Watch You Burn

by Amanda Searcy

  “Ben is still there.”

  A customer comes in and stands in line behind me. I know Jackie wants to hear more, but she has to do her job.

  I point to an open table. “I’m going to wait until he comes home.”

  * * *

  —

  After a couple of hours, Ben still hasn’t shown up. I text him. And call. And text again.

  His phone could be inside the clinic. Or he could be dodging my texts, trying to process this on his own.

  He’s already lost Kara. If he loses the clinic, too, I don’t know how he’ll keep it together. How he’ll stay sober.

  I have to help him, let him know that he’s not alone.

  I text the only other person I can think of.

  * * *

  —

  When Cam pulls up, there’s deep sadness in his eyes. I gave him a brief rundown in my text. The clinic was raided. Ben’s not answering his phone.

  We drive past the clinic. Everyone has gone. The lights are off.

  Ben is nowhere.

  “I know where we can look,” Cam says.

  We drive up and down streets. Some I’ve seen before, and others are in parts of town I’ve never been. Cam slows down and creeps past every alley we pass, looking. I don’t think this is the first time he’s done this.

  Every time we see a figure in a doorway or huddled in a shadow, Cam’s face fills with hope. Then it’s dashed when the figure turns around and isn’t Ben.

  I’m hurting, but Cam is hurting worse. He seems so lost, so eager to do right by Ben. I reach out and put my hand on his shoulder.

  “There’s one more place,” he says. “But you have to stay in the truck. For real. I’m serious.”

  “Okay.”

  We drive down a street that runs parallel to the cottonwood’s access road. We pull off and go on four-wheel drive through the brush. There might have been a road here at one time, but now it’s completely overgrown. I hold on to the doorframe as we thump up and down, and branches beat up the sides of the truck. Then the trees clear, and we stop in front of an abandoned warehouse. It’s a shell with broken windows. One side is collapsed, leaving a pile of exposed wood. It looks older than the Los Ranchitos. Through the trees, I see the far end of the colony pressing up against it.

  “Lock the doors,” Cam says as he gets out. He puffs himself up to look as big and mean as possible. As much as I want to follow him, that makes me change my mind. I’ve seen Cam look a lot of things, but never afraid like this.

  What I thought was a quiet scene begins to move. There are people in the trees and in the warehouse. They look worse off than the patients in the clinic, worse than anyone I’ve seen trudging back and forth from the colony.

  This place is for the hopeless. It’s a place you go to die.

  Cam stomps back to the truck. He gets in and starts the ignition before he clicks his seat belt. “He’s not here.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief. We still don’t know where Ben is, but the thought of him in that place breaks my heart.

  “Did he used to come here before?”

  Cam’s eyes slide over to me and then flit back to the road. I take that as a yes.

  * * *

  —

  When Cam drops me off at the Los Ranchitos, he doesn’t get out. His shoulders are slumped, his jaw set. It’s almost dark, but he’s going to keep looking.

  “Let me know if you hear anything,” I say as he pulls away.

  Before I can get my key, Ro pulls the curtain aside, and the door opens.

  I push my way inside and collapse on the bed. The last few hours weigh on me like a bulldozer sitting on my chest. I have to fight for breath.

  Ro bounces onto the bed next to me. “I saw the early news.” There’s no concern in her voice. I sit up. She has an enormous smile on her face.

  “Why are you happy?”

  “You said that doctor was selling pills in the colony. He got what he deserved. Isn’t that a good thing?”

  Oh my God. Did I do this? I passed on Suds’s story about Doc selling pills. Passed it on to Ro.

  “Ro?” She doesn’t look at me. I stand up and move around to look her in the eye. “Ro? Did you call the cops? Did you turn Doc in?”

  “No!”

  “Ro?”

  She throws her hands up. “I didn’t, I swear.” But she wears a hint of a smile.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  She looks like I’ve slapped her. Her face changes. It grows dark. Her eyes narrow. I take a step back. “You’re one to talk,” she says. She lets it hang in the air. I don’t know what she means, but my breathing speeds up. My heart pounds.

  She saunters over to the dresser like someone who’s in complete control. She opens the bottom drawer. I know what’s about to happen, but I’m powerless to stop it.

  She pulls out my hat, gingerly holding it between two fingers. She tosses it onto the bed.

  Shit. I meant to get rid of it, but I got distracted. I thought I would have more time.

  “Didn’t it used to have two eyes?” Her tone is so cold that I wrap my arms around myself for protection.

  I can’t breathe. I suck in little gasps of air. But I have to fight. Fight for my life.

  My lungs open, and I take one big, fortifying breath. “You tell me, Ro.”

  She flinches. “What?”

  “You’re always here, Ro. Every day when I come home from school, you’re here. You sleep here. How easy would it have been for to you to take my hat like you take everything else?”

  “We’re best friends. I wouldn’t do that to you.” There’s hurt on her face.

  “You mooch my food. You act like this is your house. You spend my money on clothes to play dress-up with. That’s not friendship. We’re not friends.”

  Ro looks like I’ve slapped her. My own head snaps back in disbelief. I just said something that can’t be unsaid. I didn’t mean it. I’m just angry. Angry at her for finding the hat. Angry at myself for what I might have done to Doc and Ben.

