Page 42 of Sunburned

“Yeah.”

As we neared the trailer, I saw that only the glass door was shut. I hit the bottom of the fire extinguisher into the latch, coughing when it swung open and a plume of smoke billowed out.

I covered my face with the bottom of my shirt, remaining on the top step just outside the living room as I pulled the pin on the fireextinguisher and aimed blindly in the direction of the flames, firing in a sweeping motion. In a flash, Tyson was beside me, doing the same.

“What are you doing?” Andie cried. “That’s not gonna work. We have to get him out.”

She was right, our efforts didn’t seem to be doing much good at all. But the windows were so far off the ground that we needed something to stand on to get up to them. “Do you have a ladder?” I asked.

“No.”

Tyson continued to work on the fire as Andie and I glanced around the yard. We saw the plastic chair at the same time. She grabbed it and started running toward the back of the trailer.

“Come on,” I yelled to Tyson. “We need your help pulling him out.”

Tyson cast a glance at me as he continued spraying the fire. He said something, but I couldn’t make it out with the roar of the flames and his elbow covering his nose and mouth.

“What?” I shouted.

“We should wait for the fire department,” he repeated.

I shook my head. “He could be dead by the time they get here!”

“We’re not risking our lives for him,” Tyson said.

I drew back, shocked. “We have to try.”

“He’s put us in a very bad situation. We’re better off without him.”

It was true, we were under Ian’s thumb, running the sales deflation program constantly to be able to pay him the cash he demanded. But it had never occurred to me not to save him.

“I’m not letting him die,” I said. “And I will never speak to you again if you do.”

When I reached the back of the trailer, I saw Andie standing on the chair, struggling to pull herself up on the window frame. I came up behind her and hoisted her into the open window.

“Use your shirt like a mask,” I called out to her as I placed my hands on the windowsill and struggled to lift myself up.

I’d gotten my chin and shoulders through when Tyson showed up. “We’re gonna regret this,” he said, giving me a boost from behind.

Andie was already tugging on Ian, her shirt covering her nose, whenI dropped through the window onto the mattress. The room was thick with smoke as I pulled my own shirt up over my nose, my eyes stinging.

I took Ian’s wrist in my hand, placing two fingers over his pulse. It was weak, but present. “He’s alive,” I said, slapping him across the face.

He didn’t wake. I slapped him again, to no avail, as Tyson came through the window.

“How are we gonna get him out?” Andie asked.

“We can prop him by the window, then you and I can push him out,” I said to Andie. “Tyson will be outside to catch him.”

Tyson nodded grimly, already hooking his arms under Ian’s armpits. He dragged him across the bed, set him up by the window, then went out backward. “Okay,” he said. “Pass him to me.”

I grabbed one foot and she grabbed the other and we pulled until his legs were dangling out the window. “Okay,” I called to Tyson, coughing.

Andie and I lifted Ian and gave a push.

He was stuck on the frame and then in an instant, his weight shifted, and he was gone, ripped from our hands by gravity. Andie cried out as he fell on top of Tyson, knocking them both to the ground.

I turned to gesture for her to go out first, but she was rummaging through the closet. “Come on,” I called. “We need to get out of here.”

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