kitten. He grabbed the small cardboard tube of treats Deacon had purchased several days earlier and started shaking it. “Groucho. Treat.”
Aaron coughed again, using the bottom half of the towel to wipe at his burning eyes. Just when he’d given up hope, he saw a series of black spots through the thick smoke. Afraid of scaring the kitten, he dropped to his knees and shook the container again. His efforts were rewarded when Groucho climbed into Aaron’s lap.
Aaron shoved the kitten under his shirt and ran to the door. He took the steps three at a time, nearly dumping himself on his ass. Flames billowed out of the shop window licking towards the night sky as Aaron fought to control his coughing. Shit. From the size of the fire, Aaron knew there was a strong possibility it would spread before the fire department could contain it. He thought of the other apartments that lined the upper floors of the downtown buildings.
With only a moment’s hesitation, Aaron tucked his shirt into his jeans to secure Groucho before he started to yell. “Fire!”
O’Brien’s Pub was the closest, so he started there. “Fire!” he screamed again. He found a stray board beside Deacon’s shed and used it to break a small window on the first floor. The moment the glass broke, a loud alarm sounded. Thank God. “Fire!” he repeated, his lungs starting to give out.
When a light in the apartment above turned on, Aaron shouted the warning once more before moving down the block. He heard the sirens and hoped they would help alert people to the situation.
Aaron ran up the back stairs to the apartment above the small hardware store. He pounded on the door several times with no response before breaking the window. Groucho protested the action and swiped at Aaron’s chest with his claws, scrambling to get out of the protective cocoon. “Shhhh.” Aaron did his best to calm the kitten with his free hand. He waited for a light to go on, but when the interior remained dark and no alarm sounded, he worried the smoke was already overcoming the occupant.
With only a moment’s hesitation, Aaron finished clearing the glass from the window and stuck his head inside. “Fire! Get out!” Although not as thick as the smoke in Deacon’s apartment, it was obvious the fire was spreading. He untucked his shirt and grabbed Groucho, giving him a quick snuggle before setting him down and urging him down the steps. “You can’t go in here with me, baby.”
As he crawled through the window, an errant shard of glass he hadn’t seen scraped along his back. He swallowed the curse, saving his energy for his task ahead and prayed Groucho would find a safe place to hide out.
Aaron had no idea who lived upstairs, but he had seen a light on before. Having lost his wet rag when he’d ran out of Deacon’s apartment, Aaron was forced to use his T-shirt to try and stem the amount of smoke getting into his lungs. “Fire!”
He dropped to the kitchen floor, coughing. “Fire,” he tried again in the midst of a coughing fit. Staying low to the floor, Aaron crawled through the apartment towards where he hoped he’d find a bedroom.
When he saw spots instead of the room in front of him, he knew he was in trouble. Vision useless in the thick smoke, Aaron felt his way through the living room. He continued as straight a path as he could manage until he felt the wall. Rising to his knees, Aaron felt around until he located one of the large front windows. He blindly searched for something to break the glass, hoping it would draw the fire towards him, but like most fires, the smoke was his immediate concern.
He threw the first object he managed to find and was rewarded with the sound of breaking glass. The noise from the gathering crowd grew louder as Aaron struggled to stand enough to stick his head out the window. Smoke from the interior of the apartment followed his upper body as he struggled to get a fresh breath of air.
“Up there,” someone below shouted.
Aaron gulped at
Aaron coughed again, using the bottom half of the towel to wipe at his burning eyes. Just when he’d given up hope, he saw a series of black spots through the thick smoke. Afraid of scaring the kitten, he dropped to his knees and shook the container again. His efforts were rewarded when Groucho climbed into Aaron’s lap.
Aaron shoved the kitten under his shirt and ran to the door. He took the steps three at a time, nearly dumping himself on his ass. Flames billowed out of the shop window licking towards the night sky as Aaron fought to control his coughing. Shit. From the size of the fire, Aaron knew there was a strong possibility it would spread before the fire department could contain it. He thought of the other apartments that lined the upper floors of the downtown buildings.
With only a moment’s hesitation, Aaron tucked his shirt into his jeans to secure Groucho before he started to yell. “Fire!”
O’Brien’s Pub was the closest, so he started there. “Fire!” he screamed again. He found a stray board beside Deacon’s shed and used it to break a small window on the first floor. The moment the glass broke, a loud alarm sounded. Thank God. “Fire!” he repeated, his lungs starting to give out.
When a light in the apartment above turned on, Aaron shouted the warning once more before moving down the block. He heard the sirens and hoped they would help alert people to the situation.
Aaron ran up the back stairs to the apartment above the small hardware store. He pounded on the door several times with no response before breaking the window. Groucho protested the action and swiped at Aaron’s chest with his claws, scrambling to get out of the protective cocoon. “Shhhh.” Aaron did his best to calm the kitten with his free hand. He waited for a light to go on, but when the interior remained dark and no alarm sounded, he worried the smoke was already overcoming the occupant.
With only a moment’s hesitation, Aaron finished clearing the glass from the window and stuck his head inside. “Fire! Get out!” Although not as thick as the smoke in Deacon’s apartment, it was obvious the fire was spreading. He untucked his shirt and grabbed Groucho, giving him a quick snuggle before setting him down and urging him down the steps. “You can’t go in here with me, baby.”
As he crawled through the window, an errant shard of glass he hadn’t seen scraped along his back. He swallowed the curse, saving his energy for his task ahead and prayed Groucho would find a safe place to hide out.
Aaron had no idea who lived upstairs, but he had seen a light on before. Having lost his wet rag when he’d ran out of Deacon’s apartment, Aaron was forced to use his T-shirt to try and stem the amount of smoke getting into his lungs. “Fire!”
He dropped to the kitchen floor, coughing. “Fire,” he tried again in the midst of a coughing fit. Staying low to the floor, Aaron crawled through the apartment towards where he hoped he’d find a bedroom.
When he saw spots instead of the room in front of him, he knew he was in trouble. Vision useless in the thick smoke, Aaron felt his way through the living room. He continued as straight a path as he could manage until he felt the wall. Rising to his knees, Aaron felt around until he located one of the large front windows. He blindly searched for something to break the glass, hoping it would draw the fire towards him, but like most fires, the smoke was his immediate concern.
He threw the first object he managed to find and was rewarded with the sound of breaking glass. The noise from the gathering crowd grew louder as Aaron struggled to stand enough to stick his head out the window. Smoke from the interior of the apartment followed his upper body as he struggled to get a fresh breath of air.
“Up there,” someone below shouted.
Aaron gulped at
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