Kidnapped

Chapter 18

I officially hate this chapter...

Chapter 18:

"What's that smell?" Dave asked, stopping in front of the door with his hand near the doorknob. He looked around the room for a minute.

"I don't know." I replied. I was guessing the smell wasn't pine, though.

"It smells like . . . smoke." He said slowly.

"Why would it smell like-" I cut myself off and my eyes grew wide. Dave reached out to grab the door handle, but when he touched it he automatically pulled back in pain.

"It's hot." He looked at me, a strange expression taking over his face. Then he put his palm on the door. As he did, I sat up in the bed and pulled myself to my feet. As I was about to walk over to him, he abruptly turned around and the lack of color in his face told me that this wasn't good.

No, please don't let it be his house, I silently prayed inside my head.

"The window," Was all he said. We both knew what the other was thinking. The house was on fire.

I quickly turned towards the window and walked over to it. When I pulled it open and stuck my head out to look for a way down, I nearly fell out of it.

The tall oak tree in front of Dave's house, the tree we used to climb on when we were bored, the way we got into his house one time when he accidentally locked us out, our only way down, was engulfed in flames.

I stepped backwards, a sudden wave of dizziness rushing over me. We were trapped. We were going to die.

Just like Jake.

It took me a minute to recognize the smell. Not the smoke. It was a fruity scent. One I vaguely recognized. Then I realized what it was just as Dave stumbled over onto the floor.

Poison gas.

I quickly covered my mouth and nose with my sleeve, breathing through the soft fabric, letting it filter the air. The dizziness got worse for a moment, and I thought I was going to die, but then I saw clearly again.

"Dave!" I rushed over to him, keeping my sleeve firmly pressed against my airways. "Dave!" My voice was muffled, so Dave couldn't have heard it even if he was awake. But he wasn't even awake. He laid on the floor, motionless and silent. For a moment I thought he was dead, and I was prepared to die too, but then I found his pulse and relief washed over me. I covered his mouth and nose with a blanket so he wouldn't breathe in the smoke and any more of the poison gas.

I had to get us out of here.

"Dave!" I called his name over and over, desperately willing him to wake up, to open his eyes and get us out. He'd saved me so many times before. But it was my turn to save him.

I was kneeling next to him, still covering my mouth and nose. I could see the smoke now, as it hung over the room like a dark cloud. It came from under the door and through the window, spreading throughout the room into every crack and crevice, engulfing every little thing. Even with my sleeve pressed against my nose, I could still smell it and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. It burned my eyes, causing them to water and make the world around me blur into one color of darkness.

We were trapped. Dave was unconscious. I was getting nauseous. The house could collapse on us at any moment. No one was here to save us. This was the end.

Then a thought hit me, out of nowhere.

The bathroom window.

But we'd have to jump. And Dave was still unconscious.