Chapter 5: Into Fire

Everything was blurry. He shook his head, which brought the world into stark, painful focus. Detective Hayman was picking himself up. There were screams all around them. Eric pushed himself up on his feet. He’d been thrown down the steps of the building, but it hadn’t been that far. At worst, he’d probably have some bruises on his elbows. That, and probably some mild hearing damage. The explosion had blasted him with a wall of air and heat. 

“Wh— What happened?” Eric said. Nobody answered. Hayman seemed disoriented as well, and was clutching his arm. He held it straight down, which wasn’t a good sign. “Mike? What’s going on? Are you okay?” They looked at the building. 

“I’m— I’m okay, kid. I think someone in the cleaning crew might still be inside,” he said. Eric’s heart got stuck in his throat. He felt like he was going to throw up. The building towered over them, a monument of fire. His father had died on those steps. His dad. Hero cop. What would Dad do? 

Eric put one foot on the first step. The first responders in the parade were doing their best to corral people away from the fire. The fire brigade, the actual fire brigade, had driven past at least an hour ago. Who knew how many blocks away the nearest fire truck was? “I… I have to…” He half expected Detective Hayman to stop him, but the man was sitting on the steps looking at his arm.

Without saying anything more, Eric ran up the steps. The fire seemed to be focused mostly on the third floor for now. It would make its way down as the building collapsed, but for now, that meant he could run in without immediately suffocating. Smashing into the double doors with his shoulder, he crashed into the building. 

He’d been wrong. The bottom floor, while not an inferno, had clearly suffered under the explosion. He remembered things from when he was a kid, about what kind of things caused what kind of fires. Words like “accelerant” popped into his head as he covered his face with a handkerchief. In here, the only sound was that of fire and crumbling architecture.

“Hello?!” he shouted, but the noise drowned out his voice. “Fuck,” he swore to himself, and quickly ran into the rooms. He mentally tried to map out the building as he remembered it, but it had been almost ten years since he’d been in here, and both him and the furniture had changed in that time. Well, whatever furniture was still there, abandoned and decrepit. Still, he managed to make his way across the ground floor without issue, though sadly also without finding anyone. That had to mean whoever Detective Hayman had been talking about was on the second floor or higher. 

His eyes stung, and the idea of going higher up, where it would be hotter, more dangers and filled with smoke was terrifying. But his dad had saved lives. He was the son of a hero. He had to do his best. Going up three steps at a time, he ran up the stairs, taking care to keep breathing through the cloth. The last thing he wanted was to pass out, after all, and he was grateful he’d kept in shape. 

Later, when Eric would think back to this moment, the first thing he’d think of was the strange sentence that went through his head. “If there’s a hell,” he thought, “this is probably what it looks like.” It was white hot. The flames left flickering impressions in his vision, and the air itself seemed to be flickering and vibrating. The whole room seemed to be spinning. 

Keeping his head down to avoid inhaling too much smoke, he carefully made his way through the room. The old wooden floors and curtains had caught fire immediately in places, and he had a hard time navigating his way around. But he had to because he was pretty sure he’d seen what he’d run in here for. At the far wall was someone slumped up against the wall, their head rolling left to right. Which meant they were either knocked out or incapable of getting up on their own. And at the rate the fire was spreading, there was no way they’d make it out in time. The problem was that there were several abandoned-but-burning desks between them and Eric. 

“Okay,” Eric said. “Okay. Think.” He looked around. There were several rugs still around. He could do something with that. In the corner of the room there also seemed to be a sink. With a bit of luck, that meant running water. The sink on the opposite corner of the room. He stuck his jaw forward, nodded to himself, trying to hype himself up, then ran over to the rug on his side of the room, and threw it onto a table. Like he’d hoped, it snuffed out the flames long enough for him to jump onto the table, through the fire. 

The flames already licked at the edges of the rug. He felt them sting his face, and he accidentally inhaled a lungful of smoke. Coughing as he jumped down, he rolled and got back to his feet. His chest was on fire, but he’d made it. Okay. He was on the side with the figure now. It looked to be a woman in her forties, dressed professionally. She was trying to get up, but clearly too dazed to move. 

