Page 52 of Waves of Fury

And he doesn’t.

“Tyler!” I yell. “Now! We don’t have any more time—”

My words are cut off when the building begins to crumble. I let out a choked sound as Aaron and Jesse both start for the building.

Ka-boom!

We’re all knocked to our asses as the explosion detonates. I’m vaguely aware of bits of glass and splinters of wood biting into my flesh. As soon as I’m sure the worst is over, I jump to my feet, squinting against the inferno billowing from the remains of the building.

Tyler.

He was still inside.

No!

Aaron lets out a pained cry, so mournful and horrible I feel it deep in the very marrow of my bones.

He’s not dead.

He can’t be. Not after everything we’ve survived thus far.

Seconds turn into minutes and Tyler doesn’t emerge from the flames.

This cannot be happening.

Tyler

I’m dead.

But dead people aren’t aware that they’re dead, right?

So maybe I’mnotdead…

A raspy groan escapes me as I try to make sense of my surroundings. It’s warm—no, hot. Really hot. Like standing too close to a campfire and the heat singes your eyebrows off kind of hot.

Why is it so hot?

I blink away the dazed cloud inside my brain but still can’t see. We were in the store, an earthquake struck, and then a deafening boom.

Around me, I can hear loud popping and crackling sounds as a fire burns out of control. Unfortunately for me, I’m in it. Or near it.

I painfully turn my head to the right and the glowing orange of the inferno lights up my vision. I’m definitely on the ground. I can smell the earthy dirt my cheek is pressed against. Did I escape in time?

An attempt to crawl away from the heat is put on hold when I realize I can’t move. My legs are pinned beneath something heavy. A beam of wood or some other piece of the building.

Did everyone else make it out? My brothers? Kellen?

Panic sets in as I start clawing at the dirt. Whatever has me pinned is keeping the flames off me, but it’s still hot as fuck. If I don’t get out of here soon, I’ll cook to death.

“Help,” I croak out, praying those still in the truck can hear me.

My voice is worthless, though, and barely carries above the crackling fire. I grunt and dig my fingers deep into the ground, hoping to pull myself out of this mess I’m in.

Nothing.

As hysteria infects my every cell, I clear my throat and put all my energy into yelling for help. My view ahead is smokey, but if I had to guess, I’m somewhere on the backside of the building since I was standing near the back of the store at the time of the explosion.

They have to hear me.

---