Prologue #2
Someone yells at me to stop, but I keep moving, keep running. I have a damn cat to rescue. I push the front door of the lobby with more force than I should, running back into the burning building. Every instinct inside me screams that I'm an idiot, and every logical part of my brain agrees.
It's a cat. Not even my cat. I’m doing something foolishly stupid, and for what, exactly? I don’t know. All I know is that this is something I have to do, whether I understand it or not.
Heat slams into me; the air is much thicker now as I make my way up the stairs. I move faster when there’s no one in my way, and I’m not carrying a tiny body out of the smoke.
I grasp my shirt collar and pull it up over my mouth, trying to keep from inhaling the raging smoke. It does very little to help, but at least it’s something.
When I step onto the landing of the fifth floor, I head straight for Melissa’s apartment. The door’s still open. I hear voices shouting from above. Firefighters. They must be working from the top floor down.
I rush inside.
"Cooper!” I yell out like the damn cat’s going to answer.
The living room and kitchen are empty. I move through the apartment, checking the bathroom and bedrooms. Not a detailed check, but I’m still calling for their stupid cat.
The smoke burns my eyes until tears stream down my face. I can barely see my hand in front of me. And I’ve come to realize this is a lost cause. Either Cooper is out of the building and has fled somewhere else, or he’s hiding somewhere and refusing to come when I call for him.
The sirens outside are muffled now; a muted alarm that sounds more like a ghost than a warning.
Something crashes upstairs, and I hear the muffled groaning of the building as the structure gives itself over to the heat of the fire.
The cat's gone. This place isn't going to last, and I need to get out of here before I’m a goner.
I stumble back into the hallway, my legs already feeling strangely heavy as my head becomes dizzy. There’s too much smoke. Too much heat….
A dark blur shoots past me. Gray fur. Tail straight up.
"You've got to be kidding me," I mumble to myself.
The damn cat runs right past my apartment, headed straight to the end of the hallway and a dead end.
I chase after it. The stupid ball of fur darts left, then right, leading me deeper into the flames.
"C'mere!" I hiss softly before finally diving at it. My hands close around the furball and I hold Cooper tightly against my chest as he squirms, trying to break free.
"Got you. Now let’s get out of here, and back to that tiny girl crying her eyes out for you."
But my voice doesn’t seem to have an effect, as Cooper’s so spooked his claws sink into my forearm. Pain flashes through me and I let out a yelp. My grip loosens on him and the cat launches free once more, and runs as fast as it can toward the end of the hallway and the stairs.
"You little asshole!"
Fuck it. The cat’s heading in the right direction, and obviously doesn’t want my help. I need to get the hell out of here. I was an idiot to run back in here in the first place. Maybe I should check myself into the hospital for some psychological testing.
I start to head toward the stairwell and a deafening crack echoes above me. My head tilts backward and time slows.
The ceiling caves in. A massive section crashes down between me and the stairwell, trapping me on the fifth floor. The impact throws flames everywhere.
I stumble backward frantically, tripping over my own feet, and fall to the floor. Flames rise in front of me. The only exit is gone. I’m fucking trapped, all because of a little girl’s tears and her damn cat.
"No..." My voice comes out barely louder than a whisper. There’s no way out unless I walk right through the flames. My heart pounds in my chest and I panic.
This is it.
I’m going to die. Not because I was brave or because of old age. Because of my stupidity. Over a fucking cat. That isn't even mine.
The smoke thickens, and every breath I take becomes harder than the last. My knees are weak and the hallway tilts in my vision, the floor shaking beneath me.
“Help!” I scream as loud as I can as a coughing fit overtakes me. I yell over and over, but it’s no use.
The world starts to sway. No, I think that's me. I move away from the flames, over to the wall, resting my shoulder against it. There's nowhere left for me to go. All I can do is pray that someone saves me now.
My vision blurs around the edges. Large black circles creep inward, dimming the world around me. I can’t breathe. This is it. No one’s coming for me. I’m going to die.
I slide down the wall. Everything sounds distant, muffled, like I’m underwater. I think about my parents. The birthdays I’m going to miss. That I’m never going to grow old. Have a family.
The life I thought I was going to have is over. There’s nothing left but the cold blackness.
The darkness closes in, and I slip in and out of consciousness.
Then, just when I’ve given up all hope, I hear voices. Faint. Muffled.
"Over here!" someone shouts.
Something heavy sounds against the floor, and I fear the tile below me is going to give way and crash; that the flames are going to swallow me up whole.
But it doesn’t. The sound echoes; like boots pounding, getting louder the closer they get.
Am I imagining them?
"We’re coming for you. Hold on!" a deep masculine voice cuts through everything.
My eyes flicker open as dark shapes move through the smoke. A figure drops beside me. Broad shoulders. Oxygen mask. Turnout gear. Gloved hands grip my shoulders. My eyes close again, too heavy to keep open.
"Stay with me!" He says.
I try. God, I really try.
He shakes my shoulders. “I need you to wake up.” I nod, then open my eyes.
Everything is fuzzy. His face is hidden behind his breathing mask. I can't see his eyes. Then my gaze drifts lower.
To the name on his jacket.
Lawson.