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There’s a bang and a powerful whoosh of air. The two firemen that approached the door with the hose are sent flying back and a mist of water drenches us all and two others fight to control the strong, heavy pipe as it twists and turns in the air.
“Oh my God,” I say, pulling forward. The house groans and creeks and the firemen remain on the ground, one of them seems unconscious and the other drags him away from the heat.
Everybody looks so helpless. Meanwhile there’s a little girl in there who might already be dead.
“DO SOMETHING!” Presley begs and the firetruck starts to move.
“The propane tank is going to go any fucking second!” I hear the chief yell. “It’ll bring the entire house down. We have to get that little girl out NOW!”
“The entire ground floor and half the second floor is done for. There’s no clear route in. The ladder will be too close to the flames to climb.” The other fireman sounds as panicked as the first one.
“What about the side? Ladder through the window?”
“It’s the spare fucking truck, Daniel. The ladder is jammed. It won’t reach that high!”
“DO SOMETHING!” people start to scream.
Another ambulance arrives to deal with the fallen fireman.
“GET OFF ME, YOU PUSSIES!” Presley shrieks, his voice hoarse from all the screaming. He’ll run into the fire if they let him, he’s not thinking straight.
I tug away from Stanley again who pulled me back into his chest when the chief spoke about the propane tank. Then I move to Myers, who is watching the scene through drunken, panicked eyes, wrapped in the safety of one of those foil fucking blankets.
I grab it and rip it from his body.
I’m probably going to die, but I always figured I would anyway.
If God is real, I’m here for a reason. And I have a feeling that this is the reason. I can get in there. I can do this.
“I’m here for a reason. I’m here for a reason,” I whisper-chant to myself to help gather the courage I need.
I wrap the blanket around my waist and tie it because I need my hands free, then I run at the truck, and using what skills I have, I scale the ladder on the back with ease and pull myself onto the top. I run across the slippery surface that’s slick from the errant hose. I can make it. I’ve jumped farther. I can get in there.
“MALLORY, NO!” I hear Stanley’s voice as I leap and sail through the air and over the flames of the crumbling porch.
My fingers grip the rotten wooden frame of the second-floor window and I pull my body up and in, grateful the window is open, tumbling into the house sideways. My lungs threaten to close immediately. There is so much smoke, and because the window is open it is pulling it all my way.
I stay low and hold my breath. I can’t see shit. My eyes are burning. It’s like when you cook oil in an oven for too long but a million times worse.
I try to focus but my mind is stuck in panic mode. It’s like when I learned to conquer my fear of heights. I just have to focus, get calm, try to breathe-ish… I can do this.
Carter said she’s in the next room. It’s not far.
I use the blanket to open the door and almost scream when I see flames climbing the banister. Crackling angrily as they eat away at it as though it’s little more than marshmallow.
It’s so hot yet I’m not sweating. My skin is dry. It feels like I’m sitting in an oven. I suppose I am.
I crawl along the floor using my hands and toes. The carpet feels like it’s melting beneath me.
I hear a groan from somewhere within the flames and start to panic.
I could turn back. Nobody would blame me. But then I wonder what I can turn back to. I won’t be able to jump back, there’s not enough running space.
“Stop being a coward,” I choke to myself.
I breathe and cough. It’s impossible. There’s no oxygen in here.
“PAISLEY!” I yell, begging her to reply.
I keep going, feeling for another door.
When I find it, I also hear a little girl’s cry. Oh my God. She’s alive.
I wrap the blanket around the handle and push it open, then slam it shut behind me.
“PAISLEY!” I yell and cough again. I’m starting to feel dizzy. Smoke poisoning will set in soon.
“I’m here,” the little girl replies and her hand peeks out from under the bed.
I grab it and pull her out but keep her low. “We have to go. Okay? We have to go.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know. I am too. But it’s going to be okay.” I cup her cute little cherub face with my hands, leaving ashy marks on her peachy skin. “Are you hurt?”