Eric ran up to her and gently shook her shoulders. “Hey!” he said. “Hey, can you hear me?” The woman looked up at him, blinking slowly like she couldn’t believe he was there. Then, slowly, she nodded. “Listen, I don’t — cough — I don’t know what happened, but you need to save your breath. We gotta get you out of here.” Thinking about it as he ran over to the sink, the woman was probably lucky. If she’d been knocked down in the initial explosion, that meant she was closer to the ground. Standing upright was already having an effect on him. He could feel himself getting lightheaded. 

He ran the tap, and to his delight, clear water splashed on his hands. He quickly rubbed some in his face, then took off his shirt and threw it in the sink, letting it soak. After a second, he ran over to the woman, wiping down her face with the wet rag. 

“Okay, do you think you can stand?”

She nodded, still not saying anything much, steadying herself against Eric and the wall. He looked around. The stairs were a no-go. In her state, there was no way the woman was going to be climbing over the desks, especially since the carpet he’d thrown on top of it had caught fire properly now, too. 

There was a flash of memory. The back of the police building had been a well-maintained lot. As a kid, he’d been to barbecues there. There were shrubs lining the building, he remembered. It wasn’t a perfect idea, but if nobody had cut the hedges down, those might break a fall. He looked at the window, then around. There was a chair that hadn’t caught fire yet, broken and abandoned. 

“Okay,” he said again, and the woman looked at him. Eric knew he had to act quickly, decisively, or neither of them was walking out of this building alive. He grabbed the chair and threw it as hard as he could at the window. It bounced off, and he was only just able to jump aside. It clipped his knee, which stung, but that was about it. He looked at the window again. There was a crack. “Fuck.”

He grabbed the chair again, and this time smashed it against the window as hard as he could. The crack grew bigger. He hit it again. And again. And again. On his fifth swing, the window shattered outward and the chair tumbled out. He wrapped the shirt around his hand and punched away the biggest shards of glass, then looked out. 

The backlot looked like he remembered it. He vaguely caught a glimpse of what looked like a fireman running the other way. Eric frowned. They were probably going for backup, and weren’t going to be able to hear him if he yelled after them. He looked down. The bushes were indeed right there, although there was glass in them. Well, rather glass cuts than a concrete concussion. He took a few steps back. “Okay,” he said. “We’re going to have to jump. There’s a bush just below the window. Do you think you can do that?” 

The woman looked at him, and then finally opened her mouth. “Y—Yes,” she said. “I can.” On unsteady legs, she took a few steps towards the window, when a heavy beam crashed through the ceiling. The noise was deafening, and they were both thrown to the ground. The beam had fallen right through the story and revealed that the ground floor was ablaze. Flames licked out of the hole. Eric yelped, his brain too overwhelmed to even scream an expletive. 

“Okay,” he mumbled. “Okay, okay, okay, we can do this.” He looked around again. There was one more rug. He ran back over to the sink, not bothering with the tap this time, and opened the cabinet under it. He kicked at the piping as hard as he could, until the whole thing burst. Water exploded out, splashing him in the face. A part of him wanted to stand there for a moment, but he knew the coolness of it wouldn’t last forever. 

Leaning down, he bent the pipe as best he could, pointing it at the floor, then ran over to drag the carpet closer. It took only a second for the rug to soak through, and he took it to the woman. “Okay,” he said as he draped it over her. “Jump the gap, then just keep going. If you go through that window, you’re going to hit the bushes and you’ll be fine, alright?”

She looked at him with panic in his eyes. The fire coming through the floor reached the ceiling. Every second she was clearly becoming more cognizant of her environment, and he was pretty sure she was going to start panicking any second now, so he kept his voice as calm as he wasn’t. 

“Alright, ready? I’ll help you get across.” He put a hand on her upper back. She was clearly unsure, but he wasn’t going to give her any time to think, either. “One. Two. Three!” He pushed her as hard as he could, and she crossed the gap. As soon as she was on the other side, she threw the smoking rug off of her, and turned around. She looked at him, then at the window. “Throw it back to me!” he shouted. She nodded, rolled it up and tossed it across. He caught it and immediately threw it down. It was smoldering slightly and already cork dry, but it was still intact. He looked at her. “Alright! Jump! I’m right behind you!” 

