Faded Flare

by L. B. Carter

  Her hands flashed up, handcuffs jangling, and she touched a fingertip to the drone, right on its largest sensor like a boop to Marlowe’s nose. Electricity sparked, a blue arc connecting her and the drone, tensing every muscle in her body painfully, her teeth grinding and eyes rolling skyward, her feet grounding the surge, sending the pulse zipping through her toward the earth.

  The energy of the electrical shock sent her slamming backward into the tree, her sight going dark for a terrifying second, her breath whooshing from her lungs.

  A wave of heat washed over her face, and sound exploded so deafening it seemed to come from within her.

  When she’d regained her ability to see, and her breath came heaving back in making her cough as fine debris and soot singed down her windpipe, she was confronted with a blazing pile of several drones’ remains. Her ears were ringing.

  The more distant ones had managed to remain airborne but many were aflame, and as she watched, a few joined the fallen in a heap of glowing metallic embers. Another piece that was losing altitude in sharp judders couldn’t stand the temperature and combusted, dropping into the makeshift bonfire in a clump and sending the heat higher and wider.

  Henley threw her hands up to shield her face. The high-pitched whine that had clogged her hearing was abating, allowing the dull roar and crackle of the fire to replace it. In between her blistering fingers, she observed the remaining pieces of her babies, trapped in the fire’s embrace.

  A gear stuck out, a disk on which she could easily picture the smiling faces of Mickey and Minnie, still dancing as the edges of the clock smoked and curled in, Mickey’s hands pointing at Henley as if she were to blame and Minnie staring desperately at Mickey as though to ensure he be the last image Minnie would see.

  Henley’s mind flashed back, back, back—back seventeen years.

  The reminder held her immobile more strongly than the electric shock, her hands dropping slowly, the remains of the drones flickering in and out of sight behind the dancing and lapping orange tongues. Her arms lifted again, and she stared at the black color, remembering, feeling, burning up from within, overwhelmed.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Henley!” Sirena was screaming at the woods where Henley had led the drones.

  Ace stared mutely, too shocked to chime in. His lie had just been revealed, and still Henley was helping them.

  “Clear the area for landing,” a voice boomed robotically through a speaker on the helicopter that had appeared above them. From underneath, it was impossible to differentiate to whom it belonged. The list was short but the options dire: BTI… or could it be that his letter was received?

  An explosion lit up the forest, the sound rocketing through the noise of the chopper, stealing everyone’s attention, including the bystanders who had given up on remaining in their cars. Several loud bangs followed like aftershocks, a mushrooming tendril of smoke rising up above the canopy.

  Nobody moved from the open space on the tarmac. The helicopter’s skids hovered just over their heads, sending Ace’s too-long hair whipping painfully across his face like Henley’s had in Lindy’s truck. But he couldn’t turn away from the forest.

  “Clear the area,” the voice repeated sternly, “so we can get the girl.”

  Ace didn’t have time to debate. Henley needed help. He only hoped it was his people. Professor Tate was backing away, which gave him confidence. “Move,” Ace roared, charging around to shove those still gaping out of the way. “Get back.”

  He pushed himself in front of the man still clutching Stew like a teddy bear, perching near Sirena and Nor, arms wide like a fence as the ‘copter slowly descended, separating them from Professor Tate… and Henley.

  The side door slid open before Ace could read the logo, and a woman jumped out, ducking low to avoid getting beheaded by the whipping blades.

  Nor pushed past, evading Sirena’s reaching grip.

  “Nor, don’t—”

  “Barb?” Nor said, approaching the woman, who stood up straight, out of the reach of the blades.

  “Nor!” They were shouting back and forth to be heard over the helicopter and the increasing roar of the fire beyond. The woman’s face lit up, and she embraced him. “I’m so glad I found you!” she said, pulling back to look at him with relief like a mother welcoming a child home.

  Ace had no idea if he’d have anyone to welcome him home, if he ever made it.

