Upon entering the clinic door, she pulled her flashlight from her coat pocket and beamed it around the front office. Smoke slithered from the crevices in the ceiling and filled the room.
She needed help. When she felt for the cell phone normally clipped to her jeans, it wasn’t there. She remembered leaving it on the nightstand by her bed.
No good to her now.
The fire had not yet reached the downstairs, but Mattie could almost feel her hair crinkle from the intense heat overhead. She covered her nose and mouth and ran to the back where the animals were caged. Even before she opened the door, she heard the insistent yelps of a puppy, her parrot’s squall, the spine-tingling yowls of two frantic cats.
With trembling fingers, Mattie unlatched the first gate she came to of a mother cat and her kittens.
“Scoot, kitties. Out with you.” She captured the fluffy fur balls one by one, and they brushed past her legs to follow their mama. Next, she aimed the flashlight on the golden retriever she’d operated on earlier. The dog opened its bleary eyes. Still groggy, the patient couldn’t walk on its own.
Mattie flung the cage open and struggled to lift the dog. With shaky legs, she carried the retriever out the rear door to a place of safety under a big cottonwood tree. Doubling over to catch her breath, Mattie watched as the office curtains burst into flames. Then came the chinking pop of breaking glass.
Twice more she returned to the clinic to rescue her patients, and on her third trip, smoke billowed into the small back room. As she headed for the animals’ cages, a monstrous sound exploded in her ears as the ceiling crashed down in front of her. Crackling flames burst through the hole above with a devilish hiss. She ducked out of the way of the blazing embers, which scorched her face with their intense heat. Her hands trembled with fear.
Think, Mattie, think.
Smoke stung her eyes and nostrils. Her mind felt muddled by the haze.
Hard to breathe.
As she gasped, her lungs instantly rejected the foul, tainted stench of burning plastic and synthetic materials, causing her to choke and sputter for her next gulp of air.
Her movements seemed to occur in slow motion, making it difficult to assess what needed to be done next. “Oh Lord, please help me,” she called out.
Drop to the floor.
Mattie recalled this childhood instruction from school, so she allowed herself to collapse to the concrete floor. There, her breathing came easier. Using the collar of her coat, she covered her nose and crawled on hands and knees to the cages, her only goal to rescue the patients trapped inside. She reached the pen of the Labrador stray and let her out, then went on to the prairie dog she’d adopted and fumbled to unlatch the gate. Urging it from its confines, she inched onward where two cats paced and howled inside their barred quarters.
Too close to the fire now, Mattie feared she might crumple and incinerate in the heat like a foam plate at a wiener roast.
Blistering, scorching heat.
Her fingers grasped the lock, and the heated metal seared her skin.
She let go at the sudden pain and shook her hand at the stinging sensation.
Too hot.
Sweat dripped from her face as she searched for a glove or rag to use as insulation. She struggled out of her coat sleeves. The more she exerted herself, the harder it was to breathe.
Mattie’s throat constricted, parched now. Her lungs could take no more. A bout of coughs besieged her. Salty tears streamed down her cheeks, and her eyes burned even more.
A bird squawked from above.
Her parrot. She’d never save them all, not even her own precious pets.
Mattie squeezed her eyelids shut in an effort to block out this horrible nightmare. How could this happen to her? What had she done to deserve such bitter loss?
So tired.
If she could rest a few minutes, regain her energy, then she’d rescue the animals. The fire raged on all sides of her now. It snarled and licked at her, making fun of her futile efforts.
Her throat felt as dry as sandpaper. Just thinking about the taste of cool water made her desire it more. She gasped for air and inhaled the putrid smoke around her. Her lungs retaliated, and she lurched forward in another fit of coughing. A nine-week-old puppy pranced and yelped in a cage nearby. It clawed for freedom, shredding the newspaper flooring as though it were dirt. If