  Ro rallies. Her eyes sparkle, and her face twists into a smug smile. My lungs close up again. I’ve just released a monster.

  “Where’d you go the night of the club? You were so sad. ‘Oh, woe is me.’ ” She rubs her eyes mockingly. “ ‘Kara is sleeping with the boy I like.’ But then Kara died, and you got the boy.”

  My head beats in time with my heart. Black spots are filling my vision. I sit down before I pass out. “I didn’t kill Kara.”

  “All I’m saying is that it worked out pretty well for you, huh?”

  I point to the door. “Get out.”

  She plants her feet and crosses her arms. I jump up and use my fury to fly through the space between us. “GET. OUT.”

  She slowly drops her arms to the side and walks to the door. She opens it, but then turns around and smirks. “Don’t forget about your date.”

  The door slams.

  I run into the bathroom and kneel on the person-sized towel in front of the toilet. There’s nothing in my stomach to throw up. I lean back against the tub. This has been the second-worst day of my life.

  I crawl back into the bedroom and grope around for my phone. I have to call and cancel with Allen. I swipe my phone on. It’s 6:50. Too late. He’s already on his way—if he isn’t already in the parking lot.

  I’ll have to pull myself together. There’s a reason I’m going out with Allen. I can’t let him get suspicious about anything.

  Allen’s name is at the top of my list of dangerous people. People who could send me to jail for a long, long time.

  Now Ro’s name is right under his.

  I’ve never seen that look in her eyes before. Ro has become a wild card. If she called the cops on Doc, I don’t know what she could do next.

  B
ut she was right about two things: the hat does prove I’m guilty of starting the fires, and, when the truth is twisted, it seems like I did have a motive to kill Kara.

  But right now, I have to convince Allen that nothing would make me happier than being on a date with him.

  I put on the first dress in the wardrobe and slap on some foundation and blush.

  Allen knocks on the door. “Just a minute,” I call. One last thing. I go into the bathroom and lock the window.

  * * *

  —

  A white rose sits on the table in front of me. Allen presented it to me when I got into his car. I can’t keep my eyes off it. Is it a message? Is this our final showdown? Does he think he’s in some sort of superhero movie? That I’m the archvillain he’s about to take out?

  I’ve had so much adrenaline shot through my system today that I’m surprised my heart hasn’t stopped beating. My whole body feels heavy. But I have to keep my guard up. I have to make it through this night.

  “Did you grow up in Las Piedras?” I ask, to make neutral conversation.

  “No. Santa Fe.”

  I give him a half smile. Kara was from Santa Fe. Does he know about her mom and the baby?

  I’ve been holding the same tortilla chip for ten minutes. Allen scoops up a big dollop of salsa onto his and shoves the whole thing into his mouth. He’s been talking and eating, while I’ve tried to smile and laugh in the appropriate spots. I don’t let him see me looking for the emergency exits.

  He suddenly leans forward and glances around the restaurant. “There have been some developments in your friend’s murder,” he whispers.

  My heart takes off again. More adrenaline.

  “Oh?” I break off a piece of my chip and try to lift it to my mouth, but it doesn’t make it.

  “They’re looking into whether the fires and your friend’s murder are related.”

  I start. “What?”

  “Shhh…”

  He glances around again. “You can’t tell anyone. I overheard the detectives talking about it. They didn’t know I was in the records room.”

  “Did they say why?” I whisper, and attempt to sound like a concerned friend and not like my heart is about to leap out of my throat.

  “They got a tip. Usually those things are bogus, but they’re taking this one seriously.”

  Ro.

  I lean back and dip what remains of my chip in the salsa. “So what was the tip?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. But they’ve got us doing extra patrols out away from the colony. That’s where they think the arsonist is.”

  “He’s not in the colony?” The chip finally makes it to my mouth. I’m just a concerned—innocent—citizen.

  Allen shrugs again. “I think he is. That’s why I’ve been going out there at night.”

  I look away, but I breathe deeply. I might live to see another day.

  “Oh, and the detectives mentioned that the feds gave them something too.”

  “Really? What?” My shaking hand dips another chip. Salsa splashes onto the table. Allen’s eyes glance at it.

  The waitress brings our food. A smothered carne adovada burrito for him. A chile relleno for me.

  Allen picks up his fork and stabs the burrito. “All they said was that the feds were ‘helping to connect the dots.’ ”

  I look down like I’m admiring my food. But I can’t let him see my face.

  My bag and the photo inside it are in the hands of the feds.

  * * *

  —

  I have two-thirds of a chile relleno in a Styrofoam takeout box. I told Allen it was too spicy. It wasn’t, but after what he told me, I couldn’t eat. He made me take it home anyway.

  I tried to keep acting pleasant. Keep acting like there was no place on earth I would rather be than with him.

  It seems to have worked. He’s walked me to the door. I know the look on his face. He’s going to kiss me now.

  I see movement out of the corner of my eye in the still-blacked-out section of the motel. I focus on Allen. I’m even more confused than when this “date” started. Is he playing me? Or is he just cocky and overconfident, with some sort of hero complex?