  The trouble with migrating in a herd like an animal was that everyone had their own personal obstacles that all added to the retardation of the mission, a weak one made the predator salivate and pounce. At least this wasn’t BTI. But they’d left the locket with Jen on the other side. How had the Stanleys’ organization found them?

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Helping you bring in the specimen, of course.” She gave Nor a puzzled look and then looked past to Sirena, who had been moving slowly toward the pair. “And apprehending your kidnapper,” she added, her face darkening. Ace followed her stare to Stew, who was already apprehended but by a different player.

  The kid squirmed a bit, too thin to even budge the huge man holding him though the guy was looking more wary on his own, shifting to the side as though to edge around the helicopter where Professor Tate was last seen.

  “What?” Sirena stepped back into Ace.

  Mistake. He grabbed around her waist, holding her against him. She pulled free, taking a step toward Nor, still fixated on what was happening in front of her.

  “Barb… we have it under control.” Nor was shaking his head.

  The lady looked around. “We who? Where’s Reed?” Her eyes widened, and she stepped back up to the boy who was a little taller than her, grasping his triceps.

  Nor shook his head again.

  Her mouth dropped open, clearly the worst possibility threading through her mind, her expression extreme.

  “Fine,” Nor shouted. “Back there.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

  “Well, grab the specimen, and let’s go get him.” The woman turned to the chopper, climbing in to sit on the nearest seat and beckoning with her hand.

  Nor turned back to Sirena then looked back at the woman, evidently torn between his choices. Then he held out a hand for Sirena. “We can keep you safe.”

  Sirena turned her head to Ace and stepped further out of his reach, then both hands went to her neck as though to strangle herself. The locket wasn’t there, and she dropped her hands. She backed away, eyes wide.

  Ace let her go. He had promised her safety as well, but their trust in him was under question after Professor Tate’s revelation. He didn’t know if he had anyone to turn to.

  “Henley?” she said loudly.

  He nodded.

  Her weird eyes assessed him for a moment, her free hand clutching her uncontrolled green hair in the rotor’s turbulence, much like Henley had in the back of the truck before he’d reseated her. Then Sirena turned and jogged to Nor, who guided her in with a hand to her back.

  Once settled on the seat, the other door opened on the opposite side, and Professor Tate clambered in. The woman named Barb shook her hand while Sirena and Nor froze.

  Beyond them, through the open doors, Ace could see flames snapping at the treetops towering over the roof of the SUV. He willed the helicopter pilot to lift off, taking all his problems with it. He’d be solo again. Almost.

  His brows lowered watching the plume of smoke seep further toward the bridge as the fire expanded. He felt trapped, stuck on the bridge, helplessly on the wrong side while Henley was on land, in danger. Ace understood the impact that this scene would have on her. It was a scene he never wanted to see himself.

  Bodies moved in front of his view, an argument ensuing in the back of the chopper. The pilot decided then that he needed to lift off. The faint sound of a police siren added to the mess, perhaps explaining the rapid departure while the occupants were not comfortably and safely seated.

  A few feet off the ground, Nor shoved Sirena off. S
he stumbled but retained her feet. She turned and looked up, backing away.

  Nor was there, braced in the doorway, rising above her head.

  “Nor—” Sirena’s voice was almost inaudible. Ace doubted Nor was capable of hearing her warning.

  The Professor pushed him aside, about to leap out after her escaping experiment. Nor tried to wrestle her back, but it was clear he was holding back, trying not to hurt the older woman.

  The threat to Sirena shifted, in any case, as Stew came barreling at her. Ace didn’t have time to warn Sirena before she was tackled and dragged in Ace’s direction, away from Nor. The kid was unaware of the barrier he was about to reverse into… or would have if Ace wasn’t already moving, the chopper having lifted enough now for him to dart underneath.

  ∆∆∆

  Only a few feet in, Ace ran up against a wall of heat like standing in front of an oven or walking into the bathroom after his sister had taken a very long, very hot, water-wasting shower. It was spreading quickly. He squinted, shielding his eyes from the bright blaze with a forearm as he searched frantically.

