Page 113 of Crash and Burn

Suspended eighteen feet in the air, both men hold on with all the strength they have. Ruiz grips the ladder with his other arm, while Axel reaches up with his free hand and knocks the flaming helmet from his head.

“I’m bringing you down!” Sloane works the controls and starts the ladder’s descension. The end glows red from the heat, and Ruiz’s bare arm bleeds where he and Axel connect.

As Sloane brings the ladder closer to the ground, the remaining crew races across the lawn and prepares to catch both men.

“Don’t you let go!” Ruiz’s face burns red and his shoulder bulges unnaturally as he holds on. “Medic!” He grits his teeth and holds Axel by the sleeve as they slip. “Medic! We need you.”

Luc and Mitchell sprint past me with a spinal board and a bag of supplies that leave me dizzy. They wait beneath the lowering ladder and reach up, like they each think they’ll catch the man who literally burns.

Axel’s shoes smolder, and flames lick along the back of his jacket.

Since everyone is focused on him, I stumble from where I was deposited on the road, onto the lawn. Then I cross, with dots in my vision and a brain that doesn’t move as fast as I’m accustomed. “Axel—”

“I got him!” Nixon grabs hold of Axel’s boots. Then his legs.

It takes me entirely too long to process the fact Axel may not be conscious, which means the only reason he doesn’t slam to the grass is because Ruiz holds on from above. While destroying his own shoulder and damaging his arm, he holds on to the man he claims not to like.

“A little lower!” Nixon calls back to the operator. “Two more feet.”

“That’s it!” Dawson grabs Axel’s hips, and Ruiz releases him so the men below can lower him.

“Let’s go!” Mitch and Luc each grab one end of the board and carry Axel’s unconscious body a full fifty feet from the house, while the remaining firefighters work to get Ruiz down.

The paramedics race straight past me, dizzying in their speed, so I turn on my heels and follow them all the way to the patch of grass outside their ambulance.

“His throat is swollen. It’s restricting his airway.” Mitch slaps a mask over Axel’s blackened face. “But he’s breathing on his own.”

He grabs his bag and tugs out supplies. Instruments I’ll never understand. Tools I’ll never use.

While they’re busy with Axel, I drop to my knees and crawl closer. My vision darkens, so I close one eye and focus with the other, and all the while, a loud buzzing rings in my ears.

“Axel?” My mouth tastes of tears and smoke and dirt. My tongue, dry to the point of pain.

My body hurts, now that we’re out. As the house collapses and the firefighters finally get a little water pumping toward the blaze.

“Hey.” I crawl closer, and whimper when Luc accidentally elbows me while he works. “Axel?” My voice is hoarse and broken. Painful and faint. “Wake up.”

“We have to take him in.” But Luc doesn’t shove me away. He doesn’t force that distance or demand I back up. “You both need to go in for monitoring.”

“Can we…” I rest on my elbows. Too tired. Too sore. “Can we ride in the same ambulance? Is that okay?”

“Technically?” He grunts as they lift Axel’s board onto a stretcher.

They strap him in with practiced movements and lift the stretcher till it stands. They move faster than my sluggish brain will allow. So while they’re all the way up there, I’m still down on the ground, gulping dirty air and fighting through the slush that is my brain.

“Come on.” Taking pity on me, Luc bends and pulls me up by the arms.

I sway on my feet and come to a sharp stop only because of the paramedic’s grip.

“You’re two separate patients. Which is supposed to mean two different buses. But if we leave you here and you smack your head on the pavement,” he rolls his eyes and walks me toward the van. “I’d feel kinda guilty. Climb in.” He helps me up, and watches closely as I slump onto the bench seat and sway.

A single blond brow shoots high on his forehead. “Are you gonna crap out on us?” He prepares the legs of the stretcher and helps his partner wheel Axel in. “Do you think you can hold on till we get to the hospital?”

“I’m okay.” I lick my dry lips and work hard not to let my eyes swivel inside their sockets.

My stomach whooshes with worry, and my heart thunders in my chest, making my dizziness that much worse. But while they fix Axel’s stretcher and Luc climbs in to be with us, Mitchell closes the door and races to the driver’s seat.

“What do you think…” I stop. Breathe. Collect my thoughts and blink a couple of times to work the sting out of my eyes. When that doesn’t help, I close them instead and revel in the darkness. “Wh-what do you think is wrong with him? Will he wake up soon?”

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