Chapter 8 - the fire and the fury
I ran faster than I ever had in my entire life, the freezing rain pelting my face. Ahead of me, the two-story apartment building was being consumed by violent, wind-whipped flames. Thick, black smoke poured into the storm clouds.
"Colonel! Stop! The fire teams are minutes away! You can't go in there!" Vance screamed, grabbing my shoulder as I reached the burning structure.
"Get your hands off me!" I roared, throwing off his grip with the raw, adrenaline-fueled strength of a mother. "My daughter is inside!"
I ripped off my heavy outer jacket, soaked it in a puddle, wrapped it tightly around my face, and charged straight through the flaming front entrance.
Inside, the hallway was a hellscape of blinding smoke and intense, choking heat. Portions of the ceiling were collapsing around me. I crawled on my hands and knees, screaming, "Abigail! Abigail! Answer me!"
A faint, raspy cough came from the bedroom at the end of the hall. I scrambled forward and found Abigail collapsed on the floor, clutching her chest, her eyes closed as she suffocated.
"I’ve got you, baby," I whispered, wrapping the wet jacket around her and hoisting her onto my shoulders in a fireman’s carry.
As I staggered back toward the blazing exit, a dark figure stepped out from the smoke. It was Nicholas. His face was blackened with soot, his eyes wide and completely vacant of humanity. He held a heavy metal pipe in his hands.
"You aren't taking her!" he screamed, swinging the pipe directly at my head.
Despite carrying Abigail, my combat reflexes took over. I ducked beneath the wild swing, shifted Abigail’s weight to slide her safely onto the wet grass outside the doorway, and pivoted. Nicholas lunged again, bringing the pipe down in a lethal arc.
I blocked the strike with my left forearm—the impact fracturing my arm, but I didn't feel the pain. With a roar, I delivered a brutal right hook straight to his jaw, followed by a devastating sweep kick to his knee.
There was a sickening crack. Nicholas collapsed onto the burning floorboards, screaming in agony as his knee shattered.
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I stepped forward, planting my heavy boot firmly onto his throat, looking down at him with the cold, unyielding gaze of a predator. "Game over, Nicholas."
The MPs and fire crews poured into the building a second later, dragging Nicholas out in handcuffs and rushing Abigail to an awaiting ambulance. I walked out into the rain, my broken arm cradled against my chest, watching the flames die. The nightmare was finally over.