  “Hen?” he called and coughed from the smoke inhalation as he inched his way closer.

  Something smaller combusted in the loudly crackling flames, sending sparks and embers shooting outward.

  Miraculously, a small cry reached Ace’s ears, his poor hearing worsened by the dull roar of the fire consuming everything around it.

  Ace turned that direction, treading carefully over glowing cinders as the fire greedily licked further across the floor.

  There. Her back was pressed against the bark of one of the more massive trees, making her appear minuscule as she faced off against the fire, its glow glaring across her face, lighting it up golden. Her eyes were wide, unblinking, reflecting the scene in front of her—small trees and bushes, forest litter on the floor, all disappearing in the sharp luster and glow that seeped across leaves and skittered up pine needles, hungrily inching like an electrical spark along a wire.

  Ace was sucked back seventeen years.

  ∆∆∆

  “No, please don’t go. Don’t leave us,” his mother begged, both hands wrapped around his father’s as he made his way to the door.

  “I have to. This is my job, Marissa. There are people out there, in danger, trapped in that inferno. Do you want me to just leave them there?”

  “If it means you stay with me, yes,” she whispered, tears streaking down her cheeks. “We already put out an evacuation. They should have left.”

  Ace was crouched in the corner, terrified, his eyes bouncing from one parent to the other, his mom’s fear oozing into him. His father’s pager had gone off like normal, but this time, instead of being proud that Ace’s daddy saved people, his mom had immediately panicked.

  “Marissa,” his dad sighed, his eyebrows pulling down on the outsides. He stopped tugging and moved to clasp both of her hands in his. “I’ll come back. I promise. I always do.”

  “It’s different this time, and you know it.” She hiccupped like Ace did when he drank his juice too fast. “This is dangerous.”

  His dad pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her hair like he did when Grandma had died. She’d cried then, too. Ace’s sister tightened her grip on Ace’s shoulders, holding him where he was. He wanted to go hug his mom, too. She looked so sad, so worried, like the time he had left the garden when she had told him not to.

  He’d come running back at her frantic calls, all smiles, ready to show off the discoveries from his new stomping ground, only to find her perched on the edge of the lawn, her dress twisted in her hands, her face equally twisted, distraught.

  “Don’t be sad, Mommy.”

  His parents looked over at their children then. His dad’s face softened, and he came over to them, but his mom gave another sob and looked away, a palm over her mouth.

  “Hey, bud.” He crouched in front of Ace whose shoulder was in a vice under his sister’s grip. His dad looked at Ace then up at the girl behind him. “Don’t you worry, okay? Your daddy is going to help. There’s a very big fire in the forest, and its threatening a town a little ways down south.”

  “Are you going to go help them, Daddy?”

  “Yeah, bud. And I’ll tell you the number when I get home. It’s going to be big—more than ever before.”

  Ace’s eyes rounded. “More than ever before? More than…” He thought back through all the totals his father had told him after each rescue. He had a journal in his room in which he kept tally of all the people his dad had saved. There had been that restaurant fire. Seven? Or, no, the apartment when someone left a candle on, which was why Ace wasn’t allowed near matches. Eleven. “More than eleven?”

  “I hope so. I’m going to try my hardest. Be good for your mom, okay? I’ll be back soon.”

  From behind him, Ace’s mom gave another sob. Ace couldn’t understand why she was sad. His dad was a hero. Ace wanted to be just like him someday.

  “When’s soon?” the little voice behind Ace piped up, sounding as worried as their mom.

  “As soon as we can get it contained. We don’t want the fire to spread to more people’s houses, right? We don’t want people’s things destroyed.”

  Ace shook his head, knowing his sister did, too. “That would be sad,” Ace said thinking of all the treasures in his room that he’d collected—a bird feather, a shiny rock, the toy cars he and his dad would race along the banister between the downstairs and upstairs and the bathroom and bedroom when he got ready for bed every night.

  “Exactly. So I’m going to go stop it.”

