Page 31 of SapphicLover69
“Get away! Over here!”
The service room couldn’t have been over twelve or fifteen feet long, and only half as wide. This spot was the furthest from the blaze.
She rushed to me, her face sheet-white with sweat pouring down it. It was hot, all right, but my biggest concern at the moment was air.
Then I saw somebody walking by the main hallway and I banged my fist on the door, screaming, “Help! Open the door!”
Two women hurried over, shock and dismay stricken across their expressions. They started yelling too, and both tried the door, but it was also locked on their side. I coughed, first once, then again, and raised a hand to cover my mouth. Blinking the sting of smoke from my eyes, I snapped at Winter.
“You’re the engineer—how do we get out of here!”
Traumatizing energy had her feet tapping up and down like she was running in place while she hugged herself. She appeared like a fawn who had lost her mother and didn’t know which way to turn. The sharp tone of my demand seemed to snap her out of the trance, and she peered behind her at the exterior metal door, then back at the one with the two horrified women on the other side. One stayed while the other dashed away, presumably to get help.
“See those hinges?” Spinning, Winter’s back leaned into me as she pointed across the burning carpet. “They’re on the inside. If we can pop the pins, we can yank the door off and escape to the terrace.”
I wrapped my arms around her, planted a quick kiss on her cheek, and cried, “You’re brilliant!” Releasing her from my sticky hold, I asked, “How do we do that?” I knew they were searing hot and, even if they weren’t, I probably couldn’t just pull them out with my fingers.
“A flathead screwdriver!” Winter spun back to me with hope and inspiration, then covered her mouth and fell into a coughing fit.
“Elaine, please tell me you have a screwdriver in your purse!” I crouched beside her, hoping beyond reason she carried everything imaginable in her silly bag. I could tell she was fading fast, and it tore at my soul like vicious raptor claws. She couldn’t die—not because of me!
It had happened in a blink and was so unexpected that the scenario didn’t seem real. Maybe it was a dream. But would smoke burn my throat this bad in a dream? Would my skin feel like it was blistering under an intense noonday sun at the beach? Never had I been in such a horrific dilemma, and I didn’t care to be ever again—if I survived this one.
With tears in her eyes and a pale, bluish pallor to her face, she shook her head with a look of anguish. Pulling the neck of hershirt away from her mouth for a second, she squeaked out, “I didn’t bring it.”
My heart sank. We finally had a plan that would work and no tool to implement it. Maybe the fire department would get here in time, yet the aggressive flames crept closer and sucked oxygen from the room like a maniacal sponge, greedy, vindictive, and laughing at us with an awful hiss.
“There’s steel flats in my back brace, like a corset has,” Elaine got out before a high-pitched whistle chased her words. She clamped a hand to her chest and coughed before issuing another wheeze. “Quick. Pull one out,” she directed. She twisted her torso and pawed at the hem of her blouse.
Shifting around behind her, I yanked up the blouse and examined the unfamiliar accessory. Winter was immediately at my side, picking at the fabric with nimble fingers to get hold of a metal stay and pluck it from its bone channel.
“Here.” She handed me a narrow strip of steel about a half-inch wide and ten inches long. The tip may not have been as thin as a screwdriver’s, and the floppy body of the flat certainly wasn’t strong and stiff, but maybe it would work.
The next thing I knew, Winter pulled off her T-shirt and her glasses. With a decisive snap, she broke off both earpieces at their hinges. Then she ripped a strip from the hem of her shirt and used it to bind the plastic glasses stems around the flimsy strip of the back brace stay, which I placed back in her hand when she reached for it. In ten seconds, she fashioned a makeshift screwdriver.
“I’m not tall enough to get the top one,” she admitted as she thrust the tool into my hands. “Take the rest of this T-shirt to protect yourself. If it’s not working or you’re getting burnt, come back.” Raising an elbow to her mouth, she coughed again.
She looked different without her glasses. I could see her eyes with crystal clarity, both the emotions they conveyed and thedry, red irritation from the smoke. There was so much I wanted to do, to tell her; there wasn’t time.When we get out of here,I silently promised.
I hopped around burning streaks and patches in the carpet and used Winter’s shirt to beat down a spot in the corner near the door. Inserting the flat end under the hinge pin’s lip, I jimmied it up. It moved! Encouraged, I worked faster until it was loose enough to grab with my fingers.
“Ouch!” Too hot. I gripped it again with Winter’s T-shirt and tugged until the pin came free. An exuberant wave of accomplishment spurred me ahead to the middle hinge, which popped just as easily. One to go.
The top one was about as high as I could reach—over my head where I couldn’t see what I was doing. Add to that the severe, concentrated heat radiating from the fire burning on the ceiling, and my hopes waned.You must do this, Mary!I ordered myself.If you don’t, you and your friends could die before help arrives. They’re counting on you. Just do it!
I ripped what remained of Winter’s shirt in half and coiled each piece around my hands. Then, fitting the improvised lever below the lip of the hinge pin, I wiggled and pried, and fraction by fraction, it moved. As seconds dragged like hours, I feared it was taking too long. Still, I shimmied and shoved, jammed, and forced that pin until it fell to the floor with a thud.
Winter was immediately at my side and together we pulled the door a few feet away from the doorjamb. The influx of fresh air allowed me a free breath, but it also fueled the conflagration that burst into life with renewed vigor. “Elaine,” I huffed out.
We raced the few feet to where she leaned in the corner of the least consumed portion of the room. Winter grabbed her by one arm, and I clutched her other one. “Get your feet under you while we pull you up,” I instructed. Feebly, she obeyed. Engulfed by a sea of hungry flames, we half-dragged Elaine through theoutside door onto the safety of the patio. By then, the fire roared. Smoke billowed out and tendrils of flame licked through the opening, but we kept moving across the tiles, past the wrought-iron tables and chairs, beyond the planters with their cheerful flowers, to the decorative tree hedge that lined a brick fence hemming us in.
We set Elaine down on the top of a short garden wall. “Relax, Elaine,” Winter cooed. “Just relax and let yourself breathe easy. We’re all safe and help will be here in a minute. Your brace stay saved the day!”
I watched her comfort Elaine as I tried to calm my racing heartbeat. Winter was in a white, cotton knit sports bra, and I allowed a smile of appreciation to touch my lips. Her breasts were perfect. She was perfect. And we were alive.
“Your glasses,” I mentioned to Winter, not sure what to say.
“I have another pair,” she replied as she fussed with Elaine’s shirt to set it straight. “I always carry backups.”
