The Way We Fall | Bruce Wayne

CHAPTER 17 - Nightmare

Sara's eyes remained fixed on the road as Bruce drove the Lamborghini back to her apartment building. They were both silent, the only sounds came from the acceleration of the car. The tension felt stronger than if they'd have been talking.

Bruce's gaze was fixed on the road, but his attention seemed to be elsewhere ever since the security report. He had the same look on his face that he had in every meeting - the appearance of one lost in thought.

Out of all the things she believed about him, Sara knew one thing for certain. Bruce was no idiot. A few days ago, she would have thought otherwise. But there was more behind those hazel eyes than he let on.

Sara released her seatbelt as the Lamborghini stopped alongside the curb. For the first time in thirty minutes, she addressed Bruce directly. "Thank you for the escort this evening," she said cordially, her expression neutral.

He looked to her and nodded, smiling half-heartedly.

Leaving his jacket on the seat, Sara stepped out of the sports car. With one hand she held her clutch bag and with the other she turned the knob on the apartment building's front door. She turned back briefly to see Bruce watching, politely waiting for her to enter the building. Without acknowledging, Sara stepped inside and shut the door.

Hearing the Lamborghini growl in acceleration again as it drove off, she let out a sigh.

As she settled into her apartment, Sara was able to process the eventful night. Her thoughts spiraled from Philip to Bruce, then to the security footage. Funny, the investors were last thing on her mind. If the embezzlement case wasn't settled, she wasn't sure how much they would matter. Without financial security, the plan would fall through. The more she pondered, the more she considered Philip Miller being right about their partnership. What if, after all this, it was unsuccessful? And worse, what if it would be because of her?

Sara laid her head on her pillow, staring at the ceiling until her eyelids felt heavy enough to sleep.

———

Smoke. She was back in the impound yard. She had tossed a smoke grenade to the ground, blinding security guards as she began to make her escape. The stench filled her nostrils even as she navigated around the parked cars.

It seeped into her mask, eliciting a cough as she felt the oncoming suffocation. Looking back up, she was engulfed in it. The thick black haze consuming her surroundings.

A single grenade wouldn't have created this much smoke.

Panicking, Sara ran blindly through the darkness, her eyes burning. Then, she felt the heat. Flames bursted from a car, feeding the haze. She heard GCPD sirens approaching in the distance.

Struggling to breathe, she tore the mask off her face as she ran toward the sounds. She didn't care if she was caught. She wanted to survive.

The impound felt like a maze. In her blindness, she felt trapped.

With a scream, Sara jolted upright, trembling as her breathing came in gasps. She sat on her bed in sweat.

Coughing, she looked around her bedroom frantically. Actual smoke was filling the room. And sirens - no, alarms - rang in her ears.

And the sweat wasn't because of the nightmare. It was from the heat.

Sara leapt to her feet and sprang for the bedroom door. The moment her hand touched the metal doorknob, she pulled it back with a shriek. Her hand stung from the burn. That meant one thing, the fire was right outside her door.

She stood back and attempted to gather the thoughts that ran wild in her mind. Smoke continued to fill her room from the bottom of the door and the air conditioning vent. Sara rushed to stuff a blanket under the door, hoping to block out what she could. But looking at the vent, she knew her options were limited.

The only windows in her apartment were in the main living room and kitchen - right outside the door. If she could somehow get through to the fire escape...

Her eyes watered and stung. As the smoke continued to fill the room, she felt the oncoming lightheadedness. Even as she crouched to avoid the thick haze, every inhale irritated her lungs, forcing repeated coughs.

Either she should wait for rescue, or she should charge through whatever awaited on the other side. Too much time had already passed when she heard firetruck and police sirens outside. She already felt weak and dizzy. That left one choice.

Sara grabbed a shirt and wrapped it around her hand. With her other hand, she felt the door. Even the door felt hot. Gathering all the courage she could, she used the shirt-covered hand to open the door, only to be met by a living room consumed by flames. Heat rushed into her face as she dropped to a crawl.

Forcing her way into the flaming room, she aimed to get to the closest window. Immense heat and smoke made it impossible to see. She felt her face and hands burn as she attempted to crawl with her eyes squeezed shut.

Suffocation choked her by the time she reached the window. The combination of fumes and lack of oxygen pulled her closer and closer into unconsciousness.

She tried to get up to reach the window, but the moment she raised herself, she felt the world begin to fade. Sara fell back to the floor, her lungs feeling as if they were filled with fire.

The last thing she could comprehend was the distinct sound of a crash and shards of glass landing beside her.