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“Jackson!” I shout through the smog but immediately start coughing.
My progress is slow after that. The heated air wraps around me as I move further into the corridor. He led us so quickly through the maze of the building that I’m tentative in my steps without him here.
“Jackson!” I keep calling, hoping he’ll hear. I run my hands along the wall to help keep my balance in the gloom but keep tripping over piles of rubble. I rip the edge of my skirt and hold it over my mouth, but it’s little help with the smoke.
I keep going, trying to remember the way Jackson led us, and as I round a corner, I find a set of stairs in front of me and hear voices from above.
“Jackson!” Two figures stumble down, and I can make out Jackson and what must be Jamie. She’s half-conscious with him holding her up.
“The hell are you doing here?” he snaps, pushing us back. “Take her. Get her out.” Without hesitation, I go to her. She’s the same size as me, but I wrap her arm over my shoulder and hold her tightly around the waist, bracing her against me. My heart races in my chest as I cough and struggle to claw in the air that my body demands.
One step. Then another. I drag Jamie back the way I came, searching for a clear path in the smoke, but I can’t hear Jackson.
“Keep … going …” Her voice is faint, and I dig deep to find the strength to get her clear of the building.
My shoulder eventually knocks the door open and we fall out onto the concrete, Jamie crashing to the ground with me. The dim light of the alley can’t hide the blistered and painful burns covering half of her face. She needs a hospital.
“Help!” The man from the van comes hurrying towards us and scoops Jamie up.
“I have to go back. He was right behind me.” I turn to watch the door, but he doesn’t appear.
“Fast. We can’t stay here for long,” the man says.
Pulling in the cleaner air, I fill my lungs before going back for Jackson. It’s easier this time. Not just because I’ve just walked it, but because I can hear voices.
Dark figures wrestling together emerge in my blurry sight, grappling at each other. I drop to the ground and feel around for something – anything – I can use to help. My fingers run over something curved and hard, and I grab the weighty object and pull. A steel pipe emerges from the pile of bricks, and I raise it like a bat and stagger forward until I can see the two men.
With all the smoke and tears in my eyes, I can barely see, but I recognise Jackson. The other man has him in a headlock. His back’s to me, so I take a breath, heave the pipe backwards and smash it down on his spine. He crumbles to the ground, like the man in Jackson’s grip when he killed him.
My fingers release the pipe, and it clatters to the floor. Jackson’s bent forward, coughing and choking.
Did I kill him?
“Jackson?” I cry, panic and fear lancing my voice.
I spin around, disorientated. Darkness grows at the corner of my vision, and the smoke and adrenaline cause me to half fall in the debris.
“Come here. I've got you.” His palm at the base of my back pushes me upwards and forward towards the exit, until, finally, we make it to the door and back out again.
We both gulp down the air we need as we cough and spit up soot and dust.
“Naja!” Miri pulls me up and towards the van, and I see the man pulling Jackson in the same direction. Several big, black duffels are in Jackson’s hand and over his back as we collapse into the back of the van.
Within seconds, we’re on the move.
“Where are we going?” Miri asks quietly.
I don’t have an answer.
“Heckle, how’s Jamie?”
“Bad,” the man driving replies.
We’re in darkness again, only the streetlights cutting through the back of the van to illuminate us.
“Safe house?” Heckle asks.
“Hospital first. Jamie needs help. Are the plates clean?”
