Page 71 of Burn Protocol

“Hola, pequeña. You are okay,” I raise my voice so that she can hear me over the noise. “We’ll get the door open, and then I’ll grab you, okay? Just stay still for now. Can you do that?”

She sits frozen in her seat. I doubt that she heard me, but the fear on her face is evident. Elena, look at her. She is terrified. Maya’s voice echoes through my head. Help her. Calm her. I quickly pull my mask aside to show the kid my face, just as a waft of smoke rolls over me. I feel it enter my lungs and burn in my throat. It automatically comes back up when I start coughing. With my back turned to the car, I slip my mask back on and inhale deeply. Fucking idiot! Why the hell did I have to think about her in this moment? That has never happened to me before. Are you that much of an amateur? Never break protocol. I grit my teeth and turn back toward Rodriques, who signals me with two fingers. He is almost through. I am grateful his worried look doesn’t linger on me too long. I couldn’t bear the judgment.

“Careful now,” I rasp, my throat thick and irritated.

I brace myself as the screeching whine of the cutter becomes even higher, boring straight into my skull. When the hinge of the door gives way with a loud cracking pop, the girl flinches. Her eyes dart toward me, immediately.

“Almost there, cariño,” I shout.

The warmth of the car’s trapped air wafts over me when the door gives in and folds open and the smell of molten plastic and coolant fills the air. I don’t hesitate but lean in and unclip the girl’s seatbelt.

“Alright now, niña,” I whisper.

I wrap my hands around her frame and carefully lift her out. Her breath trembles, and she instantly wraps her thin arms around my neck, clinging on to me for dear life. I softly rub her back until I can hand her off to Fernandes, who walks over with an open blanket. The girl grips me tightly, unwilling to let go. I hold her for another beat, while I throw a look over my shoulder.

“Alright, cariño. Rosa will get you warm and safe while I go help your mom, okay?”

At the mention of her mother, the girl raises her head and her bottom lip starts to quiver. She nods once and reaches her arms out toward Fernandes, who takes her from me. As soon as she is in her arms, the weight of the loss hits me. Sharp and cold—just like Maya’s absence. I shake my head before I can gasp. Not now, Elena! You have lives to save.

***

When my screen goes dark for the second time, I blink and rub my face in frustration. I hate that I can’t focus. That my brain is filled with Maya. Her voice, her smell, the way the sunlight kisses her skin in the morning. She is everywhere. I growl—and an instant cough follows. Díaz raises an eyebrow from his chair.

“Boss, you should’ve really let the EMTs look at that.”

I scoff. “It’s just some mild smoke inhalation. There’s nothing they can do about it.”

“Excuse me,” a low voice rumbles from behind us.

I turn to face the Chief. His eyes scan my body before he crosses his arms in front of his chest and raises an eyebrow at me. The soft tilt of his chin tells me enough, but I can’t seem to speak.

“There was a mask malfunction, sir. It slipped and lieutenant Gonzales got a lungful of smoke.”

“Gonzales?”

My cheeks burn at the memory. I never break protocol, yet one thought of Maya… I nod to confirm it. Salisar sighs deeply and shakes his head.

“Why aren’t you at the hospital for a check-up?”

It doesn’t matter what I say. He will send me there regardless. So instead of trying to make him understand that I wanted to be productive and that my crew has missed me long enough, I shrug.

“Ahora,” he sighs, pointing at the door.

There’s no room for debate, so once more I grab my stuff and leave the station for another round of drama. What has become of me?

As soon as the door opens, Tommy’s head bobs up from behind his computer screen. One glance at me and a smile spreads across his face.

“Maya, you’re back. We missed you around here.”

I smile back at him. His warm demeanor is a welcome distraction from the swirling storm in the pit of my stomach. The past few days have been a tidal wave of sadness, frustration, acceptance, and so much pain that I thought I couldn’t breathe. I had expected Elena to reach out, but she didn’t. And somehow that seems so much more like her.

I tug a strand of hair behind my ear and move toward the door behind Tommy. He nearly tumbles off his chair, racing to hold it open for me. I frown while giving him another weary smile. Okay then?

“Thank you,” I say—almost like a question—but he simply nods, as if that answers it all.

I make my way through the maze of hallways. I’ve only been absent for four days, but I really missed this place. Not just because of Elena—no. It’s something more than that. The way my boots sound on these floors, the smell of oil and detergent that always seems to linger in the air, the sounds of life. This station never sleeps. It vibrates with life, with purpose. Never in a million years would I have expected it to grow so much on me. But now that I am back, the sorrow that I felt over the missed days suddenly punches me in the gut, only to be followed up with the realization that it’s only going to be another two weeks and nothing is going to be the same anyway. I really felt like I was a part of the crew, but I’m sure they would rather see me go than stay now. Nobody likes drama.

A soft sigh escapes my lips as I walk up the steel stairs. Rosa had graciously agreed to an interview, but only if I’d come to the station. She had been very adamant about adding that I couldn’t stay away forever. Technically she was wrong, of course. I could. But it wouldn’t do me any good. I am a grown woman and I have nothing to run away from. Besides, Elena made it very clear that nothing is going on. So, I should treat it as such. It’s the best possible outcome, really. My heart knows what to expect and my integrity is no longer on the line. It’s all about my career that I’m here to save.