Page 126 of Axe Backwards
The stove wasn’t on. There were no candles. What the fuck?
My heart seized.
Downstairs.
I stuffed my feet into my boots, then I threw the door open, leaped over the banister, and ran down the stairs. The closer I got to Vic’s apartment, the denser the smoke was. It was coming from her apartment. Why hadn’t her smoke detectors gone off? The building was old, but I’d replaced the batteries in hers when I’d checked mine a month or two ago.
The first floor was dark and smoky. With the neckline of my shirt pulled up over my nose and mouth, I splayed my hand on her door. It was warm but not hot to the touch, so I grasped the knob and pulled. The door wouldn’t budge. It had been dead-bolted.
I twisted the knob again and pushed as hard as I could. When that did nothing, I threw my shoulder into it. I let the calm settle over me. I could get her out.
Heart racing, I ran outside and darted to my truck. I yanked on the tailgate and popped the toolbox open. Axe and respirator in hand, I ran back into the building. I barely had my respirator in place before I was swinging.
I had no idea how the door had been jammed or tampered with, and I didn’t care. I swung with everything I had and was halfway through the solid wood when I heard her cries.
“Vic,” I shouted as I cleared away shards of wood. It was too dark and smoky to see anything inside the apartment. “I’m coming.”
I hacked at the barrier between us, my movements methodical.
“The windows won’t open,” she shouted, her voice high-pitched and panicked.
I swung a final time, then kicked, sending wood and debris flying. When I stepped through the gaping hole, I finally laid eyes on her. She stood on the other side of the kitchen, arms wrapped around her torso, her face a mask of horror in the light of the flames that devoured the ancient linoleum floor.
“It’s okay. I’m here.”
She wore a T-shirt and cotton shorts, her feet bare, her body trembling violently.
Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I devised a plan. I was in control. I knew what to do. I’d save my girl.
“Stand on that chair,” I said, inspecting her past the line of flames that was clearly caused by an accelerant. “Then jump. I’ll catch you.”
She nodded, her movements jerky.
The heat was overwhelming, the flames so close they singed the hair on my legs. I ignored it all. Vic needed me.
She climbed onto the chair, unsteady, and coughed. At the sound, I spiraled for a moment. Had she inhaled smoke? How much?
I pushed the thought from my mind. I couldn’t worry about that now.
“Jump.” I stepped forward, arms outstretched, ignoring the searing pain licking at my skin.
Without hesitation, she obeyed. As I caught her, a blistering sensation on my forearms forced me to back away from the fire quickly.
Holding her to me, I turned and pushed through the debris. In the hall, I set her down.
“Go outside and call 911,” I instructed, yelling so she could hear me through my respirator. “I gotta check the third floor.”
“Dylan is gone for the summer.” She clung to me, her fingers digging into my burned skin. “He’s not home.”
I cupped her sooty cheeks. “I have to check.”
With a nod, she turned. As she stepped outside, I spun and darted up the two flights of steps to Dylan’s apartment. I banged on the door, and when no one answered, I kicked it in. Quickly, I flipped on the lights and swept the place. Empty except for the screaming smoke detector.
Now that no one was in immediate danger, my thoughts shifted to Tess.
I adjusted my mask and headed back to my place. In her bedroom, I snagged the large box off the top shelf of her closet and the framed photo of her with her parents that hung above her crib.
With these precious memories in hand, I raced out of the apartment. The heat was increasing rapidly. I needed to get out of here.
