Page 18 of Burn

The fire has been extinguished, and we have Acting Captain Harrington here. Captain, talk us through what happened here. Can you provide any insight into the casualties?”

Captain Harrington:

“Thanks, Steve. Fire investigators are on their way in, so I can’t comment on what started the fire. When we arrived, the entire eighth floor was impassable. We sent guys up to the floors above to confirm everyone got out safely. As you mentioned, we were able to get several individuals out and to medics for care. I won’t comment on potential fatalities—everyone we loaded into ambulances was alive.”

Steven Smithe:

“Is it true you had firefighters go down?”

Captain Harrington:

“We did have a couple of our guys transported to local hospitals. We’re keeping them in our prayers and trust the medical staff to do everything in their power to help them.”

Steven Smithe:

“Can you provide the names of the firefighters that were sent to the hospital?”

Captain Harrington:

“Come on, Steve. You know I’m not going to do that.”

Steven Smithe:

“Thank you, Captain. We will continue to follow this developing story and bring you updates as we learn more. Police have requested nearby citizens avoid the Ash Hollow Lane area for the time being. This has been Steven Smithe with Channel 12 News. Back to you, Susan.”

Shadow

LANE

My arms are folded across the cold table in the hospital food court, cradling my head. I think I’m coming up on 24 hours awake, and my body is rebelling against me. The scrape of the chair dragging across the tile floors jolts me out of my near sleep, and I push myself upright. Dave lowers himself into the seat, setting the tray of coffee and donuts down between us. I can’t help but laugh; he must have bought one of everything, and the donuts are stacked awkwardly on top of each other.

“I couldn’t pick one flavor. They all looked delicious, and you must be starving.” His tone is soft and gentle. As if he’s worried anything more substantial would be the straw that broke the camel’s back.

I reach for the coffee. It’s old and bitter, but I work to hide the cringe fighting to emerge. The coffee is disgusting.

“Thank you,” I say, equally as quiet.

We sit silently for a few moments. He picks at a couple of donuts, rooting through the mountain to find what he wants.

When we arrived yesterday, the doctors reviewed the specifics of Lex’s condition. I was shocked to see the doctor. She was young and beautiful. She looked too young to be a doctor, but the name badge confirmed that she was, in fact, a real-deal doctor.

“I’m Dr. Romera, one of the attending physicians at Torhaven Medical Hospital. I was on shift last night when paramedics brought in Lex,”she spoke clearly, ensuring I had time to absorb her words.“Things were touch and go when she arrived, but she is stable, and the prognosis is good. There are no external burns — we were told the fire wason another floor, and she was only exposed to the smoke. That is our main concern right now. Smoke exposure means she likely breathed in soot, ash, and realistically harmful chemicals. Her oxygen levels were extremely low, but the medics acted quickly and intubated her to ensure she continued to have adequate oxygen getting to her brain and organs.”

I wanted to scream at her to tell me where Lex was. The last place I wanted to be was in the damn waiting area. I had anchored myself to Dave, gripping his hand with a force that I don’t think he’s experienced from me since Lola was born. I nodded along, refusing to allow a single word out.

“She’s still unconscious and has a breathing tube. We’re monitoring her respiratory function, and when she wakes up, we’ll evaluate her condition and hopefully remove that tube. Occasionally, patients with this level of exposure may deteriorate 24 to 48 hours later. Before I take you in, do you have any questions?”

I had many questions, thousands of questions, but none of them seemed important when all I wanted was to see my friend. I shook my head, and Dr. Romera nodded, signaling us to follow her.

The scene that greeted us when we walked into the hospital room will haunt me, I think, for the rest of my life. The smell of antiseptic was overpowering and surprising. I had expected to smell the fire, but there was no smokey smell. Seeing one of my best friends hooked up to so many machines. A thick tube protruded from her mouth, taped to her face. Wires were running under her hospital gown, connected to heart monitors. The machines beeped in a steady, even rhythm. Her usually rich hair looked dull, and I told myself it was lingering soot, not that she was on death’s doorstep.

The doctor told us to call for a nurse if Lex woke up and excused herself, leaving us in a horrified silence. Dave dropped my hand, shook it, and placed it on my back, rubbing slow andsoothing circles. Once the door clicked closed, I let the first tear fall. Reflecting on it, I’m unsure if it was sadness, fear, or relief. She’s alive. We’d stayed through the day and into the night. Dave slept for a couple of hours, but every time I closed my eyes, my brain concocted different unthinkable versions of what she went through. Eventually, I committed to staying awake.

I called her dad and Blake, but I couldn’t think of anyone else who should know — that she would want to know. When I turned on the TV, thinking maybe some noise would pull her out of unconsciousness, the channels were full of news reports of the fire.

“As we reported earlier, several individuals, including firefighters and children, were taken to hospitals. We’ve now received confirmed reports that there were two fatalities,”the reporter stated in a somber tone.

I had turned it off, not wanting her first sounds to recap the chaos.

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