"Damnit damnit damnit," I cried, tears falling out of pure helplessness as I got back down the ladder, looking for a stone to use to break the glass, so I could reach in to unlock it.
I knew the fire department was on its way.
But they might not be fast enough.
Fires could spread so quickly.
They could engulf a home in no time.
A blazing inferno that no one could get into or get anyone out of.
I couldn't wait.
I had to try to get him out myself.
Why wasn't he answering me?
Even as I screamed over and over from outside the window as I slammed the brick against it, reaching inside, feeling the broken glass slicing up my arm, the blood flowing down.
But the lock turned in my hand.
And the door slid open when I tried again.
It wasn't relief that rushed my system. It was too soon for relief. But it was a small victory.
Taking a deep breath, I hauled myself in through the window, falling gracelessly onto the floor inside, slamming my shoulder against the nightstand as I went down.
An action hero, I was not.
But it didn't matter how stupid I looked, or how hurt I got, doing it. All that mattered was getting my brother out of the house.
Smoke was starting to billow in from under the door, and I rushed at it, tossing a blanket under, trying to slow it down.
It's the smoke that gets you.
And I needed an extra minute to get Shep out.
"Shep! Shep, wake up!" I screamed, rushing at the bed, shaking him.
Why wasn't he waking up?
My hand went to his chest, feeling a gentle rise and fall.
Alive.
He was alive.
That was all that mattered.
We could deal with why he was unconscious later. Once I somehow got him out of the house.
He was too heavy for me to carry.
His chair. I could use his chair.
I whipped the blankets off his body, grabbing his legs, wincing as I manhandled him, hoping I wasn't causing too much damage as I awkwardly got him up and into the chair.
Damage was better than dead.
Once he was in the chair, I went to run, nearly sending him flying to the floor because I hadn't undone the brakes.
"Okay okay okay. It's okay," I mumbled to myself, needing to hear something other than the rush of my own heartbeat in my ears and the fire out in the hall that sounded like it was roaring at me.
"Alright. Almost there," I told myself, reaching to set the brakes, then grabbing Shep, bear-hugging him out of his chair, feeling my arms and back scream at the additional weight, but the adrenaline must have been making me stronger than I typically was, because I got him up with his upper body laying across the sill.
It was a long way down.
Likely on his head.
"Pillows," I said to myself, rushing back to the bed, grabbing everything off of it, and shoving it through the small space above Shep's unconscious body.
That was as good as it was going to get.
He might still hit his head.
I let myself worry about the complications of that for a long second before I noticed the air in the room was getting thick.
Turning, my heart flew up into my throat at the flames lapping at the walls, moving fast.
Too fast.
And I still didn't hear the fire whistle. Or the trucks.
"Just... just don't die, Shep," I demanded, crying as I knelt down, grabbing his legs, and pushing with everything I had in me.
A cough racked my system as I stood back up, leaning over to see Shep's body resting on the makeshift padding.
Not on his head.
Not at a really unnatural angle.
Still breathing.
"Okay," I said, taking another breath, finding it thick and uncomfortable, getting caught in my chest as my eyes burned.
I don't know why I looked, why I wasted another second by doing so, but I glanced back over my shoulder at the fire that was eating through Shep's dresser.
I tried to take another breath, but it burned too much, leaving me coughing as I finally pulled myself up, pushed through the window, and fell down near Shep's head.
We were still too close to the house.
I had to get up.
"Okay, we're almost safe," I promised my brother as I grabbed the blanket he was resting on as I scrambled up to a crouch, pulling.
And falling.
And pulling.
And falling.
Over and over until my ass felt like a giant bruise, but we were finally a safe distance from the house.
"Shep?" I cried, pressing my fingers into his throat, feeling only a hollow sort of relief at finding a pulse there.
Why wasn't he waking up?
I could hear the sirens then, making their way across town.
Coming to save us.
Not the house.
The house was ruined.
The entire thing was up in flames.
It felt surreal, like a movie, watching the flames start to dance around the window I'd just gotten us out of the house through.