Then it hit her—there was a lighter downstairs in the kitchen!
Crash!
Cringing, Liza turned and backed up into the counter, watching the still blackness beyond her. The noise had come from downstairs.
No, your mind is playing tricks on you again, Liza. Mourning had left her weak, and she couldn’t sleep, sometimes leaving her confused on what was real and what wasn’t.
She could very easily get the other lighter with no problem; she just had to be fast. Taking a few shaky breaths, she made her way out of the room and down the stairs, keeping a steady hand on the wall.
When she entered the kitchen, she stopped and crinkled her nose as a putrid smell hit her like a train. Had something spoiled? She shook it off and felt down the line of drawers until she came to the one with the birthday candles. Her fingers rummaged around for the big, metal Zippo lighter. It had been a silly gift to Frankie from the last lab secretary who’d thought he liked to smoke with Henry. But it hardly served a purpose other than lighting birthday candles. Liza could just feel it under her palm when a cold breeze shook her wildly.
Surprised, her eyes moved toward the glass French doors that led to her backyard. A flash of lightning briefly lit up the night before plunging her back into darkness.
The doors had been shattered, the glass fragments scattered across the floor. It was only then that she noticed the sound of rain pouring heavily into her house.
Liza froze at the sight. Her body shook and hunched forward. She slowly brought the lighter out, closing the drawer without a sound.
“Liiiiiiiiiiii…”
Her heart jumped into her throat at the garbled sound and her body trembled as her screams fought to stay inside. She turned in the other direction, toward her living room.
“…zzzzzaaaaaaaaa…,” a voice moaned.
It was an awful sound, but there was something familiar about it. Was she dreaming? The past two weeks had felt like nothing more than a big, awful dream. There’s no way that could be… “Frankie?” she whispered.
“Nuuuuuuuuungggg,” it groaned from the shadows.
Her feet shuffled against the floor until her toes met the carpet of the living room. She stopped there. Grasped between both shaking hands was the lighter, held up close in front of her face, doing a poor job of illuminating anything.
Who was it? As she stared into the pitch-black just in front of her, all was still. Whatever made the sound, it was in her mind. The grief of losing Frankie, the stress of his horrific death, the frayed nerves the insomnia gave her… She was losing it.
Trembling, Liza took in a breath of air and let it out, attempting to calm herself. Then she picked her feet up and made herself walk toward the living room.
As she stepped through the doorway, her foot snagged the couch, knocking the lighter out of her hand. As it toppled to the ground, she heard the metal lid clank shut. She dropped to the floor and felt for it blindly. The rain had calmed to a drizzle, but even if it had been pouring like before, there was no denying the sound of gargantuan footsteps making their way over until they stopped right beside her. Heavy breathing reached her ear, each breath sending a tickle on her back. It was raspy but steady, almost like the low growl of a jungle cat. She brought her head up to the sound and stopped dead as she took in a pair of pale, iridescent blue lights fixated on her. The sight made her heart race. Her hands moved quicker on the floor until they met the metal. Taking the lighter in one hand, she stood and held it up in the empty air in front of her. Then she flipped open the lid and spun the wheel, sparking it on once more.
A loud roar filled the air.
Something rammed Liza and she flew back, knocking the wind out of her. Grunting, she landed against the couch, her neck whipping around, causing a great deal of pain. After only a split second, she realized that her hands were empty. Fearful, she looked around.
The soft, silky curtains that hung over her window caught a small flame at the bottom. She watched in horror as the fire crawled up the fabric until it was big and bright.
Another cry filled the air.
Liza turned to the horrible sound, a pain shooting up her neck. The flames warmed her face as they illuminated the room.
Before her stood a gigantic, atrocious monster that cringed at the flames. It had frightful, glowing, blue eyes that transfixed on the fire. Its veins seemed to shine a duller shade of blue beneath its skin. Its mangled mouth revealed teeth of all sorts, gnashing together after each cry of panic. Patches of rotting flesh covered it, all poorly stitched together. And yet, it seemed to have large muscle straining underneath it. Its hideous face scrunched and flexed in a grotesque way. Its trunk-like arms swung at the growing flames.
