Rough Touch
by J.C. Towler, Jr © 2008
Rough fingers pressed against Madeline's throat. Every part of her seemed to hurt all at once and her head felt like she'd just sat through a three hour rock concert next to the stage. Her eyes fluttered open then squeezed shut against the heat and pain. She caught a glimpse of a man, big and yellow with something on his face.
"Well you got a pulse lady, that's a start." Deep breathing sounds accompanied the man's muffled voice.
What the hell had happened? One moment she was sitting at her desk, the next moment the building was falling down around her. That was all her short term memory had for her at the moment. Maybe it would elaborate later. She struggled to sit up, but a weight across her legs pinned her to the floor.
"Please help me."
Heat. It was hot and getting hotter. Her hearing returned incrementally and she recognized the sound of things burning. Not here, not this way, she thought to herself.
She narrowed her eyes to the smallest possible degree and tried to look around. The man was standing now. Was he leaving?
"Don't try to move. A desk flipped over and landed on you."
"What happened?" Madeline asked.
"Bomb or something in the building."
A bomb? Here? In this building? Impossible.
Madeline pulled up her uniform sleeve and used the unsoiled blouse underneath to wipe her face. Her eyes still stung, but now she could see a little better. She almost wished she'd kept her eyes shut. Fire licked the walls all around the office. Smoke roiled across the ceiling. Something heavy cracked and fell, shaking the floor. She had an inkling this was what hell looked like on a bad day.
She couldn't see the man anymore.
"Hey! Hey, don't leave me," she cried out. But nobody answered. She gritted her teeth and managed to prop herself up on her elbows. Bad idea. Down on the ground she was below the worst of the smoke, but even a few inches of elevation made a difference and she convulsed in a coughing fit.
The desk trapping her legs shifted and slowly moved upward. The man had his shoulder into it and was forcing it off her. With a final heave he shoved it to a side. He circled back around and knelt beside her. She could see the concern on his face even through the oxygen mask.
"No time for a backboard. Sorry, but this is probably going to hurt."
She grit her teeth as he scooped his arms under her. The pain wasn't so bad. Then he lifted. Madeline screamed once, then fainted.
###
She woke to the sterile scent peculiar to hospitals and comforting sounds of beeping machines. Her eyes fluttered open. No pain anymore, just numbness and fatigue. Someone moved next to the bed and she felt rough fingers against her throat.
"Still got that pulse, lady."
My hero, she thought as she drifted off to sleep.