“You came here with your big ideas about planting fruit trees and buying up land. You started your business, and my father,” George shook his head in a disgusted manner, “My father thought the sun rose and set with you.Why can’t you be more like that Mr. Flint?My father would say.The young man seems like a real go-getter.Psh!” George spat in the dirt once more.
“That’s what I think of Marcus Flint, the great businessman,” George sneered. “I may have tried to hinder your business, but you came to my house and assaulted me.” Mark was sure he was going to strike him. Instead, George inhaled raised his hands above his head, and shouted, “You attacked me in my own home!”
“Seems like you’re returning the favor now,” Mark spat as he put his hands on the ground to stand.
George roared as he tackled Mark. The two men fell back to the earth as one, and Mark’s head bounced off the ground.
“Get off me,” Mark yelled in George’s face, doing his best to reposition himself, but when they landed, George fell right on top of him. Mark could see the madness glinting in his eyes. He was breathing heavily, and his weight pressed on Mark’s chest. Mark moved his hands underneath George’s shoulders and pushed hard using all his strength. Whether it was the force of the shove or the fact that Mark caught George off-balance, he did not know, but George’s weight lifted off him, and he scrambled to crawl away from the man.
George was on his feet in an instant and kicked Mark once more. Mark did his best to crawl away from his attacker on all-fours, but he couldn’t escape George and the sharp point of his boot. Mark knew he couldn’t let George continue kicking him, so his left hand flicked out, grabbed George’s ankle, and yanked hard. George lost his balance and fell to the ground, landing on his bottom with a heavy thud.
“You—” Outraged, George growled threats at Mark, but Mark didn’t hear them; he was struggling to get away from George. Just as Mark pushed himself back up to his knees, George lunged at him once more, wrapping his fingers around Mark’s throat.
“Now you’ll pay,” George hissed triumphantly as he squeezed tighter. Mark did everything in his power to struggle against George. His own hands flew to his neck, and he tried to pry George’s fingers off. He twisted his head, attempting to bite George’s hands or even his arms, but it was useless.
As Mark fought against him, George’s maniacal laughter rang in Mark’s ears as he felt George’s strong fingers winding more tightly around his neck.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“What’s that sound?” Layla asked, whipping around the front yard. Having dumped yet another bucket of water onto the front of the house, she raced to stand beside Mrs. Calkins and little Heath. “Did you hear something?”
The lady shook her head. “I didn’t hear a thing. The fire is so loud. I …” Mrs. Calkins whispered, horrified as she stared at the house. She bounced Heath on her hip, but her concern was apparent. Her eyes were moist with tears, and Layla could see that she had been crying. She must have known as Layla did—Mark had been inside for far too long. If there was any chance of him making it to safety, he would have emerged from the house by now.
Layla squinted, trying to stare into the darkness of the doorway. “I thought I heard something.”
A ragged voice shouted in the distance.
“There it is again,” Layla gasped hopefully, glancing at Mrs. Calkins. “You heard it that time, right, Mrs. Calkins? You heard it, Heath?”
“Dada?” Heath asked, and Layla’s heart jumped in her chest.
“Yes, Heath, I think it was Dada.” Her head swiveled as she scanned the yard for the source of the noise.
“You!” A powerful voice shouted, and Layla’s heart beat furiously. She didn’t recognize the voice. It didn’t sound like Mark, but she couldn’t be sure, and she wasn’t taking any chances.
“Stay here,” she ordered Mrs. Calkins. “Keep the baby safe. I’ve got to find Mark. Tell the others I’ve gone to help my husband.”
Mrs. Calkins protested; Layla heard her calling, but she paid her no mind. She knew that she had heard Mark’s voice, but she heard another voice shout as well. Layla feared that Mark was in even worse trouble than before.
She skirted around the side of the house, keeping her distance as the fire repulsed her with its heat. It was as though her feet were barely touching the ground as she flew around the backside of the house. When the garden came into view, she heard Mark once more.
“Get off me,” Mark yelled with a man positioned on top of him. Even from a distance, Layla could see that the man who had Mark pinned had his fingers wrapped around Mark’s throat.
“No!” she screamed as she vaulted herself onto the man’s back. She pounded her fists up and down his spine and heard him curse. “Leave him alone!” Layla shouted as the man struggled beneath her.
He rolled his shoulder back, and she fell off him. She lay in the dirt, panting from the exertion. When she lifted her head, Mark rolled underneath the man, the man moving with him.
Layla picked herself up as Mark struggled to get to his feet. When he did, she could tell he was exhausted. Remnants of the smoke covered his face in black smudges. His dark hair stood straight up in some places but was matted in others. His thin cotton shirt was torn and, where his skin was exposed, a small cut that was trickling blood.
Mark didn’t seem to recognize Layla was there or that she had come to his aid as he swayed where he stood. He looked unsteady on his feet, and Layla wanted very badly to rush to his side and aid him, but she was having a tough time moving. Closer to the house, the smoke pouring out of it was affecting her again. Her lungs ached, and every time she tried to stand properly, she coughed.
The man, who had been on top of Mark, rose to a standing position and extended his arms in Mark’s direction. Mark tried to put up his hands to block the man from making any further attacks, but his attempts were futile. The man rushed at Mark, once more wrapping his thick hands around Mark’s neck.
“No!” Layla gasped and found the will to motivate her legs to move.
She ran but stumbled once more, just inches from the man and Mark, when a loud voice called out, “Stop!”
Startled, Layla froze, her fists poised in the air, ready to strike. The attacker did not seem to hear as he didn’t release Mark. The man wheezed as if it took all his effort to control Mark.
