Run Girl Run by Willow Rose

Author:Willow Rose [Rose, Willow]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BUOY MEDIA LLC
Published: 2020-02-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 33

Flames were licking the windows of the house. A window popped as we approached it, sounding like gunfire. The thick smoke was hanging deep from the ceiling, emerging through doorways and the vents. The heat greeting us was immense, like a brick wall, the air thick with toxic components from the burning synthetic materials like furniture and paint inside the house.

A couple of neighbors were outside in their front yards, looking at it, and in the distance, I could hear sirens. I had talked to dispatch, and now the firetrucks were approaching.

“Do you think whoever lives there was home when the fire started?” Jean asked.

“I hope not,” I said. “With a fire like this, you’d have barely two or three minutes to get out.”

As we stood there, staring at the flames, listening to the sound of them devouring the old house, we heard a sound. One so terrifying, it made my heart stop.

“Did you hear that?” I asked.

Jean gave me a look of distress.

“Yes. It sounds like…knocking.”

“Someone’s in there,” I said. “Hammering on a door somewhere.”

I looked around me, realizing the firetrucks were still at least a minute out. If this person, whoever it was, was trapped inside, there wasn’t time to waste. A minute could mean the difference between life and death.

“I’m going in,” I said.

“Harry, no,” Jean said. “You’ll only get yourself killed; the smoke alone is poisonous. You know better than this. Harry, are you listening?”

I wasn’t. I had already left her and was rushing up toward the house. Thick smoke emerged from all the passageways behind the front door. The door handle had to be too hot to touch, so instead, I kicked the wood again and again. It broke into pieces, and thick warm smoke hit my face. I turned away but was still blinded by it. I coughed as the heat forced me to my hands and knees.

“Hello? Is someone in here? Hallo?” I yelled.

I crawled forward into the house, staying close to the walls. I had been through training programs for situations like this when I was just a young police officer in the force, but that was years ago now. Yet I remembered the important stuff, like staying low, and as I was inside, I found an umbrella in the hallway, grabbed it, and used it to sweep the floors since I couldn’t rely on my eyes. They were burning badly, and I kept them shut most of the time while searching the surroundings.

Then the umbrella hit something.

There was something about the sound a human body made when being hit with an object. It was one you’d recognize anywhere. I knew I would, and at this moment, I did.

I reached out my hands and felt to be certain. My fingers touched clothing. The feeling was sickening. There was no mistake; this was a person, a body. The question was whether this person was still alive.

I grabbed ahold of the body and pulled it up on my back, then began to carry it out through the thick smoke.

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