“HELLO? IS SOMEONE THERE?” a guy called from somewhere beyond the door. The shaking had stopped—again.
“Hello?” the voice shouted. This time louder. “Hey. Anyone there? Are you okay?”
“I’m in here.” She spun toward the guy’s voice and yelled back, “I’m in here and there’s something blocking the door! I’m trying to move it and need some help!” She waited for him to respond. When he didn’t, she shouted, “Hey! Are you still out there?”
“Yeah. Sorry. There are a bunch of things I have to get around to get to you. This might take a couple minutes. Hang tight and relax.”
Not in this lifetime. The smell of smoke was getting stronger. She might have come to the school to die, but she hadn’t wanted it to happen like this. That made no sense, even to her, but it’s the way things were. At least for now.
Cas turned from the door and plowed through the rubble to the only window she could see. The room used to have two, but the one near the front of the room was buried behind . . . God only knew what.
“You okay in there?” the guy yelled as something thudded on the other side of the door.
“I’m still here.” Which was far from okay. “I’m going to the window. Maybe I can see what’s happening.” Or find a way out. When she’d picked this room today, she hadn’t considered ever needing to leave it. For some reason, that struck her as horrifically amusing.
“Keep me posted. I’m Frankie Ochoa, by the way.”
Cas froze. Sirens from outside grew louder. The firefighters had arrived. And so had Frankie.
She thought about earlier in the practice room. The way the words they exchanged almost made her change her mind. How if he had returned then, she might not be here now. “I’m Cassandra Armon.”
“Cassandra,” he called over something scraping, “it’s nice to meet you.” He grunted, and she heard something hit the floor on his side. “I should have that door open in no time. Just hang in there.”
“Okay.” Telling herself it was stupid to be disappointed that he didn’t automatically recognize her full name, she pushed a chair out of the way and pulled herself up onto an overturned cabinet.
The smoke was getting thicker. She squinted toward the front of the room. It was coming in through the vent near the ceiling, not far from where a clock used to be.
Waking up in what looked like a war zone was scary. The idea of being burned to a crisp was paralyzing.
As quickly as she could, Cas lowered herself down from the cabinet, limped around a broken desk, and got close enough to see out the window. The view looked nothing like it had when she’d stood here earlier, gathering her courage.
The sun was still shining through the cracked glass. The sky was still blue. But now, instead of seeing the white brick and windows across the way and to her left, there were gaping holes where classrooms should be. And a body . . . Oh, God, there was a crumpled body down below, sprawled on top of a picnic table. A woman? Cas thought so, but she couldn’t see who, and whoever it was wasn’t moving. Not at all.
Cas jerked her attention back up to the third floor and saw flames. Fire licked the bricks and roof above one of the windows of a room facing the back of the courtyard, scorching the walls black.
How long until it spread? She could see water gushing from the hole in the side of the building to her left, which would help keep the fire contained on that side, but if it came this way, where the sprinklers weren’t working . . .
Cas climbed back toward the door. She couldn’t count on Frankie to get her out of here. Counting on people just led to disappointment.
“Ow!” she yelped as she caught her foot on something buried under the rubble, and crashed into the broken tiles and tables in front of her. Pain punched through her arm. She sucked in her breath and went still, hoping it would stop.
Oh, God.
Agony flooded her. She shifted to take the pressure off her arm. Her vision swam. The world spun, and as it did, she saw blood. Lots of it, oozing from a jagged tear in her forearm. Somewhere in the distance, she heard Frankie yell over the pounding of her heart, “I can’t open the door!”
She was going to get her wish, she thought as she grabbed for a splintered desk. She really was going to die.