“Go, go! The building is structurally unsafe as it is!”
Commands are screamed into small throat-mics.
“I see one! Top floor!”
“Roger, Charlie, my team is on it.”
Clouds of cloying, caustic smoke billowed into the dusk’s embrace. Glowing night glimmered in the glare of the flames, spilling from open upper windows like some hellish furnace.
“I don’t know if we can make it, the ceiling’s in danger of collapsing!”
Charred flesh crackled in their passing, a corpse unfortunately asphyxiated and since roasted in the torturous hallway like a hog on a spit. Harsh, heavy breath rattled through respirators, filtering out the char and fumes.
“Roger, we’re on the top floor. No signs.”
Resounding thuds resonated across the room, rippling waves of heat turning the world into a kaleidoscope of nightmarish blacks and oranges. A thick fluorescent yellow boot finally kicked in the door, and three heavily garbed figures ran in.
Nothing.
Smoke seeped through fissures in the floor. Visored vision scanned the room quickly.
Nothing.
A deep rumble shook the building, the floor listing and leaning suddenly, throwing the men to their knees momentarily.
“H-help…”
The shadow of a whisper, emanating from beneath the skirted bed.
A hand, gloved in Nomex, reached beneath, pulling out a weak, soot-covered little girl. She looked up, seeing helmeted, masked faces emblazoned with the VFD insignia, and passed out, shock, lack of oxygen and exhaustion finally taking their toll.
“Roger, we’ve got her! Copy, we’ve got her!”
“All right, get out of there, the building’s near collapse.”
“Roger.”
20-Jun-2008 06:13:41
- Last edited on
20-Jun-2008 06:14:04
by
A White Wolf
