Читать книгу Sweet Poison - Janet Starr Hull - Страница 12

PROLOGUE

Flames roar over my head. “Get down! Get down” Lieutenant Skinner yells. “It’ going to flash over!” As I crawled along the narrow hallway of the burning trailer home, my left fire boot slid off.

Damn it! How can I fight a fire if my boot won’t stay on my foot?

I can’t see a thing! I can’t wear my contact lenses because they’ll melt in my eyes, and I can’t wear my glasses because then the oxygen mask won’t seal around my face. These things don’t really matter. In a structure fire, everything is pitch black and smoky. All I need to see are the flames.

The fire singes my eyelashes.

Looking up blindly, I greet a massive sheet of orange flame roaring toward me. Its color slides forward like an angry ghost. A tornadic rumble vibrates my body. It’s coming straight at me with a strong force. Suddenly, a blanket of intense heat envelopes me. Flames reach over my head and, boot or no boot, I am fighting this fire.

I’m not supposed to be doing this; I’m not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to be dead. And not by flames.

Two years ago, I was poisoned.