Overexposed

Three 'T's

Chapter 3: Three ‘T’s

I’m not exactly sure how long I sit in that dusty security room, but I must sit there for a while because I doze off. There is no way to pretend that what my mind shows me is any form of okay.

I am presented with a dark, smoke filled room, though I can breathe perfectly fine. There is an open flame nearby and, while people say you can’t feel anything in dreams, there is no doubt that I can feel the heat, the burning. Someone is calling my name, screaming.

Haz.

There is a light suddenly before me, an escape route.

I might die in here, but if I don’t do anything, Haz WILL. Without hesitation, on my belly, I crawl deeper into the burning wreckage. Exposed wires and rubble dig into my flesh from every angle, even impossible ones like across my face and shoulders, but nothing actually prevents me from moving forward.

“Haz!” I call, trying to pinpoint his location, but he doesn’t even need to respond. I reach out and feel warmth. Not heat, but warmth. Skin. A hand.

He groans and I feel him move. Still alive. I have to get us out, but how? I could barely save POGs, how am I supposed to…?

I grab onto his hand and it only takes one blink.

Then we’re outside, surrounded by burning warehouses. Haz is leaning heavily on me, almost too much so. I’m collapsing under his weight.

There’s nowhere to go. They’re all up in flames. Tommo’s warehouse, Belladonna’s warehouse, the main one, mine. Prints’ words echo in my mind.

“Never leave any finger prints. The warehouses need to burn.”

Burn. Gone up in flames. Showers of cinders.

Like everything else around me.

“Ozzie?” Haz’s rusty voice yanks me from the post apocalyptic scene and my eyes open to find his expression flooded in confusion.

“Haz,” I sit up straighter, pulling my hand away from my stitches and trying to act casual. “What’s up?”

My palms are clammy and I’m trembling slightly. I need to calm down. I need to laugh or scream. Either would work, though one is probably preferable.

“You were, erm, moaning,” his voice cracks and he scratches at his hair line, trying to keep his tone nonchalant. Laugh it is.

“Yeah, I was dreaming about you,” I taunt, dropping one eyelid in a mockingly sleazy wink.

My companion’s lips curl up and he lets out a low hum, approaching slowly, “Oh really now?”

I get to my feet, fighting the wave of slight nausea that comes over me as the scenes of my dream flash behind my eyelids when I blink, “Of course.”

“And what were we doing in this dream of yours?” Haz closes the distance between us until the only way we could get any closer would be to touch. One of his arms is resting across his chest, the other one is holding the flashlight so that it touches his shoulder in a relaxed manner. This floods the space with the dim light, but at an odd angle, making everything extremely eerie and yet… kind of erotic. I’m not going to lie.

But I need a release and I know exactly what sassy remark will give me that.

“It was quite hot actually. I was pulling you out of a burning building,” I wrinkle my nose, giving his cheek a soft pat.

Haz joins me in a laugh, shaking his head, “Well that’s a little disappointing. You’ll have to tell me about it later. Anyways, POGs is awake and Tommo’s calling a meeting.”