Order up! Thanks again to GrayWolf84 for all her help with this chapter! Not much else to say here…enjoy!
- Flynne :)
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– Chapter 8 –
"Out of the Ashes"
Bo panted heavily, trembling as he strained to dig himself out from beneath the shattered crates and bundles of cloth they had contained. The fall and force of the explosion had left him stunned and knocked the breath from his body, and he had spent several tense seconds struggling to breathe again. Then he had gasped, wincing at the sudden sharp pain that came as he sucked down a lungful of hot, smoky air. Now he was sprawled on top of his cousin on the concrete floor, and he felt a burst of alarm as he realized Luke wasn't moving.
"Luke! Luke, you okay?"
When he didn't get an answer, he gritted his teeth in determination and squirmed out from beneath the smoldering debris that covered them. He realized the cloth bundles were actually old prison uniforms, and he said a quick prayer of thanks that they hadn't been hit with the spare car parts that lay scattered on the ground.
As soon as he was free of the rubble, the heat of the fire hit him again full force. The fierceness of the flames had redoubled now that the kerosene had fueled it, and half the room was engulfed, dark red brick rapidly streaked with soot as the flames licked their way against the walls. Bright trails of flame snaked across the floor where the flammable liquid had spilled. The roof groaned and cracked above him—a large section had been obliterated in the blast, and flaming chunks were still falling to the ground in bright streaks.
Bo grabbed hold of the splintered boards and tossed them out of the way, shoving the last of the debris away. He uncovered his cousin and carefully turned him onto his back. He was relieved to see no signs of bleeding, but when he reached for Luke's neck to feel for a pulse, his hands were shaking so badly that he couldn't be sure what he felt. An ugly bruise was rapidly forming on the side of Luke's head where he had struck the concrete floor. Bo leaned down and pressed his ear against Luke's chest but he couldn't hear anything over the cracking wood and the muted roar of the fire. "Luke, don't do this to me! Come on, talk to me!"
The last words were torn out of his chest by a sudden fit of coughing as the curling black smoke worked its way into his lungs. Still kneeling on the floor, Bo looked up at the rusty sprinkler system that hovered mockingly over his head, dry as a bone. He could tell that most of the back wall was gone, but the pile of rubble and towering flames barred them in as if it were a steel door. He could feel the heat from the approaching flames like an oppressive fist trying to crush him to the ground.
Pow!
Bo gasped and ducked at the sudden crack that shattered the air. His first thought was that they were being shot at, and he immediately bent low over his cousin to shield him, although he knew it would do little good. As if it ain't enough for them to burn us alive! he thought with bitter fury. But when the sharp staccato rang out again and no bullet plowed through him, he risked a glance over his shoulder.
Pow! A shower of sparks and concrete chunks exploded up from the dusty floor beneath the kerosene spill, pitting the concrete with an inches-wide crater as stone projectiles whistled through the air.
Bo covered his head with his arms and bent over Luke again, flinching as he felt the stinging blows through his shirt where the tiny missiles struck him. The chunks from the spalling concrete had been small and had come from far away, but he could tell bigger pieces would seriously hurt if they struck him from close range. He had to get out of the open. Bo quickly slid his hands beneath Luke's arms and pulled him across the floor, behind one of the few remaining shaky stacks of wooden crates so he would be safe, at least temporarily.
Well, you can't fault ol' Bo for tryin', but bein' stuck between a brick wall and a raging fire don't exactly give him the option of "safe".
"We ain't gonna die in here. You hear me, Luke? We ain't gonna die!" In spite of his defiance, Bo could feel cold talons of fear sinking into his heart. His breaths became shallow and quick, exacerbating his cough from the smoke. God, what am I gonna do? Help me!
He raised his eyes to the darkened ceiling searching for an answer he didn't think he'd find—but then he gasped and stared hard through the smoke as a spark of hope blazed up in his heart. There were several dark patches there that he hadn't noticed before, spaced at regular intervals between the rafters. They weren't windows, were they? No, they couldn't be…the room had been pitch black all day…but now that he'd seen it, he couldn't ignore it.
He scrambled to his feet and climbed up the unsteady stack of crates he had taken shelter behind. The top of the stack was just a few feet below the ceiling, and then he could see it wasn't a window or an access door, but a skylight. The glass had been thickly covered in black paint long ago, blocking daylight and camouflaging it from view…until now.
