Dusk Harbor 1999

The Fire (cont.)

Zoey stood in her human form, in the center of a small nursery that had green walls, teddy bears everywhere, and a pine wood crib near the window. A radio on the dresser playing a lullaby version of Enter Sandman by Metallica. The fire was just a floor above her. Eating through the floors and making it's way down the stories. She stalked over to the little crib and leaned over the side of it. Looked inside. Saw a sweet little child in a polka-dotted onesie, sleeping with a tiny grin on his face.

Zoey reached down and scooped up the baby into her arms, and held him against her chest.

A loud crack, like an old tree snapping in half, startled her. Jolted the baby awake. The poor child began to cry and scream.

The ceiling above them buckled and cracked, and a giant flaming slab of it crashed to the ground right beside Zoey. A cloud of debris flew up at her, and she used her hand to shield the baby's face from it. The baby used it's tiny hands to tug at her shirt, and pull her hair.

Zoey turned to bolt for it as the flames climbed up the walls and across the floor, and another piece of the ceiling collapsed and fell right before her. Blocking the exit. The boy screeched and screwed up his little face. Tears went flowing.

She held him tighter and used one hand to shove the crib away from the window. It gave the fire some fuel to chew away at. She tore open the window, and nearly fell from a ten-story drop. It was a long, surely deadly fall. No porch, no fire escape, just windows all the way down. She grabbed the radio off the dresser and shattered the window with it in anger. The radio went tumbling to it's death, the music faded away.

She looked out again, looked down, saw a six-inch ledge jutting out from under the window. Looked to the right, and saw a small steel window washing platform about ten windows away. Hovering there like a miracle. She looked back into the room, threw open all the drawers of the dresser, and tossed a bunch of baby clothes out of it. Found a chest harness. 

She set the baby on the ground for a moment, immediately heard the voices in her head yelling at her not to ever set a baby down, and tried to ignore them as she strapped the harness onto herself. Made sure it was tight. She picked up the baby and placed him into the kangaroo pouch that the harness had created.

The fire edged closer. She carefully stuck one leg out of the window, at a snail's pace. If she could have been in cat form, it would have gone a lot faster. A lot smoother. But she had a baby to carry, and so she had to remain human. She locked her arms on the inside of the window, anchoring herself while she pulled her other leg through the window. She took a deep breath. Pushed her heels against the underside of the window. Held her breath.

Her toes went over the ledge. Her stomach churned. Heights didn't scare her. Dropping a baby did.

With another deep inhale she took her arms out of the window, straightened up, and pressed them against her sides. She stood silently, looked out at all the shimmering lights of the buildings in front of her. The whirring helicopters overhead. The blue and red flashing from cop cars and firetrucks below. A hard knot formed in her throat. When she tried to swallow against it grew tighter. With the baby in the way, she couldn't even look at her feet to be sure of where she was putting them. She had to go purely off of feeling and prayer.

She shuffled her right foot a few inches to the right. Brought her left foot to meet the first. Edged away from the open window and onward to the danger of all the flat smooth glass that she could not find purchase on if she started to topple forward. She inched along, her heart beating so loud that she could hear it and feel it pounding against her rib cage. Her palms became moist with sweat, and she pressed them against the glass in an attempt to cool them down.

A cold night breeze blasted into her from the side, she gasped as her body swayed forward. She froze and pushed all her weight into her feet and fought the urge to close her eyes. Hot tears formed and slid down her face. Wind always made her eyes water up.