Page 2 of Packed in the Fire house

I really needed to clean up after him more, but how was I to know my building would catch on fire? What were the chances?

If I was honest with myself, given the horrible neighborhood I lived in and the crappy management, there were probably damn good odds that my building would end up on fire or collapsing—I simply hadn’t considered that.

A sob bubbled up in my chest, but I shoved it back down. I couldn’t let myself fall apart until we were both safe.

My hand reached out, grasping at the door handle. It was red hot, and my hand burned as I pulled it back with a muttered, “fuck.”

I usually did my best to avoid swearing around Luka, but I felt the situation warranted it.

My heart slammed against my chest as I glanced around the apartment, which was rapidly filling with dark smoke. Grabbing a baby blanket off the sofa, I wrapped it around the handle and tugged.

It didn’t budge.

It was like the door was freaking glued shut.

After a few more tugs, I realized it was futile.

I couldn’t just stand there and hope the door would magically open. I needed to think of something else.

Smoke was pouring out from under the door, and I needed to stop it. Taking the blanket, I knelt, shoving it into the gap under the door. It slowed the stream of smoke but didn’t stop it entirely.

Luka wiggled in my arms, making my movements difficult.

Retreating to the kitchen, I grabbed a clean kitchen towel and doused it in cool water, a move I had seen people on TV do before. I wrapped the towel around Luka’s face, soothing him through his protests while desperately hoping this would work.

Blood rushed in my ears, and I could hear my heartbeat as it thundered in my chest.

“It’s for your own good, sweet boy,” I cooed, even though I knew he couldn’t understand me. I coughed, trying my best to suppress it. The smoke was getting thicker by the second, and my chest was getting tight with it.

I ran to the window and sagged in relief when I saw firefighters entering the building.

They would save us.

I just needed to keep Luka and myself safe until they got to us.

Thinking on my feet, I retreated to Luka’s room. It was the least smoky room. The windows of the old building were mainly nailed shut and only able to open a crack, so with one arm, I shoved the window open, hoping those two inches would help us.

Get low.Wasn’t that what I’d heard when it came to fires? Smoke rose—that’s what I recalled the firefighters that had come into our schools when we were little saying.

Luka was starting to cry, clutching desperately to me. The sound of my son’s distress was physically painful.

Once the window was open, I sat in the corner of the nursery, keeping as low as possible, clutching Luka to my chest.

We simply had to wait for the firefighters.

I sang Luka’s favorite nursery rhyme to soothe him. It helped only slightly.

I was a terrible mother. If I got through this, I vowed I would ensure my son had the safest home possible. It didn’t matter what it took or what it cost me.

Chapter 2

Rune

Another night, another fire.

My job wasn’t for everyone, but I was good at it, and it gave me purpose.

I was a deep sleeper, usually, but the sound of the station alarm always had me up and ready to go in seconds.

---