Ashley Monroe opened her eyes. At first she didn't know what woke her. The stocking cap on her head and her winter coat muffled most of the noise from the neighbors. A frightened scream, so different than shouted curses which normally graced her nights, yanked her upright.

Smoke twisted through the room like menacing phantoms. Eyes wide, she listened to the whoop of sirens. Her heart thudded against her chest as they whooped closer, rattling the glass in her window. A child wailed. A knock, more of a thud, landed on the door of her one-room apartment and she jumped to her feet.

"Fire! Fire! Get out!" A man shouted through the wood. More thumping on the door next to hers and the same phrase repeated.

The smoke burned into her lungs and she coughed as her eyes began to water. She kicked angrily at the blankets when they tangled around her ankles. A cry rose in her throat. The floor was almost too hot to walk on. The door, the door, get out the door. Six floors up, she thought, six floors. Dear God, let the stairwell be clear.

Ashley grasped the knob, thankful for the cool feel of metal as she turned and pulled. Nothing. The door didn't budge. She yanked again, rattling the ancient knob in a frenzy. Open! Open, dammit! With a gasp, she swallowed the hysteria. Don't panic. Don't panic.

The deadbolt. The door was locked. She twisted the button and pulled again. This time the door swung open. She rushed into the hall, only to be slammed backward as a frantic, plump woman in a dime-store nightgown flew past, bellowing incoherently.

Ashley recovered and took off down the hall. Her bare feet hit hot floorboards and she cursed. No shoes, and three feet of snow outside. She joined the throng trying to cram into the stairwell. A man shoved her from behind. Someone stepped on her bare foot with heavy boots and she cried out.

The sound was drowned by the high-pitched sopranic panic. A short man, his undershirt rounded over a beer belly, hollered over the noise.

"Out of my way!" His terror rolled the yellowed whites of his eyes. "Let me out! I gotta get out!"

His hand fell on her shoulder as the blocked stairwell opened and the throng pressed forward. He used her like a pogo-stick, forcing her to her knees as he flung himself toward the exit. The floor, dirty wood as hot as asphalt at the height of summer, burned into her hands and bare knees.

"Please," she cried hoarsely. Smoke billowed out from the vent on the mopboard. She coughed again as a woman kicked her in the ribs and sprawled beside her. Wild with fear, the woman scrambled to her feet and ran for the stairs without looking back.

The stampede ended and Ashley sat alone with the growling noise from the fire. More shouts, distant now, rumbled from the stairwell. Glass shattered below, followed by a heavy explosion that shook the building. Fire leapt from a grate to her right and the line of dingy bulbs on the ceiling flickered and went out.

Ashley shoved up from the floor. Beneath her coat she wore only a t-shirt and shorts, her sleeping clothes. For the first time in weeks, she wasn't cold. At the stairway, she pushed against the heavy door. It opened, but black smoke rushed into her face and she closed it fast.

"Oh, God." She stood, momentarily dumbfounded. No way out. She ran back toward her room. Shoes, get shoes and try the fire escape. At the end of the hall, the black bars of the fire escape glimmered beyond the window. Should have gone there first, should have-

"Maaaamaaa."

The wail stopped her and she glanced into an open apartment. A little boy, black curly hair over soft brown skin, stood in the doorway, rubbing his eyes. Someone left behind their kid? It didn't seem real, until the boy let loose a wail that rivaled the sirens below.

She bent and scooped him in her arms. He was heavy. "Hush, I'll take you to your mama."

"Maaa." He struggled, shoving at her with tiny fists and arching his back. "I wan' Mama."

"Don't hit me," Ashley begged. "Your mom's right outside, I'll take you there, okay?"

He calmed then, nodded, and he grabbed a fistful of the hair streaming from beneath the knit cap on her head. She thudded down the hall, placing the bulk of his weight on her hip. Behind her, she felt heat and turned. Flames erupted from the apartment nearest the stairwell. No time for shoes.

"I'm gonna set you down for a second, okay? I have to open the window."

