Chapter 25 - Through the Smoke
The heat radiating from the burning porch pillars was a physical wall, pressing against my face and singeing the hairs on my arms as I charged toward the front entrance. The frosted glass panel of the door, which had looked so peaceful under the amber streetlamp just twenty minutes ago, was now cracking from the thermal shock of the flames licking at its frame.
I wrapped my heavy canvas jacket around my forearm, drew back my leg, and drove my boot straight into the center of the wooden door panel.
*Crack!*
The deadbolt held, but the wooden stile splintered inward with a loud crash. I kicked it a second time, throwing my shoulder against the edge until the entire lock mechanism ripped out of the drywall with a shower of plaster dust.
I stepped through the threshold into the foyer. Thick, gray-white smoke was already beginning to cascade down the grand staircase from the second floor, smelling sharply of burning fiberglass and synthetic carpet padding.
"Billy!" I shouted, my voice cutting through the rising roar of the fire outside. "Billy, stay low! Where are you?!"
No answer came from the hallway above. Panic, cold and paralyzing, gripped my chest. I dropped to my hands and knees, crawling as fast as I could toward the base of the stairs. The air near the floor was cleaner, breathable for a few precious seconds, but the heat radiating down the stairwell was intensifying exponentially.
I hauled myself up the stairs, taking them three at a time until I reached the second-floor landing. The smoke was thicker here, swirling in dense, choking plumes beneath the white ceiling drywall.
Billy’s bedroom door was closed, just as I had left it.
I threw the door open, coughing violently as a billow of smoke followed me into the room. The bed was empty. The blankets were tossed aside, and the soft glow of his nightlight cut a pathetic yellow circle through the haze.
"Billy!" I yelled, spinning around the small room.
A faint cough came from the walk-in closet in the corner.
I sprinted across the room, wrenching the closet door open. There he was, huddled in the back corner beneath a pile of heavy winter coats, clutching his favorite stuffed bear to his chest with both eyes squeezed tightly shut.
"Dad?" he whispered, his voice small and trembling through the smoke.
"I’ve got you, buddy. I’ve got you," I murmured, scooping him up into my arms in one fluid motion. I stripped my canvas jacket off and wrapped it tightly around his head and shoulders to filter out the toxic air.
May you like
As I turned to run back toward the bedroom door, the hallway outside erupted in a shower of sparks as a section of the attic access panel collapsed under the intense heat, dropping burning insulation directly onto the carpet outside.
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