Page 7 of Shadow of Deceit
She protruded from the doggie door, her upper body crumpled to the ground, but she was breathing.
Alive.
He should be able to pry her free before the flames reached her, but the smoke she’d already inhaled could still claim her life.
His steps faltered as uncertainty settled over him like the thick smoke billowing from the barn. This was too close for comfort.
God, don’t let this end the way it did with Cara.
“Are you okay?” Ryan called to Mia.
She craned her neck at him, and her eyes fluttered open. Tears glistened, most likely smoke-induced. No sign of recognition.
She didn’t know it was him. Probably a good thing.
“Did you find Jessie?” Her tone was frantic. “Is she okay?”
Yeah, this was Mia all right. Always concerned for others in distress. “She’s fine. She’s with the EMTs, and I called her dad.”
“Good, I wanted to—” A harsh cough tore her words away. The spasm intensified, racking her body.
This wasn’t good. He only had his pry bar.
He slammed it into the door and prayed it was tool enough to do the job. There was no one else to help, and there was no time to get another tool as the blaze flared to life around them.
* * *
Mia’s heart threatened to explode as the heat surged toward her legs.
“Keep your head down,” the firefighter yelled through his mask.
Ryan? Could it be him?
“I’m prying the door frame free. Should have you out in no time.”
He shoved the big bar into the wood and rippling shocks traveled toward the ground. Waves of pain reverberated into her injured side. She held her lip fast between clamped teeth.
Heat advanced her way. She couldn’t see the flames, but they were coming.
Angry. Seeking. Terrifying.
She drew her legs up as far as she could.
The firefighter jammed the pry bar in again. Could he free her in time?
Panic set in, and she couldn’t breathe.
He repeated the thrust of his arms.
One. Two. Three. All the way to seven.
The wood gave way and the door frame split in two. The metal tool clunked to the ground, and her face plunged toward the dirt.
“Got you,” he said, clutching her under the arms before she face-planted as he ripped the door free. “Can you stand?”
Could her legs hold her? That was the real question. She took an assessment. “My legs are numb.”
“Then I’ll have to carry you.” He didn’t wait for her agreement but in one swift motion, slipped his hands under her legs and lifted her.
