Page 144 of Summers at the Saint
“Can you walk? I think we need to get farther away from the fire.”
Livvy coughed and her lips formed a goofy smile. “Where we goin’?”
Felice had no idea how much time had passed since she’d called 911. Time seemed like an abstraction. She closed her eyes. Rest. She needed rest.
The blare of sirens awakened her. She shielded her eyes with her hand. Red swirling lights and bright white blinking lights cut through the darkness. Two ambulances and two fire trucks. They pulled up beside the dorm and the firefighters swarmed out.
“Over here!” she called, trying but failing to stand. “We’re over here!”
One of the firemen ran to her side. He looked down at Livvy. “Is she…”
“She’s in and out,” Felice said, coughing.
“Is there anyone else inside?”
“Don’t know.” Her throat was raw. “Maybe? Two other guys live here. I tried… broke the window… couldn’t see inside. Smoke… and then something exploded.”
“Where?” he said urgently. “Can you show me where they might be?”
Felice pointed toward the far side of the dorm. “Over there.”
The firefighter spoke into the radio on his shoulder. “Unit two, could be two people, west side of building.
“Do you know how the fire started?”
“Sleeping. Loud boom. Maybe something exploded? Couldn’t get out…”
An EMT ran up and knelt down beside Livvy. “Breathing is shallow. Erratic.”
He looked over at Felice. “Your face is cut. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“No. My friend. I don’t know what’s wrong with her. She’s in and out.”
“Okay. We’re gonna take care of both of you. My name’s Dave, by the way.”
Her throat ached. “Felice,” she managed to say. “And that’s Livvy.”
“You’re bleeding,” he said, gesturing to her feet, which were covered in blood.
“Oh. Glass. Broke window. Stepped on glass.”
He touched her arm. “Your hands are burned.”
She looked. The palms of her hands were red and blistering. And throbbing. Like her head, but different.
“Stu!” the EMT yelled at his partner. “Get the gurney. We’ve got a victim who’s unconscious.”
A moment later Stu ran up with a rolling gurney.
“What’s wrong with that one?” he asked, pointing to Livvy. He knelt beside her, tried to pull Livvy’s eyelids open.
“Any chance y’all were doing drugs?” he asked.
“No!” Felice coughed.
“You sure?” Dave asked. “No judgment, but your friend looks stoned.”
Felice’s head hurt so much. She tried to concentrate, to remember what had happened earlier in the night. An image flashed in herbrain. Livvy, finishing off the wine from the bottle in the fridge. And herself, sipping half a glass of kombucha before the jug got knocked over.