Horrified, Liza let out a bloodcurdling scream.
The monster paused and glared at her, letting out a roar of his own.
She jumped up and ran toward the kitchen, almost tripping on her own feet, feeling the monster hot on her heels. Throwing herself at the counter, she lunged toward the butcher block on the counter. But before she could spin back around, a large hand yanked her up by the arm. As she was dragged away, she managed to get a hold of the butcher knife.
Liza fought against its grip as it forced her around. When she was turned, the monster’s blue eyes pierced hers, filled with an inhuman rage. It opened his jagged mouth and roared into her face.
Terrified, she reeled the knife back and jammed it into the monster’s chest. When she jerked the weapon out, bright blue splattered them both. She watched in bewilderment as the mangled flesh began to knit back together. The creature knocked the weapon out of her hands and wrapped his arms around her, hoisting her up in the air and pinning her arms to her side. As the monster stared at the spot of the wound, his cries grew louder and his grip around her grew tighter.
Screaming in pain, Liza kicked her legs as the monster squeezed her. She could feel her ribs cracking inside of her.
As if this only upset it, the creature’s grip grew tighter.
A sharp pain made her quiet a moment as she gasped. She could feel something puncture inside of her. After a moment, she coughed wildly, sending warm blood all over her nightgown and the monster.
It grew harder to breathe. She wheezed loudly in an attempt to get air. “Let me go!” she wanted to cry out—but it only came out in a gurgle of crimson liquid. Her chest convulsed as she struggled for air. A warm, wet feeling filled her lungs. Everything grew fuzzy. The monster’s screams grew fainter and fainter.
—
Confused by the lady’s sudden quietness, the creature threw her to the ground where she lay, motionless.
Her pretty face was pale, the bright light of the flames casting wavering shadows across it. Her soft blonde hair was stained red at the ends by the small stream of blood that dribbled from her mouth. Her emerald eyes stared off into the rain. Her body didn’t look right. It was different now, sadder now. It was like she was gone somehow.
It made him sad.
“Nuuuuuuunng,” he grumbled. He scooped up her broken body in his arms—this time, gently. He pulled her up to his face and groaned at her. She needed to get up! He looked up at the flames inching ever closer and back down at her pretty face.
There was no answer, no horrible screams. Only a blank face and a limp body.
Growing angry again, he squeezed her closer to him and shook her in his arms, yelling in frustration.
But she swayed with his motions, no longer struggling against them.
He looked back up at the fire that engulfed the room next to them, flickering hungrily at anything and everything, moving faster. The sight of the fire terrified the great beast for it reminded him of something. He couldn’t quite recall. But it had been awful.
Fire. He remembered the word well. It had been everywhere. One moment, it had consumed him until there was nothing but darkness. Then there had been another fire. He had been trapped and he couldn’t escape—it consumed him, forever biting into his skin, but he couldn’t die. Just t
he thought of going back made him weak with horror.
Crying out in fear, he stumbled back, shielding his eyes and dropping the girl.
Something in him made him stop. He knew that beautiful person. He didn’t want her to feel the awful pain he had experienced.
Each inch the fire crawled toward him, he shuffled back, staring at the woman. He yelled at her to move, to get up, but she would not budge. The flames continued on until they threatened to lick her hair. He grew frustrated, not knowing what to do.
Finally, gathering up the courage, he roared and swooped up the woman, just as the fire danced into her space. He cradled her in his arms like a babe and stared at her face, wondering why she was not responding. Something was wrong.
Whimpering softly, he hurried out the shattered back door, into the wilderness. There, he looked back, making sure they were safe from the flames. Then he walked on, caressing the woman’s features with the tips of his large fingers. Seeing her face ignited something inside of him—something warm and calming. But her face wasn’t right. It wasn’t the same. It was empty. He knew, somewhere inside of him, that she wasn’t with him anymore. He had hurt her. In a sudden burst of realization, he knew what he had done.
