Page 5 of Burn
The smoke is getting denser, filling the space, choking out everything and anything it can. It’s the fire’s number one weapon, the thing she uses to take the majority of the victims she claims. The flames are the last of the concern when it comes to human life, but suffocating on her smoke, that’s the real killer. That is where her and I differ, I take with the flame, but only people who deserve it. They aren’t victims, they’re trash to be incinerated. I never kill innocents, and the boy screaming for his life is as innocent as they come, just like I was once.
“Help!” The small voice cries out from my right, barely audible through the sounds of the apartment ablaze. “In here.”
“Hang on. I’m coming!” I hack out between coughs, shoving my regulator back in my mouth, taking a deep but ragged breath in.
I’m no good to him if the smoke takes me down, I need to get to him, to bust down his door and sweep him away from this, just like my savior did for me.
Was he really a savior? Wouldn’t you have been better off dead? Not here living a lie.
The walls screech with their paint peeling from the heat as I toss a mangled chair out of my way, working through what looks like a living room. A television explodes in the corner, with glass from the screen blowing out towards me, pelting my uniform and helmet. I continue on through, moving a couch like it’s a toy, grabbing the arm of it and pushing it like it weighs nothing.
Another few steps on the buckling floor and I’m at a wooden door, and the only thing between me and the boy. I can hear the sounds of my own bedroom door as it bowed inwards with the heat, and I look at the one in front of me, barely seeing it through the blackness. I can feel it though as I place my gloved hand on its center. I can feel the way it does the same, bending and flexing, creaking and cracking under my touch.
The knob is locked. It’s not jammed, its fucking locked. Just like mine was. “Fuck.” I curse out, loud enough that the boy hears me, and his quiet cries turn to wailing screams.
“Back away from the door.” I call out to him. “Get back.”
The cheap, hollow core wood splits down the center with the first hit of my axe, the blade going through it easily. Splinters fly back at me, and land on my feet as I hit it again and again, opening up enough of a hole that I can grab the edges with my hands. Like a madman, I rip and pull at the hole, making it bigger, kicking the bottom with my foot, and breaking chunks away with my hands.
Smoke floods into the room, and the flames behind me lick at my back. My brothers are getting to the mother, and the fire is raging its anger out, trying to keep us from our job, but I’m not letting her have him. I won’t allow her to taste him like she tasted me. No fucking way.
We’re on the fourth floor, and the view out the window beyond him shows no fire escape. I can’t jump out a window with him, we’re too high up. He needs to come out with me, to step through the flames, to walk through the fire that wants to consume him.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
“Come here. It’s okay. I’ve gotcha.” I yell to him, dropping my axe and opening my arms like a father waiting for his child to run to him. “I’m gonna get you out.”
The rest of the door falls away as tiny shards that dangle from the warped hinges. Flames kiss my back, hissing against the fireproof material of my uniform. It’s fucking hot and angry, but she’s no match for my determination to get him.
“Come on buddy. You’re safe with me.” I say again, walking into the room my arms still extended. “I’m taking you out. Don’t fight me okay?”
He’s a little thing, maybe eight years old. A tad younger than I was when this exact thing happened to me. He’s terrified, with a face full of tears that leave streaks in the soot on his skin. He’s in shock and not moving, all while the beast behind me is creeping in.
Flames lick up the walls, the smoke billowing in, thickening the air, trying to hide him from my view. It’s literal hell on earth with the heat and the suffocating air. He won’t last more than a minute in here, and as much as I hate having to traumatize him more, there’s no other choice.
Visions of the firefighter grabbing me and throwing me out the window with himself wash through my mind as I wrap my arms around him, squeezing him tightly while he kicks and screams in fear. His cries echo, blending in with the sounds of the destruction around us, haunting me and the memories in my head.
“Easy buddy. Easy.” I say to him, wriggling my coat open, encasing him inside of it. “I’m gonna put this in your mouth. Just breathe.” I add, pushing my regulator in his mouth, rubbing his back to stimulate him to breathe normally. “Here we go. Close your eyes. Don’t look.”
I don’t know if it’s from the tight hug, or the fact that he’s acknowledged that he’s safe with me, but no matter what it is, I’m happy when he slumps against my chest and resigns himself to me. I slap my helmet down on his head, crushing him to me, making sure the visor is down, I turn and face the monster raging at the demolished doorway.
Such a good boy. Here we go.
Shielding him with all the gear I can, I step into hell while his little fists grab at my t-shirt so tightly. A jump out the window for me was so easy compared to what he’s about to go through, but by God he’ll make it out of here unscathed, even if I have to burn on the way.
“You’re doing so good. Keep those eyes closed.”
Holding him tightly I step out into the inferno that is what’s left of the living room. The flames roll up the walls in thick panels of orange, blue and black, hissing and popping under the old paint. The ceiling rattles with the force of the blaze, dropping chunks down on us, landing on my head and shoulders, sizzling in my sweaty hair.
It's a mad dash, as I take off at a run, stepping on and tripping over debris as he clutches to me, his eyes squeezed shut, his little cries coming from around the mouthpiece. It’s ungodly hot, the fire, the air, everything, but I run, keeping my footing as best as I can, tearing us through the flames that taste me again. They lick at me, singeing my exposed face.
The smoke is thick, covering my mouth and nose like a ghostly hand, suffocating the breath from me, keeping me from taking in the air I desperately need, but I continue on, carrying him through the devastation, ignoring the yells and shouts from my brothers who still try to reach his mother.
I’m sorry buddy. Your mom is gone. But don’t turn out like me, okay?
I can’t breathe, and my legs wobble from the exertion, even though I’m fit as fucking sin. The physical work to run through fire and the heat is excruciating, but I continue on, battling the blaze, while fleeing from her. She screams at me, her hot fingers grabbing at us, as I blow through the front door and out into the stairwell.
The hell has reached out here too, the steps each a single burning obstacle as I truck down them, him bouncing in my grasp. My boots clunk on the stairs as I go down and down, dodging the blast of flames that burst from each door, trying to stop me. My face gets licked again, burning my cheek, and I hold onto him tighter, running through it all while I cough and choke on the lack of oxygen. I’m weak, my legs are buckling, my axe has long been forgotten in his bedroom, and as I reach the bottom and the first apartment, debris blocks the door way.
