Chapter Five #3
The smoke is everywhere now. Every breath feels like it’s tearing into my throat with jagged, blistering heat, but I keep going, half-crawling, half-stumbling.
My free hand scrapes along the metal lockers as I squint through the thickness.
As long as there’s no sign of flames or increasing heat that prickles my skin, I keep pushing forward.
My lungs are screaming, eyes stinging so violently I can’t tell if I’m crying or just being stripped of vision by the acidic haze, but none of it matters.
I’m not leaving without that one connection, that one lifeline, the only piece of sanity that has stayed constant since everything else was ripped apart.
At last, the padlock pushes against my palm. With a shaking hand, I fumble with the numbers, cursing the fog inside my skull that’s slowing me down. I click them into place, knowing the blurred numbers by heart. 06–05–80.
I’ve done it a thousand times, but this time I spin the dial too fast. Wrong.
Ugh, try again. My fingers slip on the metal, the casing becoming slicked with sweat.
I hiss out a sob, my body hunched. I cough so hard, my ribs threaten to crack whilst the pounding of the alarm overhead carves into my skull like a war drum.
Behind me, I hear the scuffle of sneakers on tile, the harsh thud of someone coughing and the crash of something falling over.
I don’t look back. I can’t. My entire focus is reduced to this locker, to this padlock, to the tiny moment between knowing if I have someone in my corner or not.
I spin the dial again, slower this time and I feel rather than hear the clicks.
Finally.
I yank the door open, digging through the inside without care, tossing clothes and cleats and a half-crushed protein bar until my hand closes around the familiar smooth curve of my phone.
I clutch it to my chest like it’s a weapon, a shield, a life preserver in a flood of fire.
My knees buckle in relief as I hold it close. But the relief is short-lived.
A loud crack echoes behind me, something metal collapsing, and then the thud of footsteps running straight toward me.
Everest reappears, dragging his arm across his eyes, face red and glistening with sweat and fury.
He spots me, crouched and clutching my phone like it’s holy, and he actually growls.
“Are you fucking insane?!” he bellows, grabbing my arm and hauling me up so fast my vision reels. “You’re gonna die in here for a phone?”
“It’s none of your damn business! Why are you even still here?” I choke out, coughing hard enough to double over.
“You’re inhaling smoke like it’s oxygen, and you’re still arguing with me?
” His grip tightens. “There’s something seriously wrong with you.
” I don’t have a chance to respond, although my voice is too raw to force out words anyway.
This time, I don’t resist his tugging me along behind him.
I struggle to keep up with his speed, my legs buckling as I struggle to breathe.
Rasping coughs leak from my throat, my body convulsing with the burn inside.
Everest groans, furious at his current predicament, and again I have to question, what is he even doing here?
Suddenly, my world turns on its head as Everest throws me over his shoulder.
My scream is hoarse and pitiful, but he doesn’t stop.
He stumbles back through the locker room, using the walls to brace himself as the smoke gets heavier, the heat scratching at us.
Kicking the door open, Everest turns sharply and that’s when I see it.
The licking flames reaching out from the heart of the fire.
The hallway is ablaze, the heat slamming into my face and shoulders.
Everest does his best to get us away from it but he’s slow, his body weight leaning against the wall for support.
There’s no use him trying to play the hero and neither of us getting out of here.
“Put me down, Everest!” I scream. He refuses, the grip across the back of my thighs turning bruising. I kick and scream and punch his back, but he holds tight, yelling hoarsely every time I try to fight free.
“Save your energy for when I really get my hands on you!” he snarls.
There’s an additional round of cursing, but I can’t quite catch what he’s currently calling me.
I stop trying to listen, more worried about the way he’s slumping down the wall, his entire body trembling beneath me.
I thrash until his body gives out, both of us slamming to the concrete floor.
The fire creeps closer, reaching for us, slowly killing us with its smoky claws.
I buck, attempting to army crawl towards the door that holds our freedom.
Manifesting the cool artificial turf of the pitch beneath my body until I can move no more.
There’s no air in my body and no fight left in my limbs.
All that’s left is to clutch my phone in one hand and reach out to fist Everest’s shirt in the other.
If I’m going down, I’m taking him straight into hell with me.