“Damn,” he said. “Well, a guy has to try. He’s a lucky man, whoever he is. Or girl.”
“He is,” I said. “I’m good here. I just have to catch my breath.”
“Don’t go anywhere,” he told me, looking around. “Paramedics will be here any minute and they’ll want to check you out to make sure you aren’t suffering from smoke inhalation. Side effects can come on quick and be dangerous. So stay put, you hear?”
I nodded. I had no intention of going anywhere. My head was throbbing. I was covered in sweat and soot. My skin felt like I’d been lying out in ninety-degree heat for three days straight with no sunscreen. My eyes were burning and dry, and I’d never been so thirsty in all my life.
As I waited for the paramedics, I watched the driver of the sedan stir awake. His young son, the passenger, clung to his father’s shirt and called to him. The father sat up, wrapped his arms around his son, and sobbed.
My chest ached, and it wasn’t from the smoke.
We were okay. All of us.