Chapter 8 - The Final Breath
Thick, black smoke rolled across the cellar ceiling, pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket.
The flames devoured the wooden stairs, roaring with a terrifying hunger.
I coughed violently, my lungs burning with every desperately needed breath.
The sheriff groaned, slowly lifting his head from the dirt as the fire raged inches away from him.
He was severely disoriented and bleeding heavily from the back of his head.
I screamed his name, but my voice was lost over the roar of the fire.
Another contraction tore through my body, forcing me flat against the earth.
The baby was coming right now, surrounded by fire and toxic smoke.
I forced myself to crawl across the blistering dirt toward the officer.
Sparks rained down on my arms, burning small holes into my skin.
I grabbed the sheriff's collar with my bound hands and shook him with all my remaining strength.
His eyes fluttered open, wide with sudden, absolute terror.
He realized his gun was gone and we were trapped in a burning box.
The wooden ceiling beams began to groan under the intense heat of the flames.
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A massive, burning support pillar snapped in half right above us.
It plummeted downward, directly toward my unprotected stomach.
