Silent Sabotage. Susan Sleeman

He admired this trait, but she would only succeed in killing them both.

      His lungs were starting to burn from the smoke, but he ignored the pain and intense desire to get fresh air. He hurried to Emily, moved her out of the way and lifted her aunt into a firefighter’s hold over his shoulder.

      “Go, now!” he shouted at Emily, who was staring up at him, but not moving.

      “I...”

      He rounded the bed and grabbed her by the wrist, directing her into the hallway. “Pull your shirt up and cover your mouth. Try to stay as low as you can.”

      As he stepped to the door, water sprinkled from the open window. The fire department couldn’t have arrived yet so the people downstairs must have deployed a garden hose.

      Please, Lord, let it be enough water to calm this fire.

      As they descended the steps, the air became easier to breathe, but his lungs were still raw with pain. His throat was dry, his eyes stinging. Emily kept looking back, slowing them down, and keeping Birdie from needed oxygen. He pushed past Emily and hoped she followed. If she had the strength. If she didn’t, he’d settle Birdie outside and come back for Emily.

      He hit the main level and looked back one last time before racing out the door. Emily’s eyes went wide, and she crumpled to the floor. Archer’s heart stuttered, and yet, he couldn’t help her now.

      He burst onto the porch and down the steps, nearly running over a burly man in bib overalls. Archer ripped the T-shirt from his mouth and gulped deep breaths of air.

      “What can I do?” the man asked, his focus on Birdie. “I know CPR if that helps.”

      Archer didn’t think twice but handed Birdie over to him. “She’s breathing and shouldn’t need CPR, but help her any way you can. I’m going back in for Emily.”

      He charged up the steps to the foyer. Found Emily crawling toward the door. She batted her eyes, and her breathing was labored.

      Fear roiled through him as he scooped her up and barreled out the door.

      Please, Father, please. Emily. Birdie. Let them both be okay.

      Emily continued to battle watery eyes and struggled to breathe. She coughed, then gasped and coughed some more. Despite her pain, he remained optimistic. She hadn’t lost consciousness and could breathe on her own. That was a good sign.

      “Birdie,” Emily finally eked out. “Take me to her. Please...I need to see her.”

      He thought to argue in case Birdie had taken a turn for the worse, but Emily would fight him off and worsen her own health in the process. He scanned the crowd and saw the man in the overalls kneeling in the grass by the bouncy house where Birdie lay.

      “I see her,” Archer said and started his way through the crowd.

      Emily’s coughing fits eased and her breathing improved, but her body remained limp and she made no move to get free.

      As the crowd parted, Archer saw another man kneeling next to Birdie, and he seemed to be assessing Birdie’s condition. She wore an oxygen mask and Archer followed the line to a mobility cart where an older man sat, his breathing labored.

      The man in overalls stood. “Doc’s tending to her. Said the oxygen is working and she’ll be okay.”

      Emily squirmed out of his hold and knelt by Birdie, whose eyes were closed.

      “Birdie, it’s me, Emily. Open your eyes.”

      Nothing. A guttural sound of pain came from Emily’s throat.

      How many times in one day did this poor woman have to deal with potential death and loss?

      Anger burned in Archer’s soul.

      It’s not fair, Lord. She’s suffering. Help her, please.

      Birdie’s eyes fluttered open, and Emily’s shoulders sagged. Archer wanted to follow suit, but he had to stay strong for her and for the crowd. Law enforcement officers were trained to take control and people expected that from them. If he lost his command presence here, people would panic and then he’d have chaos on top of everything else.