Instead of putting out the chemical fire, the water spread the burning accelerant across the floorboards.

A line of fire now blocked the path to the main entrance.

The smoke was getting thicker, stinging my eyes and making them water.

I coughed violently, the acrid taste of burning plastic and kerosene filling my throat.

I dragged myself toward the main door, keeping low to the ground to find oxygen.

The floor was slick with water and oily chemical residue.

I reached the heavy glass door and pulled myself up to my feet, gasping for air.

I pushed against the metal crash bar with all my strength.

Nothing happened.

I pushed again, throwing my entire weight against the metal bar.

The door remained firmly shut.

The building’s safety system had locked the laboratory doors to contain the fire.

I panicked, banging my fist against the thick, reinforced glass.

“Is anyone out there?” I screamed, but my voice was weak and raspy.

Through the glass, the dark hallway outside was empty and silent.

The main alarm system finally triggered, a high-pitched siren wailing from the ceiling.