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Friday
It hurt like hell, but Mia managed to rip her hair from Dusty’s fists. Her head was burning. Her feet were burning. Dusty’s screams followed her as she leapt through the flames and ran through the raining debris toward the front of the barn, where, through streaming eyes, she thought she could make out a blurry black square that had to be the doorway.
A large man clamped an arm around her. “Mia? Mia Valdez?” Then he started slapping her head with his free hand.
“No!” she screamed, struggling against his grip. “Let me go!”
He pulled her toward the opening. “I’m Detective Finn, Mia. I’ve got you.”
Her legs collapsed. He swept her up into his arms and jogged outside. “We’ve been looking for you for so long,” he said softly. Kindly. She started sobbing.
Cradling her awkwardly in his arms, he still managed to brush embers from her hair, another away from the back of her neck. Mia used her fingers to comb a glowing particle from his hair. The sleeve of his jacket was smoking, and she slapped her hand against the fabric until it stopped. He opened his mouth, then broke into a fit of coughing, and hefted her higher against his chest.
She choked and cried into his shoulder as he carried her away from the fire, out of the smoke, into the cool night air. She gripped his shirt sleeve in her fist, and couldn’t stop crying and coughing.
Still holding her in his arms, the man leaned against a car and watched the fire as a wall gave way and the entire roof crashed down into the flames below. He started to say something, then choked, swallowed, took a deep breath, and finally, in a hoarse voice, managed to ask, “Anyone else in there?”
“No,” she croaked.
