Page 14 of Never Alone
I just had to prepare myself to be in a room with him.
I turned on my side and made myself sleep.
I woke up coughing.
It was dark. The room smelled wrong. The smoke alarm in the hallway was screaming. Noah was coughing, too, in his bed across from mine, sitting up with his fists in his eyes.
"Noah!"
"Mom!"
"Get up! Get up, baby. We're going."
I crossed to him in two steps and pulled him out of the bed. He was nine and tall for his age, but I didn't care. I held him against my chest and ran for the door.
I dropped to a crouch and opened it.
The hallway was orange. Smoke was pouring up the stairs from the kitchen below. The heat hit my face before I had taken a step.
I shut the door. Judging by the sound of sirens approaching outside, someone had already called for help.
"They're coming, baby. Help is coming."
The window was the only way out.
I pulled the comforter off the bed and wedged it along the gap under the door. I sat Noah on the floor against the wall by the bathroom, got down beside him, pulled his T-shirt up over his nose, pulled mine up over mine, and held his hand. We waited.
A fire engine pulled up to the house. I could hear voices on the lawn. Boots. The radio chatter that meant a working fire.
Then Gregory's voice—high, frightened—”Tessa and Noah are still up there! Master bedroom!”
A ladder hit the wall outside. Glass broke. A firefighter came through the window—helmet, mask, air pack, the size of him filling the room.
He was on us in two strides. He went down on one knee in front of me. He said something through the mask I couldn't make out, but I understood. He held his arms out for Noah.
I had to make myself give Noah up. My hands didn't want to let go. I made them.
He took Noah against his chest the way I'd been holding him. He turned and went back to the window.
Noah looked at me over his shoulder. Wide-eyed. Scared.
"I'm right behind you, baby. I'm right behind you."
He stepped over the sill onto the ladder with Noah against him. I lost sight of them.
I stayed on the floor against the wall where Noah and I had been waiting. I made myself breathe shallow. I listened for him on the ladder going down. I told myself, in my head, the same sentence over and over.
Get him down. Hand him off. Come back for me.
I waited for what felt like a minute, maybe two. Then I heard him coming back up the ladder.
He came through the window again, crossed to me, went down on one knee, and said something that I thought wascome on.
He picked me up. One arm under my knees, one arm behind my back. I put my face against the side of his neck above the gear and held on. Something in me let go.
He carried me to the window. He stepped over the sill and started down the ladder, using one arm to guide us down. The cold air hit my legs. I felt the rungs through his boots. The smoke poured out of the broken window above us as we went down.
My feet hit the grass.
