Page 77 of Shield and Savior

Somewhere there’s a snap and shattering sound as the support beams give way. Floor two, this is where the guys have their desks. Cubical block: a clear line of sight. I call out, “Is anyone here?” I pause to listen, but the fire is so loud it would likely drown out any reply if someone did hear me. Above me, the ceiling shakes. No, not good. I could run across the room and check every spot, but that could take forever. And I don’t have that kind of time.

Another ear-splitting crack. The smoke fills the room like a deadly fog. Leave, there’s nothing here.

“Help!”

A sign of life. Hope. I turn and head toward the stairs one more time.

There I see lumpy masses in the smoky haze. Coughing and heaving. “I’m here to help!” I scream, but the smoke fills my lungs.

“Izzy?”

The mass is two people. Arms around each other, huddled together. My heart stops when I see the blood pouring off her face. Alana is holding most of Lance’s weight, his head is down, and he’s limp.

Don’t ask if he’s alive. The answer could be something you don’t want to hear. I step forward to grab his other arm.

Alana coughs, putting her hand up. “Wait, I don’t know if the stairs can hold all of us.”

Speed matters now. The smoke will kill us as fast as a fall. “You’ll get down faster if I help.”

Alana lurches forward, and I grab Lance’s right side. He’s dead weight and heavy as fuck. “You okay?”

She doesn’t answer.

I can feel the rise and fall of Lance’s chest. Alive. But for how long? We’re halfway down the second flight when burning wood rains on us. The roof is about to give way. I’ve never struggled to breathe in my life before now.

A plank falls, and Alana blocks it with her arm, protecting Lance’s head. There’s a cracking sound. Is it her arm or the wood? Either way, she yells and coughs. Second landing and still more stairs to go.

There’s a cough next to my ear. “Lance?”

We lumber down the next flight, dragging him behind. “Izzy?” he whispers. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, but if you could help a little, that would be great.”

“Come on, we need your help. We won’t make it without you,” Alana coaxes as sparks and broken bits of wood fall on us.

As if her words are magic, Lance moves his legs, taking on some of the weight. It’s an awkward descent, but it’s enough to almost double our speed.

The third story comes crashing down on the second floor as we reach the last landing. The smell of burning plastic and its toxic chemicals compete with the smoke for my attention. But I focus on one step at a time.

The building rips apart much faster than I thought it would, torn apart like some god ripping the seams on a dress. The air is hazy, harder to see through, but beams of light cut through the smoke. Go. Go toward the light.

“We’re here!” I yell as the light gets larger and brighter. I don’t know who’s grabbing me, but Lance’s weight is off my shoulders. I’m not sure if my feet are touching the ground anymore, but someone is getting us out.

It’s an explosion of white light and slightly cleaner air. “Miss, are you okay?” Yellow. Plastic. Helmet. My brain can only process so many words. I cough until my stomach hurts, heaving the entire way.

In the light, I can see the damage.

Blood pours like a river from Alana’s left side. The deep red and the black char contrasts with the paleness of her skin. The firefighters and EMTs grab her to give her medical attention, but she pushes them off. “Macie!”

Macie, still clutching a black box in her hand, runs over to Alana. Words of concern flood out of her mouth, but Alana stops them. “I’m fine. Once I get to the hospital, they’re going to diagnose me with a concussion, which means several weeks of a brain break.”

The assistant nods and taps her phone. “Go.”

“Sell all the safehouses, the locations are compromised. Call the insurance companies and don’t let Hadeon help.”

Macie’s like a bobble head with every instruction. “Is that it?”

“No. Feed Midge, call Lance’s mom, and get as much help as you need, but trust no one.” Another coughing attack grips hers. I reach for Alana’s crumbling body. She blinks up at me. “Thank you. Tell your family, ‘The Deviant is coming.’”

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