Page 119 of Pick Me This Time

My ears rang, my heart suddenly dropping to my toes. Jake grabbed Rachel and I was vaguely aware of him screaming my name as the acrid scent of smoke reached my nostrils. “Daphne! Daph, we need to get out of here.”

“Take Rachel and go,” I yelled as the sound of his voice finally snapped me out of the surreal sense that this was just a dream. A nightmare but a dream nonetheless. “Go, Jake! Get them to safety!”

The people around us had started moving now too, shoulders smacking into me as I pressed forward through the crowd. Before I could even think about what I was doing, I was fighting my way in the opposite direction to the surge, heading toward the fire and the scene of the crash instead of away.

My mind was in a haze, my heart in my throat and my stomach swirling with sick. This can’t be happening. It can’t be happening.

The float that had caught fire had been near the front. Eric and Sterling had been on a float near the front. I bit my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut against the burn of the tears behind them. They’ll be fine. They have to be fine.

Everywhere around me, people were trying to get away. Shouting and screaming, they tried ducking, weaving, and pushing. The sidewalks were emptying out, but thick smoke was filling the air and those sirens didn’t seem to be getting any closer.

Please, let them be okay. Please. Please. Please.

I elbowed and shoved my way to the street, finally spilling into and ducking under the tape that had been spun at the edge of the parade. Those that had been riding on the floats behind the crash were watching the scene unfold with horror in their eyes, some still rooted to their spots while others were already making a run for it.

Knowing they had a better vantage point to see what was going on ahead, I grabbed hold of the float closest to me, hurdled onto the side of it, and put my hand up to my forehead to shield my eyes. What I saw made terror lace itself around my internal organs.

If I’d thought there was chaos around me, it was nothing compared to what was happening around the crash site. The football float was on its side, the players helping each other to get away while some had dashed to the fiery float ahead.

Dirty and covered in dust, grime, and slick sweat, those who had been closest were trying to help, grabbing fire extinguishers from store owners on the main street and the parade officials who had been on patrol.

As I watched, two of the players pulled the pins on the extinguishers they were holding, spraying white froth at the engine compartment of the float, which seemed to be where the fire was concentrated. I looked around wildly, seeking out my brother and his best friend.

I didn’t see them at first, but the smoke and the hurried rush of people around the floats made it hard to see anything at all. Finally, I spotted Sterling emerging from around the front of the float that had caused the carnage.

He pushed up on his toes, his head on a swivel as he scanned the crowd, desperately searching. I threw my arms up, waving as I screamed in an effort to get his attention. “Sterling! Sterling, I’m here. Where’s Eric?”

I knew it was next to impossible that he would hear me, but by some miracle, as I kept shouting, his gaze found my own. My heart stopped as relief rushed through me. He was dirty and his shirt was torn, but he seemed to be okay.

Where’s Eric, though? Where’s my brother?

I launched myself off the float I’d been on, sticking close to the line of them in an effort to reach the crash site as fast as I possibly could. Sterling was in one piece, and I needed to get to him. I ran as fast as my feet could carry me, but with every pounding footstep of my sneakers hitting the asphalt, one question repeated over and over again in my mind.

Where’s Eric? Where’s Eric? Where is he?