Bo rolled to his back on top of the crate, raised his arms to shield his face, and bashed the heel of his boot against the thick glass: once, twice, three times…the glass cracked, and on the fourth blow it shattered with a tinkling crash. He snaked his hand through the opening and groped outside for the catch. His searching fingers found it, and with a sharp tug, he opened the latch and pushed the broken skylight open.
Bo struggled for breath between deep, harsh coughs. The stack of crates had started burning, and they were running out of time. He half-jumped, half-fell to the ground, stumbling dizzily as he landed. The smoke was thick and heavy near the ceiling, and the lack of oxygen was making him disoriented and light-headed. He ran back to where he had left Luke. "Come on, buddy. We're gettin' out of here." As gently as haste would allow, he hauled his cousin off the floor and slung him across his shoulders in a fireman's carry. "You're lucky I'm bigger'n you are," he grunted, staggering a bit beneath Luke's solid weight.
Ya know, it's times like this that I bet Bo's pretty glad he spent four years as a linebacker on the Hazzard High football team.
Sweat trickled into Bo's eyes as he started climbing the stack of crates again. The heat from the flames was blisteringly hot, and his lungs were burning as he climbed up into the acrid smoke. He was coughing raggedly and his eyes were watering, but he could still see the skylight yawning open above him.
The stack of wooden crates suddenly shifted beneath him as the base was finally eaten through by the flames and started to crumble. Bo grabbed onto the skylight opening, gritting his teeth as he struggled not to fall. His shoulders cramped as he leaned forward to keep Luke's dead weight from sliding off his back. With a sudden surge of strength, he pulled himself to the top of the heap and stood up, lifting his head and shoulders out into the cool night. He gasped in relief as the clean air hit his face, pausing only for a second before tensing his arms to lift Luke over his head and onto the flat roof.
There was a sudden loud crash from below as the stack of crates swayed, and Bo barely had time to throw himself through the skylight as the crates collapsed beneath him. His torso stretched across the roof as his legs dangled above the fire below. He dragged himself up and out of the building as the flames licked at his boots, and collapsed in a heap beside his cousin. He was trembling with exertion, but he knew he couldn't stay still. Already he could feel the roof growing hot beneath him.
Bo lifted himself up, slid his hands beneath Luke's arms once again, and started dragging him to the edge of the roof—and not a moment too soon. He hadn't taken ten steps before the roof shuddered and an additional fifteen square feet caved in, sending the remainder of the shattered skylight plummeting into the inferno below. Bright tongues of flame spiked through the opening into the night, and a great plume of smoke billowed out over the roof.
He reached the edge of the roof, wondering fearfully how in the world he was going to get down. There was no ladder or fire escape, and Luke was still unconscious—there was no way he could shimmy down with his cousin on his back. He thought he would just have to drop Luke down and jump after him. Even though the building wasn't too tall, the fall would be long enough to hurt…but right then it looked like his only option. Any injuries they might incur would be better than being burned alive.
But then he looked down, and in a rush of amazement he saw a slew of flashing red and white lights, and a handful of volunteer firemen rushing toward the building. He had no idea how they had gotten there, but at that moment it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Two firefighters lifted a ladder and propped it against the building while a third man ran up the ladder and jumped onto the roof.
"Give him to me," he said, gesturing at Luke's limp form. His voice was calm but laced with urgency, and his motions were hurried as he bent and lifted Luke's body to his shoulders. He paused just long enough to rest his gloved hand on Bo's arm. "You okay to come down by yourself?" Bo could only nod in reply, trying to recover from the uncontrollable coughing that shook his body. He waited just long enough for the firefighter to get down the ladder with Luke, then swung over the edge and slid down the sturdy rungs to the ground. He stumbled a few steps away from the building before his strength gave out. He dropped to his hands and knees, chest heaving as he struggled to breathe through a throat that had grown tight and dry.
Two firefighters came alongside him and took hold of his arms, lifting him from the pavement and guiding him to the ambulance that waited nearby. A white-jacketed paramedic was waiting to meet him and helped him sit down on the ground behind the ambulance.
"Come on, son," the middle-aged man said, kneeling beside him. "Take it easy. My name's Dale—I'm here to help you." He gently placed an oxygen mask over Bo's mouth and nose. "Give me your hand. That's it, hold that mask on your face. I know it hurts, but try to breathe as deep as you can. Just sit there for a minute while I check you over, okay?"
Bo lifted his head and gave the attendant a desperate look. He let the oxygen mask drop as he struggled to speak. "I—my—c-cousin…L-Luke—" He broke off as another bout of coughing rattled him.
