Archer
The urgency in JR’s voice as he yelled over the phone that they were under attack had me slipping on my boots and charging for the door. I was barely awake, having only just gotten to sleep after three days of trying and failing to shut off the demons in my head.
But when I heard the sirens in the distance and the rapid gunfire, I didn’t think of anything but getting to JR’s side.
I snatched my keys off the table and ran out of the apartment, nearly falling on the stairs in my rush to get out of there.
Flinging the door open, I only made it a few steps before I smelled the acrid scent clinging to the air.
Flames licked at the sky from the apartment building across the street from me.
It was already engulfed, and anyone stuck inside would not be getting out without some help.
“Cheyenne,” I murmured, immediately abandoning my plans to rush to JR’s aid.
I could hear the sirens in the distance, but there was no waiting. Residents swarmed around the outside of the building, choking and gagging on the thick smoke.
“Cheyenne!” I called out, searching the crowd for her petite frame, but she was nowhere in sight. I ran up to the older couple I knew to be her neighbors. “Did Cheyenne get out?”
The old man shook his head. “The door was stuck. I couldn’t get it open.”
My heart slammed in my chest as I looked up to the third floor at the smoke pouring out of the windows. Flames were already shooting out of the roof. There was no chance she had escaped on her own if she was trapped in there.
I ran for the door, pulling my shirt tight around my face as I leapt through the flames, hissing as the fire kissed my face. The inner door was already melted and burned to a crisp, making it easier to get inside to the stairwell.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I didn’t feel the give in the stairs until it was too late. The boards collapsed under my weight and I started to free fall, reaching out at the last second to grab onto the stair above me.
My fingers ached as I held tight to the wood.
With a single glance over my shoulder, I knew that if I didn’t get up there now, I never would.
I could feel myself slipping, barely holding on.
Working my way slowly toward the banister, I hoped it would hold my weight and that the whole structure wasn’t already compromised.
Sweat slicked my palms, making it impossible to keep my grip. My hand shot out, grabbing the spindle just as I slipped. My breathing turned ragged as I stared at the flames below. With every inhale, smoke burned my lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe.
But I used every ounce of strength I had and swung my leg up to the stair, hoisting myself up. As soon as I was safely on the stairs, I took off once again, choking on the acrid smoke. Tearing my shirt from my chest, I wrapped it around my face, hoping to buy myself just a few more minutes of air.
When I got to Cheyenne’s door, I understood what the old man was saying. It wasn’t just blocked. There was a chain wrapped around her door handle, over to the pipe on the wall, effectively locking her in.
I slammed my boot into the side of the door by the hinges, knowing that even if I were to get the other side open, it would still be locked by the damn chain. I needed a damn saw to cut the door in half, but it wasn’t like I had one of those lying around.
“Cheyenne!” I shouted, my voice choked as another swarm of smoke filtered into the hallway.
I slammed my boot into the door over and over again, until finally, the door cracked.
I was so close. With my leg throbbing, I resorted to flinging my entire body at the door, using my shoulder as a wrecking ball.
When I finally fell through the splintered door, it took me a moment of searching the hazy interior to realize she wasn’t in the main room.
I crawled on all fours, searching desperately for her. When I got to her room, I found her lying on the floor, passed out. My fingers slid over her skin for a pulse, and while it was there, it was thready. There was no way I could get her downstairs. Not with the staircase missing.
That left the window.
But as I staggered over to them, I realized why she hadn’t tried to escape. Bars covered the window, leaving no chance to get out. I had no choice but to carry her downstairs and pray someone could help me get her out.
A fit of coughing overtook me as I grabbed a thick shirt from her dresser and draped it over her face, keeping most of the smoke away. Tying it around the back of her head, I hoisted her over my shoulder and made my way to the door.
The fire had reached the inside of the apartment now, and the flames were hotter the closer I got. I hissed in pain as my skin singed under their heat, but I pushed through.
If I didn’t get us out now, we would both die in this fire.
I only made it down one flight before my energy was sapped. I could barely stay on my feet, and my vision swam as I stumbled on the steps.
But the sound of voices calling outside made me push to my feet and fight for every last scrap of air. Grasping the railing, I held tight as I kept my other arm wrapped around the back of Cheyenne’s thighs.
I never prayed for anything in my life. Not when my old man kicked me out of the house. Not when I was living on the streets, and not after my first kill. But right now, I prayed that Cheyenne was still alive.
With every step I took, I remembered the saucy looks she shot my way, her incessant flirting, and every time I turned her down and had to see the sad look in her eyes. All of it pushed me forward, kept me going when I felt like I would fall.
Until finally, I was at the last set of stairs. We were too high for me to drop her down. There was a good chance she’d break her neck, or something would cleave her in two.
I lowered her to the ground, hovering over her as I whispered her name.
“Cheyenne. I need you to wake up.” My throat scratched painfully as I forced the words out, and then there was no point in talking because I could barely get a word out without choking.
I sat on the top step and pulled her into my arms, holding her close to me. If we were going to die here, she would die in my arms, with me protecting her until the very end.
Smoke clouded my vision as I leaned back against the wall, fighting for every last drop of air. I knew I would pass out soon, and I hoped that it would be quick, that Cheyenne wouldn’t feel a thing as the fire consumed us.
“Archer!”
I rolled my head to the side, sure I saw someone standing below us.
“Archer!”
He waved at me, his arms motioning for something, but things were growing dim in my sight.
“You have to lower her down!”
Lower her down.
My eyes drifted to the woman in my lap. Lower her down.
Get her to the man down there. I fought the urge to go to sleep, to close my eyes and let the fire take me.
With every last ounce of strength inside me, I grabbed Cheyenne by the wrists and held on tight as I slid her over the edge of the stairs.
I caught myself on the banister just as I was about to topple over, holding on with only one hand. The pressure suddenly released in my shoulder as the man below caught her, then rushed with her out the front door.
With no energy left, I fell forward into the inferno. I closed my eyes and prayed for it to swallow me whole.