Oxygen Runs Out, Love Burns Out

The words had barely left my mouth when my helmet was yanked off with such force that it nearly snapped my neck.

Cassadee Flack—the hero I once looked up to—stood before me, her face twisted in fury. She glared at me, her expression livid.

"Emmett Doherty, have you lost your mind?" Her scream cut through the roar of the fire, crashing into me along with a wave of scalding heat.

"You're going to use the Incident Command Center's emergency override authority over something this trivial? Do you want the entire station laughing at us?"

She raised her hand as if she were about to hurl my helmet—my only means of communication—against a storage rack that was glowing red from the heat.

I wanted to stop her, but the lack of oxygen was making my vision go dark. I could barely stand up straight, and my body swayed before I dropped heavily to my knees.

Thick smoke was everywhere, burrowing its way into my lungs. Every single breath felt like torture.

My consciousness began to fade. As the flames before me blurred into a distorted wash of color, a pair of brand-new firefighting boots stopped in front of me.

It was Colin Halfpenny.

He was wearing a pristine turnout suit, and strapped to his back was the spare oxygen tank Cassadee had just given him.

"Don't be mad at the captain, Emmett," he said, crouching down and pretending to help me up.

"The second I stepped into the fire, my heart started racing, and my legs went weak. I really couldn't hold on much longer."

As he spoke, he casually adjusted his oxygen mask. The valve connecting his mask to the tank was clearly engraved with the words "For Emergency Use Only".

It was a special-issue tank reserved for the leader of the tactical rescue team—our company's absolute last resort for carving out a life-saving path during the most critical emergencies.

Cassadee, deeply concerned, immediately moved behind Colin and carefully checked his gear. When she looked at me, it was as if she were looking at a pile of trash that was just getting in the way.

"Ignore him, Col. A guy like him who grew up wallowing in misery doesn't know the first thing about gratitude."

She turned back to me, looking down on me from above, her eyes dripping with contempt.

"Stop with the act, Emmett. If you're short on oxygen, just find a spot downwind and lie low. Push through it, and it'll pass. Col's health is way more important than yours!"

I didn't have the strength to argue. I could only struggle desperately, trying to reach the emergency first-aid kit hanging from my belt.

However, when I finally got my hands on it, I found that the clasp was undone and the pouch was empty.

I looked up just in time to see the kit in Cassadee's hands.

"Col will take this too, just in case," she said, sounding completely entitled.

"Look at you. You can still yell and shout, which means you've got plenty of energy left. Don't be so selfish. Our company doesn't need troublemakers like you who have no sense of team spirit!"

She'd so casually stripped away every last chance I had to survive and handed it to another man.

The suffocating sensation grew heavier and heavier. Using the last of my strength, I squeezed out a few words from the base of my throat.

"Cassadee… If this keeps up… I'm going to die."