Pony and Johnny tried, in vain, to push the burning log off of their bodies, but couldn't manage to do much but burn their already scorched fingers.
"Johnny," Pony gasped, panicking, his voice wet with the blood in his throat, "Johnny, are we going to die?"
"No," Johnny said, grunting in pain.
"Johnny," God, his voice sounded so young. "Johnny, I can't breathe, it's on my stomach, Johnny I'm scared."
"Pony, please don't panic," Johnny was getting close to hysteria. He couldn't flex his toes anymore. "Please please please don't panic."
"HELP!" Pony started screaming suddenly, "Please, help us-!" His cries were cut off by a coughing fit, which trailed off into teary begging of, "Please."
It was getting harder to breathe, but at least they'd gotten all of the kids out, Johnny reckoned. Maybe instead of murderers, they'd be portrayed gallantly in the paper.
Maybe-
The sound of cracking wood resounded in front of them, and sunlight suddenly poured in. The flames vacuumed outside a bit, an effect caused by the sudden cool air rushing in. "Shit- just hold on, you two, I'm coming!"
Ponyboy stopped crying.
"Dal?"
"I'm coming," Dallas roared, running through the flames. He knelt down in front of them and single handedly lifted the log off of their thin bodies. Haphazardly, he grabbed the two younger boys, lifting them up and ignoring their screams of agony, and carried them out of the burning building.