Page 100

Together, we shove once more. The rack moves farther this time.

I reposition the pipe and push with everything I have left. The shelving finally lifts high enough for Jules to drag himself free. He collapses against me with a strangled cry, his injured ankle twisting awkwardly beneath him.

“We've got to go.” I wrap an arm around his waist and help him to his feet.

Jules tries to put weight on his foot and instantly sucks in a sharp breath. “Yeah, that's definitely broken.”

Before I can answer, a terrible groan echoes overhead. Both of us freeze. The sound comes again, louder this time.

Jules's eyes widen. “Maggie⁠—”

I look up just as part of the ceiling gives way.

Everything happens at once. Wood crashes down. Dust and sparks explode through the hallway. Something slams into my shoulder hard enough to throw me sideways, taking Jules down with me.

Pain rips through me when I hit the floor hard enough to drive the air from my lungs. For a few disorienting seconds, the world is nothing but ringing. Then the noise returns in a rush, bringing with it the roar of flames, violent coughing, and the sound of my own uneven breathing.

“Maggie?” Jules calls weakly through the haze.

I force myself upright, every part of me protesting. “I'm here.”

Dust and smoke churn through the hallway, making it nearly impossible to see, but I don't need perfect visibility to understand what happened.

The corridor behind us is gone.

Burning beams, shattered drywall, twisted shelving, and chunks of the collapsed ceiling now fill the space where our exit had stood only moments earlier. Flames crawl hungrily across the debris, throwing violent orange light against the walls.

For the first time since this nightmare began, the enormity of it all sinks in. We’re not rescuing animals anymore. We're trapped.

I stare at the mountain of burning debris where the hallway used to be. Flames creep greedily across shattered wood and broken drywall. Heat rolls toward us in relentless waves, and smoke churns through the narrow corridor, thick enough now that every breath feels like inhaling sand.

Jules coughs. The harsh, wet sound snaps me back into motion. I crawl toward him on shaking hands and knees and grab his arm.

“Can you move?”

“Define move.” He grimaces as he pushes himself upright, immediately hissing in pain. “The ankle's definitely broken, but I can still crawl if I have to.”

“You're not crawling.” I slip an arm around his waist and help him sit up. My shoulder screams in pain from where the ceiling hit me, but I ignore it. “We're getting’ out of here.”

Smoke churns around us, thick and acrid. Every breath burns. I force myself to look away from the collapsed hallway long enough to study our surroundings.

The storage corridor branches in three directions. One now ends in a wall of fire and debris. Another leads toward the old grooming room near the rear employee entrance. The third ends at the supply room.

Hope sparks.

“The grooming room,” I say. “There's an exterior door.”

Jules nods weakly. “Lead the way.”

Together, we struggle to our feet. Jules leans heavily against me as we stagger through the smoke-filled hallway. Progress is painfully slow. Every few steps, he stumbles, and every few steps, I have to tighten my hold to keep both of us upright.

By the time we reach the grooming room, we're both coughing hard enough to shake.

“Please,” I whisper, reaching for the door. “Please work.”

I shove the rear exit open.

For one glorious second, I think we're saved. Then reality crashes down.