Burning Wild

Chapter One

Harley's incessant barking woke me up. I nudged him with my foot, groaning as the sound echoed through the house. It was three in the morning, and I had a big presentation tomorrow. Of course Harley would want to play the night I needed sleep the most.

I rolled over and put a pillow over my head in a vain attempt to drown out the noise, but Harley was persistent, tugging at the sleeve of my sweatshirt, earnest that I wake up. I tried to ignore him, but he pulled harder and harder until I had no choice but to wake up.

"What?!" I snapped, sitting up in bed. He whined and jumped to the ground, running to the bedroom door and clawing at it like a lunatic. "Harley?" I asked. My frustrations turned to concern as I took in his crazed appearance.

Only then did I notice the murky gray smoke rolling into the room. My stomach dropped as the incandescent wisps spread menacingly around me, invading my nostrils with their acrid smell. The smoke detectors started screeching but judging by the thick haze of smoke surrounding me, they were too late to help. The wildfires had finally reached my home.

I was awake and immediately on my feet, coughing profusely as the putrid vapors filled my lungs. Harley rubbed his snout with his paws, the smoke causing discomfort to his sensitive nose. I scooped him into my arms and reached for the door handle in a panic, but I'd underestimated the extent of the blazing fire. The moment my hand touched the bronze doorknob, I cried out in pain. The metal was scolding and scorched my skin, leaving my palm an angry scarlet and tingling from the burn.

Recalling the fire safety tips we learned in primary school, I dropped to the ground where the smoke was less dense. Grabbing a blanket from my bed, I stuffed it beneath my bedroom door, hoping this would prevent some of the toxic fumes, though the room was already filled to the brim with smoke. It burned my eyes as I searched for an exit.

I could climb out of the window, but there was no fire escape and it was a risky drop from my third-floor bedroom to the hard ground below. The bedroom door was the most logical option, but based on the way my hand still burned, it was likely the fire was right outside the room. I paced back and forth as the smoke thickened. I fought back tears as I considered what option was the least likely to get me killed.

Only seconds had passed since I'd woken up, but it felt like I'd been captive in the burning house for hours. My heart pounded in my chest. My breathing accelerated, forcing even more of the rancid gasses down my already raw throat. Intense heat radiated through the room and caused sweat to soak my pajamas. I knew I couldn't contemplate my options any longer. Not if I wanted a chance at survival.

With all the courage I could muster, I slid the glass plane open and climbed onto the ledge, taking a moment to suck in gulps of fresh air. I refused to look down; I knew if I did, I would talk myself out of doing this, and that just wasn't an option right now. As dangerous as leaping from the window might be, if it came down to breaking my neck or burning alive, I would take the former.

I reached for Harley who whined and backed away, unsure. I scratched behind his ears, trying to reassure him, though I wasn't even sure myself. My stomach did nervous somersaults and my hands were shaking. I took a deep breath to steady myself, about to jump, when I heard a distant voice from the first floor.

"Is anyone in here?" someone asked.

"Upstairs!" I croaked, hoping the person could hear me over the blaring fire alarms.

The stairs outside my bedroom creaked and the door burst open. A man stepped inside, his figure blurry in the opaque fog. I narrowed my stinging eyes and made out the silhouette of the firefighter. I let out a relieved sigh and took a tentative step away from the window.