She stepped up onto the windowsill, then looked behind her at him. “Thank you!” she yelled, then jumped out. Alright. Eric picked up the carpet and turned to sink to soak it in water again, when the sink crashed through the floor. The piping burst, and he felt hot water splash the skin of his bare upper body. 

Fuck. That wasn’t a way out. He looked at the window. Well, he was going to look a bit redder after this, but he was going to have to make the jump without a wet rug. He wrapped it around himself anyway. It could only help, right? As soon as he took a step towards the window, the floor sagged and lurched, and almost threw him down. A good ten feet of floor gave way, and he clamored to get back. He was quite literally stuck between massive pits, fire rising up from both of them. 

The weirdly observant part of his brain told him there was probably a support beam in the middle that kept him up, but also reminded him that it was also probably not long for this world. Okay. Down was dead. He looked straight ahead, at the stairs. There was a window by the staircase. He did still have the carpet. He could toss that onto the desks again. While they probably wouldn’t be able to hold his weight, they might keep the flames down long enough for him to jump over them, if he was quick. 

He took a deep breath, then ran forward. Tossing the rug in front of him, he smothered the flames and did a forward leap that would’ve made his middle school gym teacher proud, executing a flawless roll on the other side, ending in a perfect slam against the far wall. Something in his chest went click and suddenly breathing was a lot harder. 

No. Get up. No time for pain. He stood up and walked over to the window. His hand was on the latch when a second explosion rocked through the building and slammed his head against the glass. A shadow covered his vision. The roaring of the flames sounded like it was coming from under water. He could hear his brain pulse, tasted copper in his mouth. “Fwzl?” he said as he turned around. Then the ground fell away under him and the world was fire.

Elamimax

I'm sure everything's fine.

This is your friendly neighborhood author reminder that the full story is actually already written up to chapter 23 which is available for Patrons! I'd really appreciate it if you checked it out!

Also! I have also updated Flipping Out and Verdant, so head over there for new chapters of those too :)

