Logan's POV
Hurry up. Hurry up. Hurry Up. Hurry up.
"They were following me a minute ago, I swear!"
"Don't worry," one of the executives whispered to me. "No one's questioning you. Just promise that you won't try to play hero. You dying isn't going to help anyone. Stay put, and I promise that help will be here soon."
"Do you think they're going to be okay?" I whispered.
"Um... I… Well- help will be here soon" wasn't quite the answer I was looking for.
Seconds later, the roar of sirens and screeching tires gave me some kind of hope that maybe, just maybe, someone would come out alive.
They brought out the hoses, spraying water as five firefighters rushed into the smoldering wreckage. As the officers questioned me, I stared intently at the door counting heads.
Out came what looked like Kendall, coughing on a firefighter's shoulder, hair and face blackened with ash. Carlos and James were literally being dragged out, both of them perfectly conscious. It looked like… they were trying to get back in?
I stood there, watching, waiting, praying for the last person to walk out… but was greeted with a limp form in the arms of a rescuer… A limp form with a hole in it.
Kendall's POV
"The helicopter will be here shortly, sir." They kept saying it over and over again. No one would answer my questions… tell me what was happening…. save my sister…
She was on a stretcher, held onto her side as to not drive the pipe through her any further. Her white tank top was now a sickening mix of red and brown, clinging to her ribs for dear life. James was smoothing back her disheveled hair, whispering to the broken doll of a girl. No matter how many times they told him she couldn't hear him, I kept catching him singing to her. Carlos and Logan were pacing, and assorted executives and staff were being thoroughly questioned as the police tried to determine the cause of the fire.
Maybe fifteen minutes later, the helicopter was landing on top of a near-by building. The medical team jogged with the stretcher, heading towards the door of the helicopter's impromptu landing pad.
They wouldn't let us go with her, saying there wasn't enough room for anyone who didn't have to be there. An officer scribbled down an address, leading the four of us who hadn't been impaled with a stick coated in god knows what to my car.
I stepped on the gas before all the doors were even shut. My little sister was going to touchdown half an hour from here, and I was determined to be there whether or not her spirit was.