“Don’t breathe in the smoke!” Vincent yelled over the sound of shattering glass and gunshots.
The little of the pink smoke I had inhaled before he covered my nose with a handkerchief weakened my immune system. My eyes were already watering because the smoke got into them, and my veins felt like they were constricting, and stopping blood flow to the rest of my body.
I vigorously nodded against his hand to show that I understood.
All four of my limbs felt almost lifeless, and I couldn’t help but shiver at the thought that if I had inhaled more, I would’ve instantly fallen unconscious.
“Do you have the keys to the panic room?” He asked, lifting me up and over his shoulder. How did he still have enough energy to carry another person? I couldn’t even carry my eyelids properly.
The panic ro
