I squeeze my eyes shut against the image, reminding myself that this is a small town. It will only take us a few minutes to be onsite. Helping. Saving lives. Controlling the fire.
Saving Laney.
When the truck makes the turn onto the street, I look out the window. The first thing I see is a sign at the front of the street that says, CONGRATULATIONS, SHANE AND LANEY. My heart sinks at that.
And it sinks even lower when we pull into the lot and I see the wreckage.
“Looks like the tank wasn’t full or it would’ve blown that place to bits,” Ronnie says.
I’m not comforted. One wall was blown out completely. Fire is eating away at the rest. And the roof is hanging precariously over it all.
“Respirators on, guys,” Chip yells. I look around. They’re already in place. We all know what to expect.
My heart is racing by the time we pull to a stop and everyone jumps out to do what we do best.
Behind the shield of my helmet, I process the scene as I approach. I scan the tear-streaked and smoke-smudged faces. I search the bewildered and terrified eyes. I see it all. I take it all in. But the one thing I want most to see, the one person I want most to see, is nowhere to be found.
Turning my body 360 degrees, I scan the crowd once more for Laney. There are a lot of people out here. Surely this is the majority of those who were in attendance. The building isn’t that big. But in all these faces I don’t see the only one I care about. The only one that matters. And I know, deep down, that nothing will matter again if I don’t find her. Dead or alive.
I ask one of the more coherent people I pass, “Is anyone left inside?”
She nods, sobbing all the while.
“Is Laney in there?”
Again she nods. “She went back in a few minutes ago. She was helping people out, but there were some still inside . . .”
Before the woman can finish, I turn to Chip and motion that I’m going inside. I run up the short flight of stairs and step through the doorway, careful not to touch anything.
The room is ablaze. The curtains are on fire. The flower arrangements on the tables are on fire. There are flaming pieces of paper floating through the air. There are blazing bits of banner scattered across the floor. Some of the exposed beams from the ceiling have let go on one end to form what looks like a flame-soaked obstacle course.
Across the room, I see the gaping hole where the one wall was blown to bits. I also see where the remaining three are struggling to support the weight of the sagging roof.
This place is gonna go any minute now.
I have to find Laney.
I look through the bright orange haze, searching the billows of smoke for her pale head, but I see nothing. I see no upright bodies. No movement. No life.
I feel the beginnings of desperation set in. I look ahead and see a path that could possibly lead me safely into the center of the room, where I’ll have a better vantage point. Cautiously, I walk in that direction.
I turn the valve on my mask, something I know I shouldn’t do. “Laney!” I call, knowing full well that with the roar of the fire and the crackle of the structure giving way there’s no way she can hear me. But I yell again anyway. “Laney!”
As I duck beneath a huge wooden beam, I see the most glorious sight in the world—a shiny, blond head. I see Laney. She has something wrapped around her face, but I’d recognize her anywhere, wearing anything.
She’s making her way into the flames, going farther into the room. Lurching forward, I reach out for her, stopping her before she can go in any deeper. I spin her toward me and look into the face I’ve missed so much. I see recognition light her eyes, and she throws her arms around me.
So tight I could probably hurt her, I wrap my arms around her and lift her off the ground. Holding her against my chest, I turn and hurry back the way I came. My heart is racing, but this time with gratitude. And relief. And something else.
When I reach the door, I’m hesitant to release Laney, but I feel her struggling, so I let her down. There are tears in her eyes when she looks up at me. Tears and sheer panic.
“Jake, there are still people in there!” she says frantically.
I push her hair back from her face to get a good look at her. She looks all right, just freaked out. “Shhh, Laney, it’s okay. We’ll get them out. Don’t worry.”
“No, Jake, you don’t understand. I have to go back in there. Please.”
“Laney, let us take care of it. It’s—”
Chip taps my shoulder and cuts me off. I turn to him, and he’s shaking his head. “The roof is collapsing, Jake. No one goes back in until we can get past the tank in the back and through that blown-out wall. Stay put.”
I look to Laney. Her eyes are wide and terrified.
“Wh-what does that mean? They’re not going to just leave them in there, are they? Jake, I have to go back in there. I—”
“Just give us a few minutes to get in through the back. He’s saying it’s no longer safe to cross the room. We have to get in through the back.”
“No!” Laney starts to run past me, but I grab her around the waist. She struggles like a wild thing. “There’s no time!”
“Laney, stop! You have to—”
“You don’t understand. It’s my father. He’s in there. He and Shane were at the very front when it happened. Jake, my father is in there!” she cries, her agony tearing through my chest like it’s my own. “Please let me go back in there. Please!”
For a tenth of a second, my mind scrambles for the best way forward. None of the firemen will go back in until Chip gives the go-ahead. I’m sure as hell not letting Laney go back in there. But I couldn’t live with myself if this heartbreak, this utter devastation was the last thing I saw on her beautiful face.
That means there’s only one thing I can do. One thing I can do for Laney. For once in my life, I can help and not hurt someone that I love. For once in my life, I’ll prove my father wrong. Even if it kills me. Even if it means giving up my life for the two people in hers that I dislike the most.
It’s for Laney. And that’s all that matters.
Before anyone can stop me, and without another word, I turn and run back into the flames in search of Laney’s loved ones.
THIRTY-FIVE: Laney
“Nooo!”
The word is ringing so loudly in my ears, I hear nothing else. Pain is resonating in my chest so deeply, I feel nothing else.
I know that there are arms wrapped around me. I know that someone is preventing me from going after Jake, from stopping him. From saving him.