woman unaccounted for. She works in the back office.”
My heart rate kicked up. “Any chance she got out and wandered away?” Stuff like that happened.
“No. Her car’s still in the lot and no one has seen her. The back’s not on fire yet. I can’t get the door open.”
That he was even trying spoke to his both dedication and stupidity.
“We’ve got the hoses.” Iris joined Miriam, Toby, and several others.
“Marlon, you’re with me.” I gestured.
He didn’t complain—but he didn’t hustle either.
I grabbed the axe, and we headed around to the back. As Seth said, the back half wasn’t engulfed yet—but that was coming.
On instinct, I tried the door.
Nope. Locked.
Grateful the door was wood, I took a few really good swings and was able to pop the lock. So many things could’ve gone sideways by this point—and so many still could. But I had faith we were going to be okay.
Thick, black smoke billowed out as the air provided fuel to the fire. Still, I had to try. I felt my way around until I came to the first closed door. I pushed it open.
Empty office.
I moved to the next door, labeled washroom.
More smoke and the noise from the fire was growing louder and louder.
This door didn’t open as easily, and quickly it became apparent why—someone was lying against the door.
I dropped to my hands and knees and then tried to push the door with my shoulder.
The body shifted. Whoever they might be—they’d be damn sore tomorrow. If they weren’t already dead.
After a couple of really good shoves, I managed to dislodge her enough to maneuver her out. Her dress caught in the door, and I clumsily ripped at the fabric.
Smoke continued to surround me.
Have to get her out. Have to get out. Have to survive.
Marlon gestured that he’d take her.
Between the two of us, we secured her over his shoulder.
He was halfway to the door—with me just a step behind—when a loud explosion sounded.
The whoosh of air knocked me down.