Ela

Chapter 5: Into Fire Everything was blurry. He shook his head, which brought the world into stark, painful focus. Detective Hayman was picking himself up. There were screams all around them. Eric pushed himself up on his feet. He'd been thrown down the steps of the building, but it hadn't been that far. At worst, he'd probably have some bruises on his elbows. That, and probably some mild hearing damage. The explosion had blasted him with a wall of air and heat. Wh What happened? Eric said. Nobody answered. Hayman seemed disoriented as well, and was clutching his arm. He held it straight down, which wasn't a good sign. Mike? What's going on? Are you okay? They looked at the building. I'm I'm okay, kid. I think someone in the cleaning crew might still be inside, he said. Eric's heart got stuck in his throat. He felt like he was going to throw up. The building towered over them, a monument of fire. His father had died on those steps. His dad. Hero cop. What would Dad do? Eric put one foot on the first step. The first responders in the parade were doing their best to corral people away from the fire. The fire brigade, the actual fire brigade, had driven past at least an hour ago. Who knew how many blocks away the nearest fire truck was? I I have to He half expected Detective Hayman to stop him, but the man was sitting on the steps looking at his arm. Without saying anything more, Eric ran up the steps. The fire seemed to be focused mostly on the third floor for now. It would make its way down as the building collapsed, but for now, that meant he could run in without immediately suffocating. Smashing into the double doors with his shoulder, he crashed into the building. He'd been wrong. The bottom floor, while not an inferno, had clearly suffered under the explosion. He remembered things from when he was a kid, about what kind of things caused what kind of fires. Words like accelerant popped into his head as he covered his face with a handkerchief. In here, the only sound was that of fire and crumbling architecture. Hello?! he shouted, but the noise drowned out his voice. Fuck, he swore to himself, and quickly ran into the rooms. He mentally tried to map out the building as he remembered it, but it had been almost ten years since he'd been in here, and both him and the furniture had changed in that time. Well, whatever furniture was still there, abandoned and decrepit. Still, he managed to make his way across the ground floor without issue, though sadly also without finding anyone. That had to mean whoever Detective Hayman had been talking about was on the second floor or higher. His eyes stung, and the idea of going higher up, where it would be hotter, more dangers and filled with smoke was terrifying. But his dad had saved lives. He was the son of a hero. He had to do his best. Going up three steps at a time, he ran up the stairs, taking care to keep breathing through the cloth. The last thing he wanted was to pass out, after all, and he was grateful he'd kept in shape. Later, when Eric would think back to this moment, the first thing he'd think of was the strange sentence that went through his head. If there's a hell, he thought, this is probably what it looks like. It was white hot. The flames left flickering impressions in his vision, and the air itself seemed to be flickering and vibrating. The whole room seemed to be spinning. Keeping his head down to avoid inhaling too much smoke, he carefully made his way through the room. The old wooden floors and curtains had caught fire immediately in places, and he had a hard time navigating his way around. But he had to because he was pretty sure he'd seen what he'd run in here for. At the far wall was someone slumped up against the wall, their head rolling left to right. Which meant they were either knocked out or incapable of getting up on their own. And at the rate the fire was spreading, there was no way they'd make it out in time. The problem was that there were several abandoned-but-burning desks between them and Eric. Okay, Eric said. Okay. Think. He looked around. There were several rugs still around. He could do something with that. In the corner of the room there also seemed to be a sink. With a bit of luck, that meant running water. The sink on the opposite corner of the room. He stuck his jaw forward, nodded to himself, trying to hype himself up, then ran over to the rug on his side of the room, and threw it onto a table. Like he'd hoped, it snuffed out the flames long enough for him to jump onto the table, through the fire. The flames already licked at the edges of the rug. He felt them sting his face, and he accidentally inhaled a lungful of smoke. Coughing as he jumped down, he rolled and got back to his feet. His chest was on fire, but he'd made it. Okay. He was on the side with the figure now. It looked to be a woman in her forties, dressed professionally. She was trying to get up, but clearly too dazed to move. Eric ran up to her and gently shook her shoulders. Hey! he said. Hey, can you hear me? The woman looked up at him, blinking slowly like she couldn't believe he was there. Then, slowly, she nodded. Listen, I don't cough I don't know what happened, but you need to save your breath. We gotta get you out of here. Thinking about it as he ran over to the sink, the woman was probably lucky. If she'd been knocked down in the initial explosion, that meant she was closer to the ground. Standing upright was already having an effect on him. He could feel himself getting lightheaded. He ran the tap, and to his delight, clear water splashed on his hands. He quickly rubbed some in his face, then took off his shirt and threw it in the sink, letting it soak. After a second, he ran over to the woman, wiping down her face with the wet rag. Okay, do you think you can stand? She nodded, still not saying anything much, steadying herself against Eric and the wall. He looked around. The stairs were a no-go. In her state, there was no way the woman was going to be climbing over the desks, especially since the carpet he'd thrown on top of it had caught fire properly now, too. There was a flash of