Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Counting down to the absolute second before I press it, I’m actually relieved to hear the deafening shrill ringing of the solid brass bells that must be original fixtures to the building.
A few folks groan and cover their ears, and those right at the back start saying something more about smelling smoke, but I can’t smell a damned thing.
We get about halfway through the office staff, and I check each one off when there’s an even bigger noise than the fire bell.
A sickening, low, and deep rumble is followed by a bang that’s so loud I hear my ears whine before I can’t hear anything at all.
Oh, and that smoke I couldn’t smell earlier?
Well, there’s a fuckton of it pouring into the office right now.
Thick black clouds of it filling our office like black ink poured into water.
I shout without hearing my own voice. Feeling my throat itch, my eyes are already stinging.
I tell everyone to stay calm, but it’s too late for that. I’m pushed out of the way, my folder, pen, and keys knocked from my hands before I’m nearly trampled by everyone else, scrambling for the exit.
The ringing in my ears is replaced by the sound of the fire bell again, and I can tell by the way everyone’s screaming and shouting that this is no joke.
This is not a drill anymore.
Shit just got real, and I scream in my mind to get it together and follow the rules for once.
Just get down those stairs, out the door, and down the fire escape. Then we’ll all be safe.
Picking myself up, I look across the office. It’s already so thick with smoke that it’s unrecognizable. As if in some kind of nightmarish dream, I keep low and get to the fire exit door, pulling it shut behind me.
The tiny stairwell to the exit is crammed with heavy breathing and wide-eyed people. People who look nothing like they did just a few minutes ago.
Everyone calms down a little, but I can’t figure out why they haven’t opened the exit and gone outside.
It’s right there in front of you guys, that huge red door. It leads right to the fire escape. But all eyes on me tell me the one thing everyone dreads.
Being locked in a burning building.
“The key, Bridget, hurry!” someone calls out, yanking the handle of the exit up and down as if that’ll unlock it.
The doors are supposed to be opened every morning.
By the boss.
Fucking Karen!
I don’t have time to hold the passing thought that she’s done this on purpose.
She couldn’t have.
The inner me wants to push past everyone else and yank at that door like a maniac, but if preparing for the drill did one thing, it made me remember to keep calm, no matter what.
“The keys…I dropped the keys,” I murmur to myself, feeling a flush of positive adrenalin as I crouch back down and open the office door a crack, spotting them a few feet in front of me.
I snatch the keys up after quickly crawling and turning to go back to the others. I can already hear true panic setting in. They’re literally all screaming now, and Nicole tries to push past me, heading straight back into the burning office.
“Toss the fucking keys already!” someone shouts.
The little stairwell is already thick with smoke. I figure it’s our best chance instead of trying to move through so many people quicker than I could just toss the keys.
But it’s Naomi who throws my aim, and as she gasps something about needing to get out, I hear the keys tinkle near the bottom of the steps, spraying off the metal ring that chose this very moment to stop being a keyring.
Naomi’s opened the office door and gets a few yards ahead of me, but I grab her blouse, and with a strange sensation of ease, I pull her back to me while spinning her around.
Literally shoving her back toward the exit, which she hurtles through.
Dropping down low again, as if instinct’s the only thing guiding me, I hear a loud pop and then the sound of breaking glass.
A rush of orange and white flames rushes over me for a second before they catch onto everything they touch.
The section of the ceiling above the exit right in front of me gives way, and I hear myself scream for real, loud and clear this time.
Groaning, I get lower than I thought they meant in those fire safety workshops but find out why it’s recommended. There’s literally no breathable air in the whole office, and the only exit I can see now is the huge window that just burst.
We’re three floors up, and the ledges outside are wide.
I reason that I stand a chance of getting out via the ledge to the fire escape more than I do, hugging the floor, choking to death.