“Help!” Sally screamed again, her calls briefly followed by terrified crying.
“Sally, it’s Sebastian. Where are you?” I shouted over the noise of everything breaking and falling apart.
I followed her pleas for help to a wedge of space where a support beam had fallen, which seemed to be all that was now keeping the wall from collapsing in on the stairwell. I crouched down and started shoving and pulling debris out of the way, tossing it aside before grabbing her outstretched hand.
“I’ve got you,” I said firmly.
I was shit scared.
I’d never experienced a rush of adrenaline like this in my entire life.
But I couldn’t just let her die there.
“Sally, come on,” I called out to her. “You’ve got to help me get this crap out of the way!”
And maybe it was because she knew someone was there to get her out, but Sally stopped crying. From what I could see of her arms, she was determinedly pushing wreckage my way to make a small opening.
I leaned in close, making out what I could of her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes! Please don’t leave me!”
“I won’t, I promise. Give me your hands. I’ll pull.”
She stuck her arms out of the space, and I grabbed and yanked for all it was worth.
Thank God she was tiny.
Sally slid free. She was bleeding and coughing up a lung, but her arms and legs were moving and she generally seemed to be in one piece. She immediately started crying again and grabbed me.
Above us was another explosion, and the building shook. We both screamed, and I pulled her close, covering her with my body as shit fell on us.
“Sally, hey, it’s going to be okay,” I insisted, because if I didn’t, who would? “But I lost my glasses and I can’t see, so I need your help.”
That seemed to give her a strange source of courage. “O-Okay,” she said. Sally grabbed my hand tight.
We both started down the stairs, and they were breaking behind us as we moved. The old building was going to fall in on itself any second. I grabbed at the hot wall to guide me, and Sally pushed me in the right direction as I led the way. We reached the first floor, and I could hear sirens over the splintering and roar of flames.
I shoved her through what was left of the front door and climbed out behind her just as my home caved in.
Someone grabbed me, then another person, and I was hoisted up and rushed away. The heat of the flames receded, and the cold night air filled my lungs. I started coughing violently, trying to get the smoke and soot out. I was led to an ambulance and sat in the back. They wanted to take me to the hospital.
“No,” I said, waving a hand. “Where’s the woman I came out with?”
“She’s safe, sir. Don’t worry,” the EMT told me.
I was dazed and in need of oxygen, but otherwise I was alive. I found a mask over my nose and mouth, and I was instructed to breathe. They put a blanket over my shoulders, and someone was cleaning a cut on my forehead that hurt more than any other part of me.
The scene before me was a blurry disaster: lights flashing, people running, firefighters taking command of the scene. Even in the dark, it was too much for my eyes. I closed them and tilted my head down.
I took a few deep breaths and tried to understand what the fuck had happened, but my mind was racing. I was still so high on adrenaline; I couldn’t think straight. All I remembered was calling Calvin.
Calvin.
I tugged the mask off, and the EMT ordered me to put it back on. “Where’s my boyfriend?” I demanded. It took a second for me to recall that Calvin hadn’t been here.
But he was coming.
Or—
