I laugh. “We can’t be mermaids. We’d have to stay in the ocean forever.”
The sad smile from before returns, and she takes a deep breath of the salty air. “Would that be so bad though? To just be free. Swim away without a care in the world.”
“I suppose.”
Her melancholy has always confused me. It’s like she doesn’t realize she already has the perfect life at her fingertips. We have lots of money and a big house and a lot of food. I even have my own treehouse in the backyard. Yet, her lows are so low. And it’s not just the drinking. Sometimes, she can’t get herself to leave the house for weeks. Those are the times that scare me the most.
I take a deep breath. “Will you be happy if we come back here to live?”
Her green eyes meet mine, and they sparkle as she nods. “I think I would, yes.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.”
“I hope so,” she says. “Do you want to go back to the beach?”
“Yes.” I grab her hand, and we walk back into the sand.
She gives my fingers a squeeze. “I have a friend I want you to meet next week,” she says slowly as we walk. “I think he’s going to change our lives. I really like him.”
“Then I like him too.”
She laughs, the sound almost lost over the roar of the ocean. “You haven’t even met him.” I just shrug. If she’s happy, that’s what matters. It’s all I want.
“His name is Dennis.”
Dennis.
My muscles are screaming in pain as my eyes fly open. I buck against the heavy weight covering my body. My movement catches Dennis just before he can enter me, and his balance teeters. I sense an opening, and I throw my free elbow back and hit him squarely in the neck. He grunts, and suddenly I can move again except for my feet.
I kick violently, a feral scream ripping from my throat as I bite and scratch any bit of his skin I can reach. My foot slams into the old heater, and white-hot pain erupts as the coils burn my heel. It topples forward and lands face down on the blanket beneath us.
I manage to roll onto my back just as Dennis throws himself on top of me, his eyes black with rage. “Goddammit, Fiona!” Dennis barks, and I spit into his face and push at his chest as hard as I can. He tumbles off my body, and I roll away from him and scramble toward the pile of my clothes.
He grabs my foot, dragging me back, but I kick again, and he takes a heel to the eye. The burning smell of cotton fills the room, and panic seizes my lungs when I realize that the blanket is on fire. Orange flames spread quickly on the dry fabric, and it’s so close to my skin that I’m sure my leg hair singes away. I jump back.
Dennis isn’t so lucky. He’s still on the blanket, clutching his face and groaning, and so far, he hasn’t noticed the flames licking at his feet. I grab a shirt and underwear, pulling them on as I run on unsteady feet. The raw burn on my heel screams in pain every time I put weight on it, but I grit my teeth and limp toward the door.
I pull on the handle, yanking with all my strength whilesmoke floods the room. The door doesn’t move, and my eyes drop to the rusty keyhole.
He must’ve locked it.
Dennis screams, and I whirl around. He’s stark naked, except for his socks, and one of them is on fire. He’s dancing around, shaking his foot frantically.
My eyes fall to his suit, which he kicked out of the way in all chaos. The flames have spread, lighting up the loose hay and debris strewn about the old barn. I cover my mouth, taking shallow breaths so I don’t inhale too much smoke, and run to Dennis’s coat, rummaging through the pockets.
When my fingers close around the small metal key, a jolt of hope springs into my chest, and I dash back to the door and stick it into the keyhole. But when I turn it, something snaps, and I stare in horror at the broken key in my hand. I pull at the door, and pound on it with my fists, screaming in frustration.
The sound of metal clattering to the floor steals my attention, and I look back in time to see Dennis trapped between a row of flaming hay bales and the wall. Tools fall precariously around him as he backs into them in his panic to escape the growing inferno.
That’s when I notice the ax.
Running forward, I edge around the flames, which are now climbing into the rafters overhead. There’s a creaking sound and then a loud crack, and I fall to my knees, curling into a ball just asa large beam lands inches from my face and splintered wood showers over my half-naked body.
When I push myself up, I see the fire is creeping toward the tractor and the stack of gas cans next to it. I have no idea if there’s gas in them, but my brain goes to cinematic explosions, spurring me to act quickly.
I grab the ax, hop to my feet, and rush back to the door. And I start swinging. And swinging. I grip the handle so tightly that bits of wood dig into my palms. Sweat drips down my face,stinging my eyes, as I puff and pant with every swing at the wood-paneled wall. I have to pause when I choke on the smoke, coughing so hard I almost vomit.
Clutching my stomach, I drop to my knees, trying to get below the haze to catch my breath. But the fire is sucking the oxygen from my lungs. Fear grips me as I realize that I might die here. Gathering my strength, I stand and deliver one last strong hack. The wood splits, and cold wind gusts against my slick skin. I take a deep breath of fresh air and swing again, and this time, the opening widens. I drop the ax and push myself through, the jagged edges of the wood scratching and cutting my skin as I scramble to escape the inferno.
