Page 8 of Torch’s Wildfire

My shoulder hits the wall instead.

“Shit.”

Something is very wrong.

I need to get outside.

Now.

I stumble down the hallway, one hand dragging along the wall to keep myself upright.

My head is pounding. My thoughts feel strangely sluggish, as if somebody has stuffed my brain with cotton.

I make it into the living room.

The kitchen window is somewhere beyond the couch.

I need to reach it.

I take another step.

My knees nearly give out.

I grab the back of the couch, but my fingers refuse to cooperate.

I fumble for my phone.

The stupid thing slips from my hand and hits the floor.

I stare down at it.

Pick it up.

Come on.

Just bend down and pick up the damn phone.

But my legs have apparently decided they've had enough of this particular adventure.

My knees buckle.

I hit the floor.

Hard.

Pain shoots through my hip.

I barely register it.

The room is spinning.

I try to crawl toward the kitchen.

My arms shake. My breathing sounds wrong.

Too fast.

Too shallow.