Page 65 of Backdraft
Then the stairs began to fold.
I turned to see the lieutenant reach for my hand. "Book it," he shouted.
I hurried down the next two steps. The lieutenant’s eyes widened behind his mask and then he was gone. I blinked and tried to reach for the wall, but I didn’t get there in time, and I followed him down into the void.
Crashing through charred wood, beams, and debris, I tumbled. The firefighter's helmet light spun down, lighting up the horrific scene as it arced through the wreckage. The fall seemed to take forever, as if I were in slow motion. But the slo-mo fall came to an abrupt and very painful stop when I hit the bottom.
I tried to turn my head to locate the lieutenant and screamed in pain. Flames filled the space above me, roaring and eating up anything in its path. It was hungry, and I was lying here useless as it bore down on me.
A high-pitched beeping seeped into my confused brain. My head hurt like a son of a bitch, and it took a second to recognize the sound as the firefighter's emergency alarm.
They'll find us now.
The fire in the structure was a living and breathing entity that did not want to be put out. It fought back against the fresh deluge of water, which in turn flowed down onto us in the basement.
I watched the dance of the flames, thinking how pretty they looked fighting the water. There was a cat and mouse game being played between them.
The beautiful, sparkly glow grew. It worried me, but I wasn't afraid. Not like I was all those years ago when a careless cigarette ignited the same kind of ravenous performance.
As it did then, the fire showed its fury to me. The walls looming above began to lean in, flames boiled over the walls and then the upstairs crumbled into the hole. We were trapped at the bottom.
I tried to curl into a ball as the flaming and charred innards of the rooming house gave up the fight against the blaze and thundered down on us.
My scream was lost in the chaos, pain crushed me, and everything went dark.
Chapter Nineteen
Just as he was finishing up the crash scene, Taylor got a message that Drea had been injured at a fire. For a moment, he couldn't breathe. He listened to the message a couple of times and then shoved the phone into his pocket. He rested a hand against the side of the van while his world tilted.
He had to get to her. He was a couple of hours away from Oak Creek now.
He took deep breaths and closed his eyes. Panic and alarm wouldn't do him or Drea any favors, but goddamn, it could be too late by the time he got to the hospital.
Forcing down the alarm and panic that began to take hold of him, he started the van and exited the crash scene. He wasn't needed anymore and would arrange for body removal. He had to get to the hospital and fast. When he realized he was rocking back and forth in the seat, he forced himself to stop and gripped the steering wheel.
He had to get to her.
His stomach soured. He grabbed the bottle in the cup holder and drank it, grimacing when the warm water filled his mouth. He finished it anyway and tossed the empty bottle in the back.
A car cut him off, and he lay on the horn.
"Outta my way, asshole!"
He zoomed around the little car and heard someone yell at him, but he ignored it. He had only one thing on his mind.
He had to get to her.
Taylor didn't try to understand the emotions he was experiencing. He couldn't right now. That would have to come later. All he could think of was getting there before…
What?
She died?
Was she in a coma?
Was she burned so badly she may not survive?
He swallowed, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He needed more water but had none. What if he got there too late and she was already dead? What if she was too injured to pull through?