  I can’t ruin this now. If he really doesn’t know about me, I need him to keep feeding me details about the investigations.

  His lips close the space between us.

  But I can’t. I can’t do it.

  I turn my head and receive a peck on the cheek. Confusion momentarily passes over his face, but then he puts his arms around me for a friendly hug. When he breaks away, he looks satisfied by the exchange.

  He points over his shoulder toward the trees. “I’m going to go on another patrol.”

  I smile, hoping he can’t sense my relief. I’ve done it. This night is over.

  As he backs out of the parking space, I wave like I can’t wait to see him again.

  When he’s through the gate, I turn to the blacked-out section.

  To Ben running away into the shadows.

  My scar sears across my arm.

  Maybe Allen knows about me. Maybe he doesn’t. But it’s his arsonist-hunting, wannabe-cop fault that Ben ran away. That Ben is hurting even more.

  Allen’s getting a taste of his own medicine tonight. Right now he’s learning what it feels like to have to run for your life.

  The fire is coming to eat him.

  I’m not trying to hurt anyone, not really. I know the firefighters will evacuate the colony. I just need Allen to know that I’m done playing games.

  He might be dangerous. But so am I.

  * * *

  —

  The wind is so strong, it’s hard to stand upright. We’re all assembled. Dad, Monica, Cam, and Mr. Vargas. Flames spin like tornadoes. Trees explode. Every fire truck in Las Piedras and three surrounding communities line the access road.

  People from the colony trudge up the street, escorted out of danger by the flashing lights of a police car.

  I have an old backpack of Dad’s with my toothbrush and a change of clothes slung over my shoulder. We’re waiting to see if we have to leave.

  I feel buzzed again, watching the flames. It’s been a while since I felt anything other than a stomach-turning relief at watching them gobble up the trees. This time I feel empowered. This time I’m the hunter.

  I was so very careful. No hat. No dark clothes. Just slow, silent movements and the uniform of an innocent jogger out for a late run.

  Dad examines me and narrows his eyes. My hands are at my sides. This has been the longest day of my life. Exhaustion is starting to overtake me.

  I pull out my phone for the thousandth time. No message from Ben. Everything good I felt when I pressed the lighter against the pile of kindling takes leave of me and is replaced by a horrible gnawing sensation in my abdomen.

  “Have you heard from Ben?” I ask Cam, who also stares blankly at the inferno before us.

  “No.” His expression doesn’t change. He still thinks Ben is just missing. He doesn’t know that Ben saw me with Allen tonight.

  Mr. Vargas leaps forward to meet the fire chief as he saunters toward us. “Looks like the wind is pushing it back,” the chief says. “If it jumps the river, we’ll have a mess, but they’re no structures over there.”

  “So we’re okay?” Mr. Vargas asks.

  The chief nods. “For tonight? Yes. If this son of a bitch keeps at it?” He shrugs.

  Dad puts a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go back to bed.”

  In my room, I open the drawer containing my magic sleeping pills. I could take one—I could take two and guarantee that the night and most of tomorrow slip away. That Allen and Ben slide right out of my mind.

  I close the drawer. I don’t deserve that. After what I did to Ben, I deserve to see, hear, and feel eve
rything the night can throw at me.

  I doze off. When I swallow, my throat, raw from the smoke, jerks me awake again. I look at the clock. It’s two a.m.

  There’s a sound in the bathroom. A tapping on the window. I ignore it. I’m not letting her in. Not after she called the cops. Not after she accused me of killing Kara.

  She can go sleep in a doorway somewhere, for all I care.

  A few minutes later, the tapping is on my door. I roll over and pull the duvet over my head.

  “Go away!” I snarl.

  The tapping starts again.

  I turn on the lamp and rip off the duvet. I open the door. “Go a—” Tears are streaming down Ro’s face. Her clothes are covered in dirt and ash. My heart stops dead in my chest. She’s holding her arm in front of her.

  A fierce, angry burn slices across her wrist.

  “He’s coming for me,” she whispers.

  I grab her by the shoulder and pull her into the room. I shut the door, lock the dead bolt, and slide the chain into place.

  I press my back into it, as if I can hold all the evils of the world out with my body.

  Ro sits on the bed and whimpers.

  “What happened?”

  “I was in the bosque. The fire was coming so fast. I was trying to run away.” She takes a deep breath. “A man came out of nowhere. He grabbed me, but I kicked until he let go. Then I ran. He was pushing me into the fire. I could feel it starting to burn.”

  My knees won’t hold me anymore. I slide down to the floor.

  “It was so hot I couldn’t breathe. The flames were everywhere. I tripped. My arm”—she holds it out—“hit a burning tree.”

  My scar sends pain through my body in sympathy. I jump up and start riffling through drawers. I don’t know what I’m looking for, but I have to find something. Something to fix this. I hurt someone. I hurt my friend.

  “I’m so sorry I said those things to you.” Ro starts to cry again, but quickly rubs her eyes. “I couldn’t see his face, but he’s the guy. The guy who killed Kara and started the fires. I know it.” Her voice sinks down to a whisper. “He almost got me.”