The realization made his chest ache as he trudged on. She had cut him there with something, but that had closed quickly, so he knew it wasn’t the wound that pained him. It was something more than that. The pain he felt drained him. When he was finally exhausted by his own grief, he fell against a tree and slid down. “Liiiiizzzaaaaa…” He repeated the word over and over again. It just sounded right to him, like that word went with her, so he kept saying it, hoping she would wake up—knowing she wouldn’t. He leaned his misshapen head against her small one and cried at the death of his loved one.
—
The paper still wasn’t done.
Staring at the laptop screen as she sat at the library, all Suzette could think about was her new ability. She’d managed to get a lot of the assignment done, but it was an exhausting effort. What she needed was to walk, to sort out her thoughts. When she finally peeled herself away from her work and tossed her stuff in the car, she felt free. For an hour, she walked down the cool street, hands stuffed in the pockets of her big, black hoodie, finally getting a chance to really sort out all her thoughts. The sky was dark now, but at least it wasn’t raining anymore.
Her thoughts swirling, she paused at a faint sound in the background. Her pace slowed and she tilted her head this way and that, trying to place the source. As the seconds ticked by, it grew louder and louder, ringing in her ears until she recognized the sirens.
Flashing lights broke through the darkness.
Suzette stopped and watched a flurry of red zoom past her. As the firetruck disappeared in the distance, her thoughts followed it. I wonder if that was Dante. She grinned. Maybe I could…help? If anything, she could just offer her boyfriend a sweet smile to encourage him. But maybe she could do more…
Curious, she started jogging along the sidewalk, past all the sleep-filled houses. As she continued on, she realized that she would have been tired in the past after just a short run, but she now felt exhilarated. She grew faster with each step and the air that filled her lungs seemed to give her some strange sense of rejuvenation. Maybe Lady Augustine wasn’t too far off. Maybe Suzette could be a hero.
But whatever the situation was that required the fire station’s response, she was sure it was probably nothing too serious. It usually never was. Usually, everyone got out of a fire safely in this town; the fire department put out the blaze and that was the end of it. But it doesn’t hurt to look, Suzette thought.
Soon she could see a glow in the distance over the trees and rooftops.
She ran as fast as she could, pumping her arms and legs while her feet hardly nicked the ground. Her eyes barely caught the far-spread houses around her, but they brought a sense of familiarity. When she finally got there, she beheld the scene from the shadows of the trees.
Flames filled her vision. The whole front side of the large, two-story house was swallowed in bright orange, red, and yellow, so thick at the bottom that it appeared the second story floated on fire. The inferno had spread to the rear of the house, engulfing the bottom half, but from what Suzette could see from her vantage point, the back of the second floor hadn’t yet been affected yet. The big red tanker truck sat half on the curb, half on the lawn. Firemen were spread out across the yard, several of them lined up, holding the hose as they tried to spray down the flames. The tight line of trees that surrounded the house seemed to make it harder for the firemen to maneuver and control the situation. Suzette’s stomach knotted as she took in the sight.
That’s Frank’s house. Suzette started forward but quickly stopped and knelt down on her haunches. She forced herself to let out a shaky breath, relieving her built-up anxiety. It’s okay. Everything is fine. What was she thinking? The people in front of her were professionals—real heroes. If she tried to step in, there was a chance she could made things so much worse for everyone. She could have gotten stuck in the fire, meaning she could have got someone else hurt by the flames. No, leave it to the pros, Suzette.
A man stepped in front of her view, barking orders. Probably the fire chief, Suzette noted. A woman firefighter stood next to him.
Suzette crouched lower into the underbrush and leaned in to hear them over the roar of the fire, tucking her hood tight around her face.
“Sir, Stein says the second floor is cleared,” the woman said.
The man cursed. “Idiot! What was he thinking, just running in? He’s lucky. Tell him to get out of there—now.”