memory. The back of the police building had been a well-maintained lot. As a kid, he'd been to barbecues there. There were shrubs lining the building, he remembered. It wasn't a perfect idea, but if nobody had cut the hedges down, those might break a fall. He looked at the window, then around. There was a chair that hadn't caught fire yet, broken and abandoned. Okay, he said again, and the woman looked at him. Eric knew he had to act quickly, decisively, or neither of them was walking out of this building alive. He grabbed the chair and threw it as hard as he could at the window. It bounced off, and he was only just able to jump aside. It clipped his knee, which stung, but that was about it. He looked at the window again. There was a crack. Fuck. He grabbed the chair again, and this time smashed it against the window as hard as he could. The crack grew bigger. He hit it again. And again. And again. On his fifth swing, the window shattered outward and the chair tumbled out. He wrapped the shirt around his hand and punched away the biggest shards of glass, then looked out. The backlot looked like he remembered it. He vaguely caught a glimpse of what looked like a fireman running the other way. Eric frowned. They were probably going for backup, and weren't going to be able to hear him if he yelled after them. He looked down. The bushes were indeed right there, although there was glass in them. Well, rather glass cuts than a concrete concussion. He took a few steps back. Okay, he said. We're going to have to jump. There's a bush just below the window. Do you think you can do that? The woman looked at him, and then finally opened her mouth. YYes, she said. I can. On unsteady legs, she took a few steps towards the window, when a heavy beam crashed through the ceiling. The noise was deafening, and they were both thrown to the ground. The beam had fallen right through the story and revealed that the ground floor was ablaze. Flames licked out of the hole. Eric yelped, his brain too overwhelmed to even scream an expletive. Okay, he mumbled. Okay, okay, okay, we can do this. He looked around again. There was one more rug. He ran back over to the sink, not bothering with the tap this time, and opened the cabinet under it. He kicked at the piping as hard as he could, until the whole thing burst. Water exploded out, splashing him in the face. A part of him wanted to stand there for a moment, but he knew the coolness of it wouldn't last forever. Leaning down, he bent the pipe as best he could, pointing it at the floor, then ran over to drag the carpet closer. It took only a second for the rug to soak through, and he took it to the woman. Okay, he said as he draped it over her. Jump the gap, then just keep going. If you go through that window, you're going to hit the bushes and you'll be fine, alright? She looked at him with panic in his eyes. The fire coming through the floor reached the ceiling. Every second she was clearly becoming more cognizant of her environment, and he was pretty sure she was going to start panicking any second now, so he kept his voice as calm as he wasn't. Alright, ready? I'll help you get across. He put a hand on her upper back. She was clearly unsure, but he wasn't going to give her any time to think, either. One. Two. Three! He pushed her as hard as he could, and she crossed the gap. As soon as she was on the other side, she threw the smoking rug off of her, and turned around. She looked at him, then at the window. Throw it back to me! he shouted. She nodded, rolled it up and tossed it across. He caught it and immediately threw it down. It was smoldering slightly and already cork dry, but it was still intact. He looked at her. Alright! Jump! I'm right behind you! She stepped up onto the windowsill, then looked behind her at him. Thank you! she yelled, then jumped out. Alright. Eric picked up the carpet and turned to sink to soak it in water again, when the sink crashed through the floor. The piping burst, and he felt hot water splash the skin of his bare upper body. Fuck. That wasn't a way out. He looked at the window. Well, he was going to look a bit redder after this, but he was going to have to make the jump without a wet rug. He wrapped it around himself anyway. It could only help, right? As soon as he took a step towards the window, the floor sagged and lurched, and almost threw him down. A good ten feet of floor gave way, and he clamored to get back. He was quite literally stuck between massive pits, fire rising up from both of them. The weirdly observant part of his brain told him there was probably a support beam in the middle that kept him up, but also reminded him that it was also probably not long for this world. Okay. Down was dead. He looked straight ahead, at the stairs. There was a window by the staircase. He did still have the carpet. He could toss that onto the desks again. While they probably wouldn't be able to hold his weight, they might keep the flames down long enough for him to jump over them, if he was quick. He took a deep breath, then ran forward. Tossing the rug in front of him, he smothered the flames and did a forward leap that would've made his middle school gym teacher proud, executing a flawless roll on the other side, ending in a perfect slam against the far wall. Something in his chest went click and suddenly breathing was a lot harder. No. Get up. No time for pain. He stood up and walked over to the window. His hand was on the latch when a second explosion rocked through the building and slammed his head against the glass. A shadow covered his vision. The roaring of the flames sounded like it was coming from under water. He could hear his brain pulse, tasted copper in his mouth. Fwzl? he said as he turned around. Then the ground fell away under him and the world was fire. Elamimax I'm sure everything's fine. This is your friendly neighborhood author reminder that the full story is actually already written up to chapter 23 which is available for Patrons! I'd really appreciate it if you checked it out! Also! I have also updated Flipping Out and Verdant, so head over there for new chapters of those too : Ela