Chapter 26 - The Collapse of the Bridge
The hallway outside Billy’s room was completely impassable. The fallen insulation had ignited the hallway runner rug, creating a wall of fire that blocked the path back to the main staircase.
Holding Billy tightly against my chest, I backed into the bedroom and slammed the door shut, cutting off the immediate rush of smoke. My mind raced through the house’s architectural blueprints—the exact schematics I had drawn myself, line by line, over the past year.
The master suite. It sat on the opposite side of the second floor, directly above the rear patio where the flat roof of the sunroom extended out over the backyard. The sunroom roof was only twelve feet off the ground—low enough to drop down safely if we could reach it.
"Hold onto my neck as tight as you can, Billy," I said, my voice steady despite the adrenaline hammering in my veins. "Close your eyes, buddy. We’re going on an adventure."
"I'm scared, Dad," he whimpered, burying his face into my shoulder.
"I know. But I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
I kicked open the connecting door between Billy’s room and the master suite, stepping into the unsmoked air of my own bedroom. The large picture window overlooking the backyard was still intact, the cool night breeze whispering against the glass from the outside world.
Without hesitation, I lowered my shoulder and crashed straight through the double-pane glass.
*Clatter of shattered crystal.*
We tumbled out onto the flat, rubberized membrane roof of the sunroom just as the bedroom behind us flashed over, the intense internal heat blowing out the remaining windows in a sheet of orange flame.
I scrambled across the slick rubber surface, clutching Billy safely against my chest, and slid down the slanted wooden support pillars of the patio pergola until my boots hit the soft grass of the backyard lawn.
Cool night air hit my face like a splash of cold water. Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder by the second as multiple fire engines and police cruisers converged on the street in front of the house.
I collapsed onto the grass, pulling Billy away from my chest to check him over. His face was smudged with soot, but his breathing was steady and clear.
"Are you okay?" I asked, my hands shaking uncontrollably as I brushed a lock of hair from his forehead.
"I'm okay, Dad," he whispered, offering a brave, crooked little smile. "You saved us."
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Across the lawn, framed by the blazing skeleton of the front porch, the silhouette of a police officer was wrestling Marcus to the ground, slapping steel cuffs onto his wrists as he screamed obscenities into the damp grass.
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