The woman repeated the message back into her helmet.
A ghastly creaking noise broke through the hum of the fire, getting louder and louder until—
A bright flash lit up the night, sending out a wave of heat and creating a loud thud. Panic spread out amongst the workers.
Suzette whole body stiffened as she gaped at the collapsed front half of what used to be Franklin Stein’s house.
“Tell Stein to hurry—before the rest of the place comes down!” cried the chief.
The woman stared at the building, her hand to her ear. “Stein?” She waited. “Stein!”
Suzette’s body shook as she listened.
The woman turned to the fire chief. “He’s unresponsive.”
The man cursed again and looked up as a fireman sprinted toward him. “Sir! They found the gas lines near the back—they’re not cut off yet!”
The fire chief tensed for the briefest of moments before he darted forward. “Get the hose to the back! Bring the ladder around—as quick as you can!”
All the workers started toward the left side of the house.
Suzette felt like she was spiraling as she saw them start to scramble. The trees are too tight to get the ladder truck close enough! They’ll never get to him!
Suzette sprang up from her hiding place, darting through the woods along the right side of the house and into the backyard, staying against the tree line. She could make out the firemen trying to spray down the left side of the house, perhaps to kill the flames enough to crane the ladder as best they could manage.
Suzette felt herself panicking as her eyes danced around the scene. The flames were too thick on the first floor for anyone to get through the house from there. What remained of the second floor was still intact, but the fire slowly ate away at it, a bright orange glowing from inside the furthest window.
The window!
Suzette’s feet lurched forward on their own volition. She stumbled as she realized what her instincts were asking of her, but she kept going. The request made her bite down on her bottom lip, but she pressed forward, her heart aching at the idea of Dante succumbing to the flames. As she ran toward the building, her eyes locked on the drainpipe, she prayed for a miracle.
Her legs propelled her up onto the AC unit, the heat of the fire licking at her limbs. Her hands flexed open and grabbed the thin anchors tha
t held the drainpipe against the house. Her fingers struggled on the tiny grip, but time slowed and her feet brought themselves up against the pipe to support her. The muscles in her arms strained, but she knew it was nothing compared to what it could’ve been. As quick as she could, Suzette scrambled up the pipe and onto the slab of roof in front of the window. She brought up her elbow and drove it through the glass, kicking out enough for her to wriggle through.
Once inside, she cringed at the intense temperature, bringing her arms up to block her face. Her eyes watered at all the smoke. She peered through her arms and looked around.
The room was still heavily intact where she stood, but the ceiling had completely given out, crumbling still as she stood there. The door beyond revealed the bright, fierce inferno that grew thicker and thicker, emanating an unbearable heat. Lodged under one of the loose beams sat a figure dressed in fireman garb, moving slightly. The flames were just far enough from him not to do any damage, but they steadily crept closer.
Suzette wasted no time. She ran forward, her instincts forcing her to dodge any of the flaming debris that fell above her head, stepping a different direction when the floor threatened to give out. She groaned the closer she got to the blaze, but she lunged forward, took up Dante’s arms, and dragged him out from under the beam, straining the whole way. Once he was clear, she hooked her arms under his and hoisted him up as best she could, pulling him toward the window. His legs struggled to stand, his mind clearly weak from the impact of the beam, but he managed to help her a few steps before falling back into her. Suzette and Dante stumbled out of the window. She quickly grabbed the ledge with one hand and the sleeve of his suit with the other. When they were steady, she let him go and let him plop to the ground, where he rolled in pain, finally coming to. She landed safely next to him.
As she took a step away from him, her instincts jerked her back. Without thinking, she grabbed him by the back of his jacket and dragged him further away from the house, into the shade of the trees. Then she hurried around to the left side of the house and stared down the side, where the flames were just low enough for the firefighters to bring up the truck’s ladder. The firemen with the hose stood just under the trees, continuously spraying. The ladder slowly made its way over.
Blind World (The Onyx Fox Saga Book 1) Page 13