Chapter 275 Spread Across the Internet
Harmony's collapse brought a fresh wave of concern through the crowd. They had already lost one hero; they couldn't bear to lose another. Calls for medical attention were quickly heeded, and soon, she too was being lifted into the ambulance, her hand tightly clasped in Jennifer's unconscious one.
The onlookers surrounding the spectacle stood motionless, their gaze fixed on the unfolding scene before them. Their minds drifted back, replaying the events that had just transpired.
The events of the day had shaken them and reminded them of the preciousness of life, the power of selflessness. They watched, their faces etched with worry and admiration, as the ambulance pulled away, its siren a mournful wail in the gathering darkness.
And then, a remarkable thing happened. As if moved by a single, unspoken impulse, a convoy of cars, their makes and models as diverse as the people who drove them, fell in behind the ambulance, forming a spontaneous procession towards the hospital.
The hospital, accustomed to the arrival of ambulances, was nonetheless taken aback by the sheer number of people who poured through its doors. Hundreds of them, their clothes damp, their faces etched with mixture of hope and despair, filled the waiting area, their voices a low murmur that spoke of their shared anxiety.
Doctors, alerted to the unusual situation, were briefed on the events that had transpired. They listened, their faces growing increasingly grave as they learned of James' heroic actions and the horrific price he had paid.
They had seen their share of burn victims, but this... This was different. This man, this stranger, had willingly walked into the inferno, not once, but three times, to save the lives of children he didn't even know. The contemplation of the intense suffering he had presumably endured evoked chills down their spines.
A quick examination confirmed their worst fears. James' burns were severe and life-threatening. Realistically, there was little hope. His body was ravaged, his organs failing. He was, in their professional opinion, a dead man walking.
But then, they heard the whispers, the stories of his courage, of his selflessness. They saw the tears in the eyes of the people who crowded the hallway, their faces etched with a desperate hope. And something inside them, some deep-seated belief in the power of miracles, refused to let them give up.
They checked for a pulse, their fingers trembling slightly as they felt the faintest flutter beneath his charred skin. He was alive. Barely, but alive.
A surge of adrenaline shot through them, a mixture of hope and determination. They would fight for this man, for the hero who had stared death in the face and emerged victorious. They would use every ounce of their skill, every bit of technology at their disposal, to snatch him back from the jaws of death.
As James was wheeled into surgery, news of the fire and its aftermath spread like wildfire. Videos, captured on phones and shared across social media, showed the ferocity of the blaze, the desperate scramble for safety, and then, amidst the chaos, the solitary figure of James, charging back into the inferno, not once, but three times.
The footage was more powerful than any news report and more evocative than any written word. It captured the raw terror of the fire, the selfless courage of one man, and the heart-wrenching grief of those who loved him.
People from all walks of life, from all corners of the globe, watched, their hearts breaking as they witnessed James' final act of heroism. His words, spoken with a calm determination that belied the inferno raging around him, echoed in their ears:
"With great power comes great responsibility. There's a desperate, helpless little girl inside waiting for me to rescue her. I can't just stand by and do nothing. If this is my fate, I accept it. At least I fulfilled your wish. If I really die, just pretend I never existed in your world."
Donations were poured in, a testament to the power of human compassion and a collective prayer for the life of a man most had never met.
Michael, his face pale with worry, rushed to the hospital the moment he saw the news, his important business meeting forgotten. Dennis and Kaitlyn, their eyes red-rimmed with tears, arrived soon after, their hearts heavy with dread.
Edwin and his colleagues, with their faces etched with sadness and disbelief, watched the news reports, their hopes dwindling with each passing hour. They knew, better than most, the odds James was facing.
And in a penthouse suite overlooking the city, Asher Perry watched the same news reports; his face contorted in a mask of rage and disbelief.
"Good! That's great!" he'd exclaimed initially, his voice thick with glee. He'd been consumed by thoughts of revenge, his mind filled with images of James suffering. This, he'd thought, was justice.
But as the hours passed, and the news reports focused not on James' demise but on his heroism, a cold dread began to creep into his heart. The internet, usually so quick to judge and condemn, was filled with praise for James, hailing him as a hero, a saint.
He'd scrolled through the comments, his face growing redder with each word of praise, each expression of sympathy. He'd tried to post his own thoughts, to tell the world that James was nothing but a fraud, a thief, but his words were drowned out by a tidal wave of outrage.
He'd ended up smashing his phone, his rage a pale shadow of the fear that now gnawed at his gut. James, even in death, was a threat. His sacrifice had made him a martyr, a symbol of everything Asher despised. And as long as his memory lived on, Asher would never truly be free.
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