28. Rufino
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Rufino
I crawl inside the once modern and neat apartment, searching everywhere for her. The living room is turning black while smoke rubs against the walls and ceiling. A layer of ash coats the sofa, drifting like snowflakes from above where the ceiling is on fire.
“Verity.” I scream her name again but there is no answer.
I heard her. She has to be in here somewhere.
Standing up I run from room to room. A small kitchen engulfed in flames. I can’t even step inside it because the wall of heat is too much. But she’s not in there, anyway.
The bathroom is crumbling inward. The shower is filled with shattered glass after part of the ceiling crashed down.
In a back room I find what I’m looking for.
There is a guard crouched low on the ground, struggling to breathe as he leans against a heavy locked door. The security on the door tells me it’s a holding cell. Verity has to be trapped in there. Her father was using this safe house as her prison and I set it all on fire.
My blood boils as I draw the knife from my ankle strap and approach the guard.
The anger burns within me for putting Verity in such a dangerous situation.
I’m angry because I don’t know if she’s still alive.
I’m angry because if I killed her, if I hurt her - I will never forgive myself.
The guard mumbles something, his eyes are bloodshot and watering. He clutches at his throat then in shock he sees me crouched in front of him.
He tries to reach for the gun lying on the floor at his side, but his movements are heavy and uncoordinated.
I lean towards him and with one swift arch of my arm I shove the knife through is lower jaw, up into his skull before he screams.
His body twitches as blood runs over the handle of the knife, down the front of his shirt. I kick his body out of the way so that I can open the door.
I hear her coughing from behind the secured door.
I’ve got to get in there now.
Panic takes over and I search the guards dead body for the key. If I can’t find it, I will shoot the locks off, but I fear hitting her with a stray bullet. I don’t know where she is on the other side. She could be leaning right up against the door the same way the guard was.
Relief soaks through me when my fingers touch the keys inside the pocket of his jacket.
I grab them, the metal is hot in my hands while I search for the right one.
When I get it I shove it into the first lock. My eyes are watering so much it’s hard to see. I get the second lock open and shove my body weight against the door.
It opens easily. She isn’t close by.
I squint towards a bed, fear surges when I see the ceiling has collapsed onto it and the bedding is on fire beneath thick chunks of burning plaster.
In blind panic I run to the bed and start pulling the ceiling board off it. Searching for her. Grabbing at burning blankets, the coals, and flames bite into my skin. Salty sweat is dripping into my eyes.
My skin is charring, dry and hot.
The smoke is thicker in here and my lungs are screaming for air.
Squinting against the grey veil.
Thick red flames are dancing on the ceiling and up the walls.
If she was on the bed when the ceiling fell - she will be dead.
Verity will be dead.
My search turns to rage as I kick the bed and send the last pieces of wood splintering across the floor towards another door.
Another door.
I run towards that, but my legs buckle beneath me.
I’m dying.
My body is breaking apart with lack of oxygen and overwhelming heat.
Pushing myself up again I move slower. I can’t save her if I kill myself first.
The handle is too hot to touch so I kick it and when it flies open flames shoot out of the bathroom, searching for oxygen in this room.
That’s what happens when you open a window into a burning room. Oxygen pours in, which you are desperate for, but all it does is feed the fire.
Verity is not in here either.
This is impossible. She has to be somewhere.
“Verity.” I scream again, staying low and hunched, keeping my head beneath the building layer of smoke over the ceiling.
Back in the other room I see a chair, toppled over near the window.
And then I see her.
Verity is lying on the floor beneath the window. Her body is still. Lifeless.
“No.” I shout, standing up and running to her. Ignoring the pain in my lungs and the fire licking at my skin.
“No.”
I collapse onto the floor next to her and roll her onto her back so that I can see her face.
I can’t tell if she’s breathing.
There’s no time.
I must get her out of here before if it’s too late - if it isn’t already.
Lifting her in my arms I cradle her against my chest and move towards the door.
As I walk through it part of the frame collapses and a chunk of burning wood smacks into my face. I turn my head just in time for it to only hit my cheek and not my eye.
I can’t even feel it.
I can’t feel anything anymore except for the anguish of losing her.
I run, stumble and get up, carrying her out of the apartment and into the hallway.
It is a tunnel of death.
An endless pipe of fire resembling the belly of a snake, or a dragon -
I can’t do this.
I have to do this.
Glancing down at her face, her cheeks black with soot and her lips so dry and flaked - I have a renewed sense of urgency and determination.
My beautiful wife.
I have found you.