  “You can do that?” Awe filled Ace’s high-pitched voice. He knew his daddy saved people, but he didn’t know he stopped the bad fire.

  His dad smiled. “That fire is hurting the Earth as well as the people.”

  Ace’s mouth formed an o-shape. “It’s hurting the outside?”

  “The trees and the animals.” He nodded.

  “But you’ll save them too, right?”

  “I will, bud. I will.” He gave Ace’s head a gentle rub, reached behind to touch Ace’s sister’s face, then pushed to a stand.

  He didn’t look at Ace’s mommy as he strode past to the door, pulling on his coat. He didn’t have his fireman coat here—it was at the station, a place Ace had been taken once and had found magical. There had been so many heroes, who all called his dad ‘Dan the Fireman’ and made him laugh.

  “Dan,” his mom called, pleading.

  His dad didn’t look around, his hand around the door handle. “Take care of the kids, Marissa. I will be back,” he said with conviction. Then he was gone.

  Ace ran to his mom who had crumpled onto the couch, crying heavily. “Don’t worry, Mommy. Daddy is gonna save people.”

  She nodded, but the tears didn’t stop as he stroked her hair with his small palm.

  Ace’s sister carefully climbed onto the couch, too, curling up behind their mom, her worried eyes on Ace.

  “He’s a hero,” he told her proudly.

  “He’s not a hero if he leaves his family behind,” Ace’s mom said, angrily. “Promise me, Ace. Promise me you won’t ever do what your daddy does. Won’t become a fireman.”

  “Why?” Ace was baffled. Why didn’t his mommy want him to be a hero? “He’s helping people.”

  She shook her head, one hand going to his cheek. She frowned at him, but Ace hadn’t done anything wrong. “He’s not helping his family,” she corrected. “Promise you’ll always think of yourself first, okay? It’s not selfish. Leaving is selfish.”

  “Why?”

  “Because—” She hiccupped again.

  “Because he might not come back,” Valerie said to her brother, turning her face into their mom’s shirt, her little fingers clutching it tight, her wide, wide eyes terrified.

  ∆∆∆

  “Henley!”

  Her eyes darted to Ace, widening impossibly further. She stepped away, distrustful of him now, fleeing his grasp, her hands coming up to ward
him off.

  “We need to get out.” Ace reached out to grab her and yank her away from the hungry embers, while her eyes darted around behind her, looking for another way out.

  She was moving closer to the fire.

  Another pop from dehydrating branches emitted a little shower of sparks over her. They weren’t big, they weren’t many, but instantly, those seeds latched onto Henley and, as if she were a wick, enveloped her entire frame from feet to hair with a whoosh, in an incendiary swallow, as if climbing right up her frame.

  Her screams pierced through it all.

  Ace reacted.

  He dove toward the ball of flames that was Henley, reaching his hand into the blistering heat and biting his lip hard against the shout that wanted to release as the pain seared his hand and etched into his arm. He scooped her over his shoulder as he’d done at the motel, as his father would do, turned and ran, stumbling under the girl whose cries of agony spurred him faster, even faster than he had sprinted in the cornfields, the side of his body broiling.

  Arriving on the bridge, Ace saw only in passing that the helicopter was now high overhead and rising, Nor had Sirena wrapped in his arms right underneath, keeping watch above and on the sporadically placed BTI staff who’d come with the professor and now seemed uncertain if they should do anything. The kid with glasses was now standing on top of the car Ace had stolen, fiddling with something.

  He rushed by, blurring all those problems, keeping his directive on quenching the pain smoldering and slicing through him. Flames licked in front of his vision. Henley had gone quiet, and that worried him more. Her pain would be orders of magnitude greater than his as his momentum and the sea air beyond the forest brought fresh oxygen to feed her roiling, hellish parasite. Ace whipped past it all, pausing not a second as he hoisted himself and Henley onto the balustrade.

  Then, they went over the side of the bridge, plunging into the cold water.

  The difference in temperature shocked his system and sluiced a fresh kind of wrath through his damaged body, making his hands clench around Henley’s body.