He stuck his thumb in his mouth and stared. About three-years-old, she figured, but he looked like he understood. The window didn't want to budge. Remembering her door, she ran trembling fingers along the top sill. Hurry, hurry, open the lock.

Not locked, but painted shut. "Damn it!"

She spun around, searching the empty hall. Nothing. No fire-extinguishers, nothing to break the glass. Not a stick of furniture. She turned her eyes heavenward, intent on begging God to help, and her eyes fell on the browned window shade.

"Thank you, God!" She jumped and managed to grab hold of one corner. With a yank, she freed it, and held it like a spear. "Turn you're head, baby. Don't look. I have to break the window."

He just whimpered and continued to stare at her with wide-almond shaped eyes. There wasn't time to shelter him. Heat pounded down the hall toward them and in the glass of the window ghostly fire danced beyond her own, pale and frightened face. She shattered the image with the shade.

The glass fell into splinters around her bare feet. No time to worry about that now. Working fast, she cleared the window frame enough to climb through without severing a limb. "Come here, honey."

She gathered the boy into her arms and gingerly stepped over the shards of dirty window pane in her path. His hands fisted tightly into her coat. Wind whipped into her face, icy, but refreshingly clear of the foggy smoke. Below, people filled the sidewalk across the street. Lights from the fire trucks and other emergency vehicles around the corner cast odd shadows over the building.

"Here we go, kid." She put one leg through and slipped on a piece of glass. Pain curled into her toes and she hissed. This wasn't going to work. On the landing outside, she pulled the shard from the soft padding beneath her big toe and dropped it. The metal grate was like a block of ice.

"You ever get a piggy back ride before?" She asked, forcing a smile to her face. He nodded and she rubbed his back, wishing she had something to warm to put him in. His thin pajamas couldn't block the wind. "I'm gonna give you a piggy back ride down the stairs, ok? You hold on real tight."

He nodded again and when she transferred him to her back, his arms went around her throat. What a grip! "Not that tight," she strangled out and helped loosened his hold.

With both hands free, she held the rails and started down. Cries echoed up from the street and she spared a quick glance. People pointed at her, calling over shoulders to others who jogged over to watch. She'd been spotted. Help would surely be on the way now. Her hands curled around the frozen metal. The cold seeped up her arm and into her bones.

Smoke poured from a broken window one floor down, but the one beside it, glowed an ominous orange, directly in the path of the fire escape. The boy whimpered and she adjusted his weight higher on her back. If she didn't hurry, the fire would turn the icy metal into molten steel.

"It's gonna be ok," she whispered to him, and then to herself, "It's gonna be okay."

Frosty patches on the fire escape made the going difficult, but she increased her pace. As she neared the orange-lit window, the shouts on the street intensified. Her foot slipped once and a collective gasp escaped the onlookers. She gripped the rail tighter, keeping her eyes on the steps.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose as she stepped past the glowing window. Her instinct screamed she should run, risk sliding on the ice and hurtling them both painfully to the ground. Before she could act, the window exploded. She spun around to shield the boy with her body.

Hands over her face, eyes closed, glass flew over her and the surge of flames slapped her like a hot hand. The boy slipped and she pulled on his thin forearms. More pain erupted in her side, hot and fierce, but she wouldn't, couldn't think about that now.

She hurried down to the second floor, ignoring the pain. The fire escape stopped abruptly half way there. No ladder, no more steps. She was trapped.

"No!" She cried, and felt the boy stiffen. Control, she had to get control of herself. Now. Her body prickled and her stomach flip-flopped. The pain was so intense. Eyes closed once more, she concentrated on breathing. The roar of the fire filled her ears and it occurred to her that she was dangerously close to passing out.

Ashley opened her eyes to a concerned face, blessedly peering at her from beneath the rim of a fireman's hat. Her elbows locked, bracing her body on the last rail, didn't want to move, as if they'd been frozen. Cold shivered through her, followed by a wave of heat.

"It's all right Miss, pass the boy over." He held his arms out, but the boy tightened his hold on her.

