Unsung

Chapter Eighty-Nine

My friends were gone and I was alone. There was no one to save me now. Nobody, that is, except for me.

I started to laugh at the absurdity of it, but as soon as I heard myself, I began to sob instead. Neither seemed appropriate and I didn't have the energy to let go yet.

Forcing in another painful breath, I searched for some way out. Fire loomed around me, inching its way up the buildings' walls until it was only a few feet below my own.

The only place to go was up.

I glanced in the direction of the third story of the parkour office, the one that gave the structure its namesake. The one that only a handful of people had made it to the top of. The one that was totally out of my reach and out of my league.

To get there, I'd have to climb out one of the windows, jump to reach the bottom rung on a makeshift ladder of pipes that led up the side of the building. But the pipes only went so far before disappearing, forcing the person climbing to reach for the impossibly-placed hand-holds littered across the face of the building. To make it to the top, I would literally need to be like Spider Man. And with a cracked—most certainly broken—rib, a possible concussion and serious lack of the skill-set needed, the odds were stacked against me. And what was I supposed to do when I got up there? Wait until the fire reached me, just a little bit later than it would've if I stayed put? It'd save me a little time, but then I'd be in the same situation I was now, only higher in the air.

But what was the alternative? Give up now?

I closed my eyes in an effort to keep from crying. The tears came anyway, clinging to my eyelashes with ridiculous efficiency. The heat was picking up as the fire raged and began to dry my eyes before I could wipe them clean. When I finally forced them open again, my gaze landed on Austin.

Only, he wasn't just lying there anymore.

He was awake now and struggling to sit up. I watched dumbfounded as he searched around frantically, trying to come to terms with what was happening, searching for anyone in the vicinity that might be able to help.

He was alive. And he needed help.

Then his eyes fell on me.

I could see the wave of emotions pass over him. At first, there was relief. This only lasted a brief second before quickly giving way to guilt, and finally settling on fear. He scanned the area again, looking for anyone else that could come to his rescue. When he came up empty, his gaze settled back on me.

And then he just...relaxed. The anguish melted away and it was as if he'd finally accepted what was going to happen.

He was giving up.

He was giving up because he thought he didn't deserve to be saved.

But he'd forgotten the number one thing Cain had taught us.

Everyone deserved to be saved.

With renewed conviction, I looked up, searching for something I hadn't seen before. Anything that could get me out of this situation and down onto the floor with Austin.

And then I saw it.

A foot to the right of one of the ladder rungs was a metal beam that jutted out from the wall and ran the length of the room. It held most of the electrical that lit the center, though I could see dozens of lamps that had dropped to the ground below during the explosion. Halfway across the room, a section of the beam had been knocked to the ground by collapsed chunks of the concrete ceiling, making it impossible to get to the other side.