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She’d be damned if she died staring at the door she couldn’t open. There had to be a way.
Londyn leaned her head against the door and rocked backward in an attempt to get on her feet.
She rocked back all right, lost her balance and fell onto her back, smacking her head against the floor.
No. No. No. I will not let that bitch win.
Flames ate through the floor near the rear of the little cabin. Though the smoke rose, it was quickly filling the ceiling space and edging closer to the floor where Londyn lay.
Now would be a good time for people to notice the cabin was on fire and come check to see if anyone, namely Londyn Tyler-Lovejoy, was inside.
Once they noticed the fire, they’d come running. Londyn just had to make enough noise to alert them to the fact there was someone trapped inside. She prayed for help while rolling close to the door. Keeping her head as close to the floor and breathable air as she could, she kicked the door.
Her grandfather had taught her the Morse code for SOS. What was it again?
She kicked three short taps, three long and three short.
Not that it made a difference. If they saw the fire and heard banging, surely they wouldn’t try to read the code before breaking down the door.
All she knew was to keep kicking and praying.
Please, Nash, be okay. Come save me one more time. Three’s a charm, right?
Nash fought the pain in his back and leg, forcing himself to stand upright. He moved his arms and legs. Though they hurt, they worked. He didn’t think anything was broken.
As he turned, he smelled smoke.
“Fire!” someone yelled.
Even before he saw it, he knew it would be...
The cabin.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Nash shuffled one foot at a time, his muscles resisting every step of the way. He felt like he was in one of his nightmares where he couldn’t run because his legs were bogged down in swamp mud.
The more he pushed himself, the faster he moved until he was sprinting toward the cabin. As he neared, he heard banging from within.
When he reached the cabin, the banging had stopped. He tried opening the door, but the knob wouldn’t turn. “Londyn!” he yelled.
Another softer bang sounded against the door and stopped.
“Move away from the door!” he yelled.
Nash backed a step away, cocked his leg and kicked as hard as he could.
The door frame made a splitting sound but held.
He kicked it again, and the door opened halfway, bumping into something on the floor.
Smoke poured out, hitting Nash in the face and burning his eyes.
He ducked low and pushed against the door, moving whatever was blocking it until he could see inside.
The lump blocking the door was a body.
Nash’s heart leaped into his throat.
He dove through the door, immediately blinded by the smoke. Feeling along the floor, he found her, grabbed her arm and pulled her through the door.