Dale settled the mask back over Bo's face. "My partner, Harry, is taking care of him inside the ambulance," he answered. "Don't worry. He'll be all right."
"You're sure?" The anxious inquiry came out as a croak, but Dale understood.
"I'm sure." The paramedic patted his shoulder reassuringly. He put his stethoscope in his ears and slid the bell beneath Bo's shirt on his back, brow furrowing as he listened to the young man's strained efforts to pull in a full breath.
"Bo!" He looked up in surprise to see Daisy come pelting towards him with Nate Miles and his Uncle Jesse—who had arrived only moments before the fire crew—hot on her heels. She stopped breathlessly in front of him, wide blue eyes anxiously scanning her cousin's soot-covered face. "Honey, are you okay?" Bo nodded wearily. The adrenaline rush had rapidly drained from his body, leaving him feeling tired and worn out.
"I don't want him talking just yet," Dale put in, draping his stethoscope around his neck. "He took in a good amount of smoke. He just needs to breathe right now."
Daisy swallowed hard, looking over her shoulder at the burning building. The rest of the roof had caved in, and white plumes of water hissed against the flames. Great gouts of steam and smoke billowed into the night sky. She looked fearfully at Dale. "There was someone with him," she said in a trembling voice. "Our cousin, Luke—"
Bo lifted his free hand and pointed toward the ambulance. The back doors were closed. Dale reached out and closed his hand around Bo's wrist, glancing down at his watch as he took his pulse. "I told Bo—Luke's going to be all right," he said to the anxious family. "My partner has him in the rig. He'll let you know how things are when he's finished taking care of him."
Miles was looking darkly back at the decimated building, clenched fists buried in the pockets of his denim jacket. His face was lined with deep suspicion as he saw the rope burns on Bo's wrists, but he remained silent. Bo felt the detective's scrutinizing gaze on him, though, and he knew there would be plenty of discussion later about what had happened.
Just then, the back doors of the ambulance popped open and a stocky young man climbed out.
"Harry, this here is Luke's family," Dale explained. "They're a mite worried about him. How is he?"
"Well, he hit his head pretty good and he's feelin' a little groggy right now, but he'll be fine. He remembers where he is and what happened to him." The young paramedic smiled. "He's been askin' about you," he said to Bo. "Wants to make sure you're safe." Bo felt an overwhelming surge of relief wash over him and he slumped forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Well, come on, young man," Dale said, nudging his shoulder. "Better go show your cousin that you're not hurt." He looked at Daisy and Jesse. "We'll take 'em over to the community clinic to make sure they're all right. They'll need to be observed overnight to make sure they don't develop any complications from sucking down all that smoke, but they should be able to be discharged tomorrow. I hate to say it, but visiting hours are over by now—the staff will want you to come in the morning."
Jesse nodded. "We understand." He briefly touched Bo's cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm glad you're all right, son."
Daisy took his face in her hands and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "You and Luke keep an eye on each other, okay?" She did her best to give her younger cousin a brave smile and walked away with her hand tucked through Jesse's arm. Miles gave him a serious nod before he drew away, following Daisy back to her Jeep.
Dale and Harry helped Bo stand up and climb into the back of the ambulance. The older paramedic went up front to drive while Harry settled Bo on a padded bench beside the gurney where Luke was stretched out.
The dark-haired man was lying on his back, a dark bruise spreading across his temple. Half of his face was obscured by an oxygen mask like the one Bo wore, but his eyes were open, and their blue depths lit up with relief when he saw his cousin. He immediately extended his hand. Bo gripped it tightly, a smile working its way across his face for the first time that night.
"Good to see you in one piece," Luke said, voice muffled by the plastic covering over his mouth and nose. "I'd get up, but I'm still waitin' for the world to stop spinnin'. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm—" Bo broke off suddenly as his throat spasmed, and he winced as a dry, hacking cough burned through his chest so abruptly it made his eyes water.
Harry leaned forward to make sure Bo was going to keep holding the oxygen mask on. "He took in a lot of smoke," he explained. "We don't want him to talk much just yet."
"Sure." Luke turned back to Bo. "Thanks for pullin' me out of there," he said quietly. Bo just nodded and gave Luke's hand one final squeeze before letting go. He was suddenly grateful for the coughing spell—his stinging eyes were still watering, and it concealed the tears of relief that were threatening to spill over.