Insomnia

Chapter 32: Blind Skull

By the time we got out, sirens were sounding in the distance. We collapsed onto the snow, both of us gagging and coughing out the smoke that permeated our bodies. As soon as the spasms stopped, I checked on Finn. He was still breathing, but it made a weird rasping sound. There was so much blood. Careful to avoid my broken wrist, I took off my sweatshirt and secured it against his wound. 

I couldn't take anymore. I buried my face in the snow, letting the cold seep in through my blistered skin. After everything, was it not enough? Would Finn die anyway? 

There was a soft tug at my shoulder and I sat up. Mia wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me close. "Thank you," she whispered, hot tears burning on my cheek. "I'm so sorry I thought it was you." 

I didn't know how to respond. There was really only one answer. 

"Me too." 

We held each other as the fire spread deeper into the school. Ashes mingled with the snow and fell on us as we coughed and cried until the paramedics arrived and pulled us apart. One of them inspected my arm, but I jerked it away. 

"I'm fine. Help him!" I pointed toward Finn, even though two paramedics were already hurrying him toward one of the ambulances on a stretcher. I only caught pieces of words— "loss of blood," "uneven breathing," and "John Doe." The ambulance sped away immediately, its siren blaring through the frosty air. 

I couldn't feel anything anymore. I could barely think. Dread coated my veins as I wondered if he would make it. I didn't think I could take the answer right now. Only one thing seemed important enough for me to try to speak. 

I turned to the paramedic next to me. "His name is Finn Patrick," I rasped. My throat felt like I'd swallowed a dozen hot coals. "He's my best friend." 

She nodded. "I'll let them know." 

It was getting dark. The sun was probably setting even though it hadn't really made an appearance all day. Half the school was ablaze but I kept my back to it. Every time I faced it, I could feel the heat and smoke on my skin again. People parked along the street, milling about in groups and speaking in hushed tones. 

"Were you the only ones in the school?" a firefighter asked Mia. She stared at him, and then I heard a rough sob escape her lips. 

"There was one other guy, in the shop room," I gasped, against the pain in my throat. "He started the fire." 

Two firemen headed back into the school. The paramedic nodded and pushed me back onto a stretcher. She jabbed an IV in my arm and set an oxygen mask over my face. She kept talking to me, but I couldn't answer questions anymore. I closed my eyes and tried to picture Addie's dream, tried to feel the cool mist instead of the hot, choking smoke. I tried to picture her smiling instead of crying. Then I slipped down into my familiar void. 

* * *

Every piece of me itched and ached simultaneously. I wanted to roll over to ease the irritation, but my left arm was bound tight and held in place. I blinked and saw I was back in the hospital. As my eyes focused, they came to rest on Mia. She wore a hospital robe and was gripping my free hand. 

"M—ah?" My vocal cords were so painful they felt like flames licking my throat. 

She turned to face me. It was the first time in months that I'd seen her eyes without fear in them. 

"No, don't talk. Here, have some ice to suck on. It helped me a lot." Her voice was hoarse too, but nothing like mine. She had a small oxygen tank beside her and a tube beneath her nose. A bandage covered the gash on her forehead.