Chapter 25: Through Smoke and Flame
The yell was weak, drowned out by the blaze's roar and the heavy shroud of smoke, yet it was sufficient. Ryan was quick to act—he pivoted abruptly, his heavy equipment making the movement appear more cumbersome than it actually was, and dashed down the hallway toward the noise.
I pursued, my legs advancing before my thoughts could keep pace, the oppressive warmth draining my energy with each stride. It wasn't merely hot—it was overwhelming. The flames were not merely fire; they were sentient, breathing alongside us, attempting to take every ounce of oxygen from us.
Ryan crashed his shoulder against a door, pushing it open with the ruthless skill of someone who had accomplished this countless times prior. The door creaked and cracked beneath his weight, swinging ajar to unveil a horror.
Inside, the room felt like a furnace. Fire danced upon the wallpaper, consuming all that it encountered. The ceiling hung dangerously, darkened with soot, poised to cave in at any moment. In the turmoil, I noticed them—three silhouettes.
Two adults lie sprawled on the floor, motionless. A man and a woman, their garments scorched, skin bubbled from the heat. In between them stood a child, around eight or nine years old, hacking violently, tears running down a soot-covered face, eyes filled with fear.
Ryan cursed under his breath. "Damn it. Three."
We only had two of us. Protocol was clear—we could carry one person each, get them to the main stairwell where the rest of the crew would take over. But that left one person behind.
Ryan's jaw clenched as he did the mental math. I could see it—he was calculating the odds, the risks, trying to make the impossible decision. But I didn't wait.
I moved.
Before he could say a word, I was already lifting the unconscious woman over my right shoulder. The child was lighter, fragile even, coughing and squirming as I hoisted them onto my left.
Pain shot through me instantly. My body protested under the sudden weight, the awkward distribution making it hard to balance. The heat pressed against me like a living thing, trying to sap my strength.