Page 115 of Chasing Infinity

“I know. I know. We’ve got to get you out of here,” I maneuver closer to Addison so I can pick her up, shifting her weight to carry her out of here.

I hear sirens in the distance as soon as I’ve got her in my arms. Carefully, I snake through the damaged café, avoiding falling rubble as I walk towards the front door. Burning pieces of the drop ceiling fall in my path, and I do my best to jolt out of the way, but a few wayward pieces singe the exposed skin of my arms. I grit my teeth, but the weight of Addison in my arms encourages me to keep moving. She rests her head on my shoulder, her sweaty forehead pressed against my neck. She’s whimpering in pain against me, and I grip her tighter.

“My parents. They were in the back room,” she mutters against me. A lump forms in my throat at her words. “There’s no way—they were yelling for me, and then they just stopped. The door was locked, and I couldn’t get in—it’s never locked. It got so quiet—Noah, are they—“

“I don’t know,” I tell her, even though I’m pretty confident that’s a lie. “Just hold onto me, Parks. I’ve got you.”

As soon as I walk across the threshold of the café, firefighters and paramedics swarm around us. I walk down the front few stairs and then hand Parks off to one of the professionals. They get her situated on a gurney and immediately cover her mouth with an oxygen mask. Another paramedic offers me one, but I refuse it. She scowls at me and forces it over my face after checking my airway to ensure I didn’t inhale too much smoke. When she’s satisfied, she hands me a blanket and instructs me to sit in the back of the ambulance until the firefighters control the blaze.

I lean against the cool metal of the rig. My eyes glaze over as I stare at the flames flicking out of the windows of the café. A part of me is screaming for me to find Addison. But the adrenaline crashing in my body forces me to stay still and continue to stare.

Firefighters are spraying the fire down, trying to slow the menacing flames. The night is lit up in a mix of yellow and orange from the fire. The blue and red lights from the emergency vehicles reflect off the windows of neighboring buildings. The contrasting colors, mixed with the smoke, make my head throb.

I’m unsure how long I sit there, staring blankly into the wreckage. It may have been minutes, or it may have been hours. At some point, I register the sound of another ambulance turning on its sirens and leaving the scene–probably the paramedics taking Addison to the hospital. The fire department finally controls the fire enough for a few firefighters to run into the building. I close my eyes, press my forehead into my hands and attempt to focus on breathing.

“When the boys checked it out, they didn’t see anything unusual or notice any gasoline smell. You know how old this building is, probably just an old wire sparking in the wrong place at the wrong time.” I look up at two firefighters standing close to me, one stout with graying hair and the other looking fresh-faced like a rookie.

“There’s nothing left of that back room, so we can’t really say what was back there,” the rookie says.

I take the opportunity to chime in. “The back room was where they got all their deliveries. There was a bunch of cardboard boxes back there.”

The men look at each other and nod as if that was the missing piece to their puzzle. “That would make sense then. A wire probably sparked and landed on the cardboard, then before they knew it, the whole place was engulfed.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t arson?” I question. The men exchange another glance and face me with a look that says, ‘Kid, you watch too many TV shows.’

“Nah, just an accident. You did a good thing tonight here, kid. You should be proud of yourself,” he says, leaning towards me and patting me on the shoulder before taking a few steps away, clearly done talking to me.

However, they don’t walk far enough away, and I can still hear them discussing the situation. “Couldn’t be arson, right?” the younger firefighter questions.

“No. The guys said the doors to the back storeroom were locked, so no one could have gotten in to set the place up. Probably just an accident. A loss, nonetheless.”

I frown, gripping the edges of my blanket closer around my shoulders. An accident? That’s it? Something so simple caused this disaster? I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to this, but I have no proof, and my mind is too fuzzy to place a finger on what it is.

“Have you told anyone else yet? Meaning should we make a statement or—”

“Definitely not,” the older fireman says bluntly. “No, until we know more, this needs to stay strictly confidential. People died in this fire. I don’t want to spread anything around until we know all the facts. Might take a bit before the detectives can make it out here to say for sure.”

I tune them out after that.People died in this fire. The firefighters didn’t mention them specifically by name, but they might as well have.

Mr. Parks. Mrs. Parks. Addison’s parents.

Dead.

The world spins around me, and nausea sinks into my gut. I suspected as much when Addison was mumbling about them to me. But hearing it confirmed makes me want to vomit. What is she going to do? They were her only family. Where is she going to go?

I begin to spiral, my mind mulling over this development. I was with the Parks just last night, having ice cream and laughing at her father’s terrible jokes. And now they’re dead, just like that.

“Hey,” a familiar voice says next to me. I look up and blink at Jordan. Caleb is right behind him. Their faces are grim as Jordan sits beside me on the rig. Caleb stands right in front of us, blocking my view of the firefighters still a few feet away. I forgot my friends were here. “Did you get her out? I saw you carrying someone, but I couldn’t determine who it was. Is she okay?”

“Yeah,” I tell him, my voice heavy. “She was—she got burned pretty badly on her arm, so they’re taking her to the hospital to check her out.”

“And her parents?”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat and shake my head. Jordan sighs next to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, man.”

I allow him to leave his hand there for only a minute, taking all the comfort I can. Neither of them says anything else. They just sit there with me. The weight of the situation falls over us like a heavy blanket, and there are no words.

After what feels like an eternity, a commotion down the street catches my eye. A broad figure in a black suit excuses himself past the yellow caution tape and pushes past the people standing around. The crowd makes space for him, finally letting him through. His cunning eyes take in the scene before landing on me sitting on the back of the ambulance. He stalks towards me.

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