Page 9

I really don’t have time to try to think how odd that is; that it’s the only window with bars on it. I cup my hand around my face and peer into the dirty window, and my stomach sinks instantly at what I see.
A body of what looks to be a young woman is lying on the floor. The room looks bare except for a mattress. Sirens in the distance break my train of thought as I quickly look for something to try and get into the house with. I pick up a rock from the landscape and move to stand in front of the sliding glass door.
Winding my arm back, I throw some heat on it and watch as the rock leaves my hand and shatters the glass in front of me into pieces. I take my foot and kick away any of the pieces I can, reaching in to unlock and open the sliding door.
“Hello? Anyone here? Your house is on fire! You need to get out!” I yell out.
The house is barely furnished. Through the smoke, I can see a worn-out leather couch that has rips and tears all over it. The white leather is marked and dirty. There is no kitchen table or signs that anyone lives here.
Except that body lying in that disgusting room with the bars on the window.
I place my arm over my face, trying to see through the smoke. My lungs are starting to feel the effects, coughing and gasping a bit for air. I turn to my right and see a small hallway where I think that room, where that body is, may be.
As I quickly make my way through the hall, there is an empty bedroom to my left, with just a headboard leaning against the wall. I walk a few more steps toward a door on my right and see that it’s shut. There are no other doors around me, so this has to be the one that leads to the room I saw from the window.
I touch the knob with the back of my hand just to be sure, finding it’s cool to the touch. Hurriedly, I try to turn the handle, but it’s locked. Fuck. I try using my shoulder as I ram against it, letting out a groan when I realize that was a stupid fucking move.
Wincing at the pain in my arm, I blow out a breath and realize I will have to kick it open.
“Listen, if you can hear me, stay away from the door. I’m going to kick it in!” I yell over the sounds of the flames and wood crackling. That’s when I suddenly realize none of the smoke detectors are going off.
What the fuck?
My hand rubs my chest, and I cough as the air gets thicker with smoke. I need to get this person out of here. With as much strength as I can muster, I take my leg and lift it up. In one swift motion, I kick it against the door. It flies open, and even over the smell of the burning home, the vile smell of this room assaults my nose.
It smells like mold, body odor, and death. Fuck. I feel my lungs burning as I step in, and I immediately see her lying on the floor, her brunette hair oily and filthy. It takes two giant steps to get to her, and I drop to my knees to roll her over.
I have no idea if she is still alive, but I need to get her out of here, and fast. Slipping one arm under her knees and one under her neck, I lift her up and carry her out of the room and back through the sliding door.
Running with her out to the front of the house, I drop her down on a patch of grass on the front lawn. It’s a rarity to have grass here in Las Vegas, but I am thankful for it right now.
I place two fingers under the side of her neck to check for a pulse. It’s faint, but it’s there.
A fire truck and ambulance pull up at the same time I arrive outside. I wave them over to the woman I pulled from the house.
“Here! Help her. She was trapped inside!” I yell out, coughing as I finish.
A paramedic runs over to me. “What’s her name, sir?” She starts to check out the woman.
“I-I don’t know. I just found her inside. She was trapped in one of the rooms,” I wheeze out.
“You went in the house to pull her out?” she exclaims, her eyes looking me over.
I nod. “Yes.”
“Ricky! Get over here! He was inside, too,” she turns around and yells to another paramedic.
Ricky runs over and starts getting his equipment out.
“I’m fine. Really,” I try to insist.
“Sir, you were in that fire. We need to at least get you checked out and—holy shit. You’re Andrew Spencer! Pitcher for the Mavericks.” Ricky’s eyes widen with shock. We may need a paramedic for the paramedic.
“Yeah, listen, I’m fine.” I shake my head and try to stand up.
“I need you to sit down so I can check your vitals.” Ricky pulls out a pulse oximeter and wraps it around my finger. “How’s your breathing? Are you short of breath at all? Any chest pains? I can hear you wheezing a bit.”
“A little short of breath, but I just came out of a fire, so…”