Page 92 of Keep Me Safe

I cringe at his statement. I know it’s protocol, and he’s just doing his job, but I’m not leaving Dave in there.

“Fine,” I say, backing away with my hands raised.

The officer nods as he watches me. He won’t budge, and I need to find a way in.

“I need a favor,” I tell Jeff.

“Sure, anything. Did you find Dave?”

I shake my head. “He won’t let me in,” I say, gesturing toward the officer guarding the door. “I need you to distract him.”

We’re quickly running out of time.

The conflict in his features makes me nervous, but he sighs and finally nods. He runs toward the man, saying something that I can’t hear. The man nods and follows Jeff over to the truck.

Now is my chance.

To avoid suspicion, I walk to the entrance. I’m feet away when a voice booms behind me.

“Noah, what are you doing?”

It’s Al.

His eyes level me, but I only have time to look back at him with a chin dip as I disappear behind the flames. The heat is immediate. I scan the inside of the building. Where the fuck could he have gone? Debris blocks the path to the left hallway, so I head right.

“Dave!” I call as I look into the first room.

This building must have at least fifty dorms. He could be anywhere. Not finding any trace of him, I continue down the hall. A thud sounds in front of me as pieces of the ceiling hit the ground. My pulse quickens, but I try to control it. There’s only so much oxygen in this Air-Pak, and I need to conserve as much of it as possible. There’s a high chance that Dave will need it.

I continue through the hallway. Dread fills me, spreading further with each empty room. What if I’m too late? Opening the last door leads me to a stairwell.

“Dave, where the fuck are you?” I call, listening as hard as I can for an answer. Sweat drips down my back as I climb the soot-covered stairs. The door for the second level is being held open by what looks like an end table from one of the rooms.

Always have an exit strategy.

“Dave! Can you hear me?” I yell through the haze of smoke.

I listen, needing to hear his voice. Sirens blare from somewhere outside, and the fire is so goddamn loud.

“Help! We need help!” I hear a scream down the hall, but it’s not Dave. It’s a woman’s voice. I charge toward the sound, looking into each room before I freeze. Wearing an officer’s gas mask is a woman in her early twenties. She’s huddled down in the corner, her arms and hands badly burned. She sobs as I enter, making an effort to stand.

“Please, he needs help,” she begs.

I follow her line of sight, and my heart stops when I see it. Dave is on the ground, unconscious, a beam pinning his leg to the ground.

“Shit, is he breathing?” I ask as I kneel to check his pulse. His heart rate is faint, but it’s there.

“Yes, I’ve been sharing the mask with both of us. I couldn’t leave him here,” she cries. “But, I can’t get him out.”

“You did great,” I tell her. “Can you walk?”

She looks at me, nodding frantically.

“Okay, good,” I pull my mask off, putting it over Dave’s face.

“What’s your name?”

“Susan,” she answers.

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