Nimble and Quick
by Gavin Azevedo

I can’t lift a finger. I’m being suffocated. I want to move, I have the will to move, I have every reason to move, but I cannot move. I cannot lift myself; not even a finger. I’m being suffocated. I have the courage, the speed, the strength to remove myself from this situation; and yet I cannot. Something weighs me down and I cannot see it, cannot shift it, cannot move it. I cannot move myself. I am suffocating. I cannot lift a finger. Not even a toe.

A pulsing, piercing tone penetrates my panicked mind and shocks me out of whatever horrible visions plagued my dreams. I’m shaking, pouring with sweat, but I know this tone, and I know its urgency. With great determination I pull myself up off the tough spring mattress where I’d found my oh-so unsettling slumber and shake off the inkling remains of a bad dream like a dog would shake off cold water. I dress quickly and mechanically- jacket, pants, boots, gloves, helmet. Once my outfit is secured and double checked I proceed to climb nimbly down the smooth metal pole that connects me to the floor below. Awaiting my arrival, and all looking similarly disheveled, are my comrades-in-arms. In a flash of yellow and black we’re off and away, speeding through city blocks and open intersections at an unrelenting pace, our presence being boldly declared by a deafening siren that multiplies and redirects off of the endless rows of imposing glass buildings that pass by in a blur.

I smell smoke; it is sickeningly familiar. A crowd has collected around the building that is our destination. A man in blue informs our chief that there are a few people still assumed to be inside of this building and that the only entrance points have been blocked off by flames. The stability of the upper levels of the building itself is questionable. I stop listening; I already know what must be done, and I know whose hands the task is going to fall into. I am the only member of this team who possesses the uncanny ability to dodge these flames, and I wouldn’t expect them to risk their lives even if they did. I have the will, and this seems to be the sort of thing I was born for. Without hesitation I drop my face-shield and begin at a brisk pace towards the building’s entrance. My breathing is slow and even. I am concentrated, focused. I break stride only briefly to grip the shoulder of one of the comrades who is particularly close to me. I can see in his eyes that he is apprehensive, though he tries not to show it. It always shows in the eyes. By the look of the inferno ravaging the building in front of us, my eyes should probably be showing the same thing. Before I break away he leans close to me and speaks a few brief words. I am walking again, and the entrance to the building is fast approaching. I can feel the heat of the fire raging within bouncing off of my protective clothing, and as I duck my head through the partially collapsed building entrance I can still hear my comrade’s soft plea as it floats through my head, “Be quick, Jack.”

I break into a run and deftly leap through the flames that engulf the main hallway. Fire cracks and sizzles menacingly all around me, overwhelming my senses. I cough and readjust my face shield so I am able to see throughout the room. The scene isn’t pretty, with most of the interior of the building already in ruins and that which still stands looking as if it too is about to give in; but, as it always seems to do in these situations, instinct kicks in. My mind slips into a sort of euphoria, and suddenly I know exactly where to step, when to duck, where to dodge, jump, shimmy, and slide. Systematically I make my way through the blazing maze, checking through rooms that haven’t yet collapsed and at the same time staying alert and nimble enough to dodge falling pieces of singed concrete and metal. Most of the rooms I see appear to be deserted or too far gone to sustain any life.

Finally, after what seems like hours of leaping through flames and dodging various other hazards, I kick open the door to a burning office where a large man appears to have passed out, succumbing to the build-up of smoke in the room. He has serious burns on his face and arms, but appears to still be breathing. Despite the fact that the man is probably ten to fifteen pounds heavier than myself, I manage to lift him up (similar to the way a mother would hold a child) and I begin to make our way back to the entrance.

The building shudders as I move and I have no question in my mind that time has already been forgiving enough, and that this structure has no intention of standing for much longer. It is with sheer willpower that I manage to bring us back to the main hallway of the building, and when we arrive I am forced to stop for a second to catch my breath. Ahead of us is the blazing fire that I originally took at a running pace, and beyond that is safety. I been in similar situations before, and I am confident. One last leap. Just a few well timed steps and a jump. Be quick, Jack. Be quick, and be nimble. Just this one last jump.

I make my way towards the blaze with increasing speed. The large man in my arms is almost too much for me to sustain, but I am confident. My footfalls blend together as I pick up speed, and I leap.

Mid way through my jump the toe end of my boot catches on a stray wooden beam jutting out of the fire. I tip off balance and drop the man in my arms, who tumbles towards the entrance, past the harsh grip of the fire. I hit the ground hard and lose my wind. I want to get up because I can feel my feet being engulfed in searing heat, but I cannot move. Something shifted and fell on top of me when my foot struck that beam, and now I cannot move. I cannot see what weighs me down, but I want to lift it, I want to move it. But I cannot move. Smoke is filling my lungs and I am suffocating. I want to move; I’ve had the courage, the speed, the strength to move in situations before this, but now I cannot move. I cannot lift anything. I have the will, I have every reason to move; but I cannot move. I am suffocating. I cannot lift a finger. Not even a toe.

“Jack be nimble,

Jack be quick,

Jack jump over the candlestick.

Jack jumped high,

Jack jumped low,

Jack jumped over and burned his toe.”