Page 12 of Melting for the Firefighter

Jordan reaches for Cora, but I’m already shoving the shelf aside and dropping beside her.

“Cora.”

Her face is streaked with soot. Blood runs from her palm, and her eyes are barely open.

I check her airway and breathing. Shallow, but there.

Alive.

The relief almost puts me on my knees.

I slide one arm under her shoulders and the other beneath her thighs.

Her eyelids flutter.

“I’ve got you.”

Her fingers close weakly around my coat.

I lift her.

Jordan snatches the scorched book from the floor and shoves it inside his turnout coat. Then he falls in beside me, knocking back fire as we retrace our path.

The ceiling groans behind us.

The rear door appears through the smoke.

Fresh air.

Night.

People shouting.

I do not stop until I reach the paramedics.

They take Cora from my arms and place her on the stretcher. I rip off my mask and helmet.

Her face looks too pale beneath the soot.

“Cora.”

Her eyes open.

Blue. Dazed. Searching.

They land on me.

“Lance?”

“Right here.”

The medic fits oxygen over her mouth and nose. “We need room.”

I step back because training makes me.

Every other part of me wants to climb onto the stretcher and keep my hands on her until her breathing sounds right.

Jordan comes up beside me and pulls the scorched book from his coat.