I have killed you.
With a guttural scream of rage and hope and fear and hate and determination - I run.
Shielding her with my arms, turning my body into the flames - I run.
The other side of the building closer to the elevator is not burning as severely.
The fire has not reached here yet and I thank every star in the entire galaxy when I see the elevator is still open and waiting for me.
Inside I take desperate breaths of air. It’s still hot. Muggy. Smokey. But it’s air. Better than what I was breathing before.
I am close to death, but I know she is closer.
Punching my finger against the G, I step deeper into the elevator and crouch onto my knee, resting her on the ground.
“Verity.” I say, touching her face.
“Verity don’t do this. Don’t give up. I’m so sorry.”
Her chest is moving.
Her eyes are dancing beneath closed lids as though she was dreaming.
“Verity.” I scream louder.
The elevator doors close, and I stare down the passage, disintegrating faster and faster as the flames lick towards us.
Another explosion shakes the elevator just as the doors close and it jolts, slipping on the cable that’s holding us seventeen stories above the ground.
I grab Verity into my arms again and hold her cradled against my chest.
We move and another explosion shakes the building.
The fire has dripped through the floor boards and onto each level below. Levels I tipped bottles of gasoline into.
As we pass one floor, a flame touches one of those bottles and the explosion smacks up against the metal doors.
I turn my body away from the doors and the heat of it blasts against my back. The cable slips again and we plunge into free fall.
I bury my face in her ash covered hair and whisper “I love you.”
She moans softly.
My heart races. We are falling to our death.
The elevator jerks as it tilts to the side and gets wedged between the walls of the shaft.
One cable has snapped. The other is holding us by a thread.
One wrong movement and we will plummet to our deaths.
Verity moans and shifts in my arms.
“Verity.” I call her name, desperation dripping from my voice. “Please be ok.” I beg her.
“Rufino.” An aching whisper of hope. “Are you really here?” She chokes, coughing dry ash.
I laugh, tears streaming over my ashen skin.
“I’m here. I’m real.”
She shakes her head and reaches her hand up to touch her throat.
“I’m dreaming.” Her voice rustles like dried leaves dancing in a soft breeze.
“Yes, my love. This is a dream. When you wake up, you’ll be somewhere safe. I promise you. I’ll get us out of here.”
Above us, right in the elevator shaft, another explosion takes place, and the force drives the metal box we are trapped in harder against the walls.
We will not fall any further, but we are not going to able to get to the ground this way anymore.
Setting Verity on the tilted floor of the elevator I scramble up towards the doors, one is bent and ever so slight open. I pry my fingers into the gap and scream with effort as I pull it apart. At first it won’t move. Stuck. Trapping us in a metal oven of certain death.
I glance over my shoulder at Verity. She is unconscious again.
I will get her out of here.
I pull again, my muscles strain and flex and scream until the door shifts and slides open. Just enough for us to get out.
Moving quickly, I scoop her into my arms and lift her out through the crack.
We are stuck half way between one of the floors. I have no idea how far we fell and how many levels we are above the ground.
I have to lift her up over my shoulders to glide her body onto the floor.
She moans and sparks glitter above our heads. I duck down with fright. The elevator shifts. Perhaps it is not as stable as I thought.
Verity is out, lying on the carpet. Breathing gently.
I reach up and grab the edge of the floor, pulling myself up onto it.
Kicking my legs through the elevator shifts again and another explosion somewhere above us makes it shudder and move.
I scream, pulling myself the last few inches through the door just as it breaks free of the wall and starts falling again.
A gust of air whips over us as it sucks the elevator down.
I close my eyes, counting the seconds until I hear the loud, shattering crash as it smashes into the ground floor.
Six.
Six seconds.
Which means we are six floors from the ground.
I hear the loud rumble before I realize what’s happening.
A ball of fire is rushing down the open elevator shaft as fresh oxygen rushes from the ground upwards to greet the flames on the top floors.
They transformed it into a giant flame thrower.
The sound is deafening.
I roll over her, my body covering her as flames blast from the partially open doors.
They spit in a thick stream above my head.
My jacket is on fire. I can feel it scratching my skin.
“Rufino.” She screams beneath me.
“Don’t move.” I scream back.
When the fire pulls back into the shaft I roll off her, onto my back to smother the flames.
I’m hurting everywhere. But I don’t care.
Verity tries to sit up, but she can hardly move.
She rolls onto her side, coughing, and spitting ash.
I pull her into my arms.
“I’m going to get us out of here.” I say. “I’ll get us out.”