"He'll take you to your mama." Ashley fought the haze in her head and stroked his arm. The fireman balanced effortlessly on a ladder rising from the back of one red fire truck. She wondered how it had appeared there, and when. She'd had her eyes closed longer than she thought. The wind gusted and she felt something cold and wet on her thigh. Don't look, don't look.

The boy allowed her to pass him over and the fireman grasped him in one arm. "Grab the ladder, Miss. I'll be right below you."

Ashley nodded and backed onto the ladder. He hovered behind her, his heavy coat brushed the back of her calves as she tried not to think of the wetness on her skin. At the bottom of the ladder, the fireman left with the boy and another helped her to the ground. She held her coat closed, determined to hide her injuries. A hospital would be too risky.

A yellow-jacketed fireman gave her a spare set of firemen's boots and she slid her feet gratefully into the oversized, heavy pair.

"The ambulance is waiting to check you over. Come with me." Another soot-streaked fireman tugged on her elbow.

"I'm fine," Ashley croaked, surprised by her raw throat.

"Please," the fireman said, "you need to be checked over. You did a brave thing, but now you need to take care of yourself."

Shouts from the front of the building drew his attention and Ashley spoke, "Go, they need you there. I'll get to the ambulance on my own."

He turned back and cast a glance over her shoulder. She followed his gaze. Two emergency techs made for her with boxes in hand.

"They'll take care of you." He squeezed her arm gently and took off for the front of the building.

Bright lights blazed into her eyes, blinding her. The black-hole of a video camera's eye wavered before her. She threw a hand up and twisted away.

"Are you all right, Miss? Do you know how the fire broke out?" A blonde woman shoved a foam-covered microphone into her face. "Can you tell me if anyone else is trapped inside?"

Reporters. Jesus, she was in it now. A quick sweep of the area and she found at least three local news station vans. Damn! She slapped the microphone aside and tugged the cap lower on her forehead.

"Back away." One of the Emergency Techs shouted as he wrapped a blanket around Ashley's shoulders. "Get across the street, you're too close."

She thanked the EMT with relief, her voice cracking on the words for more than one reason. He nodded and tugged her to the ambulance. Though her side ached fiercely, she managed to keep up while clutching the coat closed. She thought fast, searching for an excuse to stay away from the hospital. The reporters would likely plaster her face all over the news given the chance to corner her there and he might see.

An EMT shoved an oxygen mask on her face as she sat on the metal bumper. The sweet, almost humid odor of canned oxygen filled her mouth and nose. He went for her coat and she slid out of his reach. "I'm fine. Really."

"I need to take your blood pressure. Can I help you inside?" He jerked his chin to the back of the ambulance.

"I'm ok." Muffled by the mask, she took it off, holding back a cough, though her throat burned badly. She swallowed, the pain reminding her of the boy's death grip on her neck. "Is the kid okay?"

"They probably took him to St. Mary's," the EMT replied.

"I'll go there." Ashley handed him the mask. "I can walk, it's not far."

The west wall of the fourth floor crumbled inward with a thundering rumble she felt through her feet. The entire structured swayed. "Look, I'm refusing treatment, all right? I'm on my way to the hospital now. If something happens, I'll be all right. Get back there and help someone who really needs it."

"Are you sure?" His brow furrowed with concern, his eyes flickering amber from the fire.

"Yes." Ashley stepped backward, waiting for him to try to stop her. He turned, grabbed his kit from the back, and rushed into the rising crisis.

She spun around and stumbled down the street without looking back. With each step, the borrowed boots became more like lead then insulated rubber. Snow crunched beneath her feet and she slipped twice, but managed not to fall.

Away from the building, the late January air crept beneath her coat and hat, grasping her flesh with icy fingers. Plumes of hot air billowed from her with every exhale. She could no longer feel her legs and was mildly surprised they continued to lift and fall. Wetness slithered a trail down her leg, first turning icy, then squishing inside her left boot.

Make it to the hospital. Just that far. As much as she wanted to avoid recognition, her injuries needed care. If she could get there without being noticed and steal bandages for her wound, she might even find out what happened to the kid without anyone knowing.

Then she'd figure out where to hide next.

© Jennifer Turner, 2005