FRIENDLY FIRE: A 9-1-1 fanfiction

Part Twenty-Nine: Ready, Set, Run

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EMMA

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I ran.

At first, I actually considered fighting with him but I wasn't so wrapped up in my own pride to think that I could win a fight in my condition. I hadn't eaten, I had barely drank, I was exhausted and I was injured; Larry had the upper hand right now and I had to be aware of that at all times.

So I ran, back up the stairs, taking two at a time, trying to put enough distance between the two of us for me to either hide or find another way out.

"You can't keep running!" Larry heaved out as I reached the forth floor again.

"I can try," I managed to grunt out to myself before opening the fire escape door and stepping into the hallway. 

Smoke was steadily rolling down the main stairway, starting to coat the air with a tinge of grey that made it harder to see and harder to breathe.

I rushed ahead as quickly as I could, making for the end of the hallway where a large window was facing the parking lot. There were police cars and fire trucks parked below, along with a gradually growing crowd of spectators; unfortunately, I couldn't tell if the 118 were amongst them.

I sighed, taking a step back from the window and turning around, going to make my way back into the hallway.

That was until I felt something sharp pierce through my skin, puncturing my stomach.

I let out an unwilling gasp, my hands covering Larry's as I made eye contact with him before looking down at the shard of glass sticking out of my body.

"I told you that you can't keep running," he mumbled out, his face twitching as he tried to glare and smile at the same time. "I told you." He jerked the glass back out of my body just as quickly as he'd stabbed it into me, shoving me back.

My back hit the wall and I clasped my hands over my wound, trying to apply any pressure I could to slow down the bleeding.

Larry walked in front of me, studying the bloody glass in his hand, "Now..." he turned back to me, "let's end this the way it was supposed to end."

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EDDIE

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"Okay, this was originally supposed to be a minor, compartment fire but that is no longer the case," Boddy announced as we stepped out of the truck. "This building does not have a working fire prevention system, all the sprinklers were disabled months ago and none of the fire escape exits are safe to use."

"How were people allowed to live here then?" Hen shook her head in disappointment, eyeing the tall building gradually burning.

"Most of the residents are undocumented and afraid of the police, they went wherever they could find a home," Athena's voice called out and we turned to her as she approached. "The owner of the building has already been taken into custody, we found a list of residents on his phone, everyone seems to be accounted for except one."

"Who?" Bobby frowned.

"A man in his mid forties," Athena sighed, "his flat is registered under the name John Smith."

"Now, I've heard some bad aliases," Buck snorted, "but that has to be the worst one so far. It's like this guy is trying to get noticed."

 "Whatever the case, he's unaccounted for which means he may still be in the buil—"