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He looks up, sees the balcony doors less than ten feet in front of him. How did he get on the ground?
His chest hurts.
“Evan? Evan!?”
He groans, wincing at the pain in his chest from the smoke. He tries to cough, but that doesn’t seem to help much.
“Come on, Evan, open your eyes.”
It feels impossible, and he winces against the struggle, but he manages to get them open to half-slits, sees the vague outline of a helmet and oxygen mask in front of him. He tries to talk, but it mostly come out as a gurgled moan as his fingers sluggishly brush over the plastic of the mask on the firefighter above him.
“God damn it, I need assistance up in 320! One occupant, barely responsive and injured. Going to need immediate transport.”
The voice gets suddenly clearer halfway through the statement, and Evan tries to force his eyes open, recognizing that tone immediately. But then, the mask is being pressed down over his nose and mouth, and even though he’s weak, the sudden gush of clear, fresh air is a godsend to his lungs.
“T…T…”
“I’m here, baby,” Tommy tells him. “Just breathe. I’m gonna get you out of here.”
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Bookmark Notes:
Firefly🧚🏾