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A pulse. Weak, but there.

Relief hit so hard my head dropped forward. “You’re alive.”

He didn’t open his eyes.

I touched his cheek. “I’m here.”

I ran back to the living room, grabbed another blanket, and slowly shifted him onto it. Hudson was heavier than anyone else. He had spent years building the body required to solve everyone’s problems. Apparently, he’d never considered how inconvenient that would be during an emergency extraction.

I pulled. He moved an inch.

“Hudson, this is unacceptable.”

No reaction.

His boots caught against the threshold.

“I need you to cooperate.” I dragged harder. My back protested. My arms began losing strength. I changed position, readjusting my grip on the blanket and leaning my weight backward.

He slid out of my grip, but I caught him before his head hit the floor. The movement nearly brought him down on top of me. I stumbled but stayed upright.

“Good,” I panted. “We’re making progress.”

I hauled him through the front room. Every few feet, I stopped and checked his breathing.

Still there.

Still shallow.

“Don’t you dare die,” I told him. “You can hate me when you wake up.”

His body was completely limp, not one ounce of his strength evident. The sight made tears blur my vision.

I blinked them away. “You have every right to hate me. I won’t argue. I won’t make excuses. I’ll listen to the full lecture.” I pulled him another foot. “You can tell me you never want to see me again.” The front door came closer. “I just need you to be alive when you do it.”

Hands reached through the smoke. Trevor and his father caught Hudson’s arms and helped pull him onto the porch. I followed them outside.

Patty rushed forward. “Is he breathing?”

“Yes.”

They carried him farther into the yard. I followed long enough to see Hudson placed on the grass beside Hilary. Someone had brought oxygen tanks.

People moved between the victims, checking pulses and clearing airways. Hudson remained unconscious.

I wanted to stay. I wanted to kneel beside him and hold his hand until he opened his eyes. Then Julie screamed Caldwell’s name.

I turned.

She stood near the house, searching the people stretched across the lawn. “Where is he?”

Karen ran to her side. “I thought he was with Mom.”

“He was,” Julie said. “But he must’ve come back home. I can’t find him. I think he’s inside.”

They searched every face. Caldwell wasn’t among them.

My body moved before the thought finished. I ran back toward the house.