Page 3 of Inferno

I gasp at the voice which sends me into a coughing fit.

“Help me,” I manage to choke out.

“Move away from the door!”

I do as I’m told, and a loud banging sound joins the crackling of the fire. Several long seconds later, the door splinters open, and I’m able to make out the shape of a person crawling into the room.

“Where are you?” they ask.

I move toward the voice, and a hand grabs my arm. I’m lifted off the floor and squished against a body.

“I’m gonna need you to hold your breath, okay?”

I nod as I quickly plug my nose and bury my face in my rescuer’s shirt. The heat intensifies as I’m whisked out of the room.

“Then what happened?” Jack asks.

I didn’t realize I’d been recounting the whole event out loud until he spoke, and I shake my head to clear the cobwebs.

“I was saved,” I say simply.

“Well, yeah, but…”

That’s the part most people don’t understand. They think that because I survived, I shouldn’t still be reeling from everything that happened. But healing isn’t that easy.

“The man who carried me from the fire died trying to save more kids. Only two of us made it out of that building alive: me and a third grader.”

“Wait a second,” Jack says with skepticism. “The fire department wasn’t able to save anyone?”

I shake my head. “They were able to get several students and teachers out, but they’d already suffered too much smoke inhalation.”

“Damn.”

“It took hours to get the fire under control and even longer to extinguish it completely.” A knot forms in my stomach when I recall the solid month of funerals were held after. “So, you see Jack, you’re not alone in the trauma department,” I say, trying to turn the conversation away from me. “No one is immune to it, and some need more to heal from it than others.”

“Are you healed?” Jack asks, genuine curiosity in his tone.

Part of me wants to lie, to give all of them hope, but I can’t. Not only would it be unethical, but I’m pretty sure having a therapist lie to you would do more damage than the truth.

“No, not completely,” I admit, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. “But I’ve learned how to cope with everything that happened. The memories… they’ll never go away. I’m just able to process them in a healthy manner.”

Jack leans back and rubs his hands on his thighs. After taking a deep breath, he sighs. “When I was fourteen…”

For the next ten minutes, Jack shares his story. The others are enthralled, but I can’t seem to focus. All I can think about is the moment I knew I was safe all those years ago.

The strange man sets me on my feet in the parking lot at the front of the school.

“What’s your name?” he asks before glancing over his shoulder at the building.

“E-Emmaline,” I answer quietly. “But my mommy calls me Emmy.”

He smiles, and his white teeth stand out in the middle of his dirty face. “Emmy, I need you to go across the street to where those people are, okay?” He points to the group of onlookers.

I nod and turn to run toward them. Before I get too far, I stop and whirl back around. “Wait a second!” I shout at the man, but he must not hear me because he doesn’t stop.

“Emmaline!”

Once again, I’m yanked into the present. When my eyes focus, I notice that the group members have left, and Steph, my friend and co-worker, is standing in front of me with a concerned look on her face.

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