As we wandered down the path toward the duck pond, my hand in George’s clammy one, I drew up all the rage I’d hidden inside me. It wasn’t difficult – all I had to do was recall the horrors of Derleth Academy and heat flared along my arms, reaching into my fingers and swirling around the tips. It pooled in my palms like raindrops finding the cracks between cobbles, until it grew uncomfortable for George and he yanked his hand away. “Too hot,” he mumbled at his shoes.
I pictured Ayaz’s face twisted with contempt, the way he’d looked at me as if I was a bug – so insignificant I wasn’t even worth squashing. They had taken one of the most precious things in my life and twisted it into something ugly, and for that, I would feel no remorse for what I was about to do. I held that image in my mind until the fire burned it to ash. When there was nothing left of me but my anger, I directed my palms toward the dormitories and remembered the way my sheets twisted around our legs as Ayaz held me in my dorm that night, the way the old mattress groaned under his weight as he’d climbed on top of me, the warmth he brought to that cold, damp cell and my even colder heart.
Ipushedwith my mind, driving the memory into the flames until it smoldered with my rage. And I thought of other mattresses I’d seen – narrow beds in cells that held the broken bodies and minds of my fellow inmates. And I thought of what they might have been forced to endure under the care of Dr. Peaslee – all in the name of silencing their cries.
And just like that, the heat burned through my palms, leaving my body and flying like a hot wind of change toward the dormitories.
I had no way of knowing if it had done what I’d sought out to do. My fingers cooled, and I took George’s hand again, trying to resist looking up at the building as we moved along the path. We passed under an arch of roses, stopping so inmates could stoop to sniff the fragrant flowers. I lifted my chin and bent towards a red rose – the color the same crimson as the highlights in Trey’s hair when they caught the light.
The color of blood.
I sniffed the air. Beyond the cloying scent of the rose was something acrid – the faintest whiff of burning on the breeze.
That was my first clue. We continued our walk, passing through the entrance to the kitchen garden. The cook stopped snipping the rosemary bushes as the alarm sounded from inside. Nurse Craig stopped in her tracks, unsure of her next move.
Nurse Waterford burst from the fire exit, a trail of black smoke snaking around her heels. She sprinted across the courtyard toward us, waving her arms.
“Don’t go near the buildings!”
“What’s happened?” Nurse Craig called.
“What does it look like? Get the patients under the rotunda.” Doors banged as the orderlies and other staff exited the building, pushing patients in wheelchairs toward the rotunda that served as the emergency meeting point. I cast my eyes up to the second story, where the first tendrils of smoke curled from the narrow dorm windows, turned black from the chemicals in the mattresses. “The fire department is on their way.”
“But what happened? How could we have a fire?” Nurse Craig seemed rooted in place, frozen by the improbability of the event.
“It doesn’t make any sense!” Nurse Waterford cried, her usual stoic facade shattered. “Every mattress is ablaze. It’s completely impossible.”
The scream of the alarm buzzed inside my head. The nurses shoved us back toward the lawn. I pressed my burning palms together, and the large oak tree over the rotunda burst into flame.
What people never tell you about fire is that its power is mostly in its invisibility. Sure, the leaping flames tearing through the oak were frightening, but it was the heat that seared the air and robbed the oxygen that was the true malice. A wave of heat rolled off the tree, engulfing me, squeezing sweat from my body. It reminded me of the oppressive embodiment of the god’s darkness – the way he could befelteven though he had no form.
The tree crackled as branches snapped and splintered off, ancient wood succumbing to immolation.
Nurse Craig screamed. Patients and orderlies ran in all directions as a flaming branch snapped off and crashed to the ground. In the chaos, I slipped away from the group and ducked back through the gate into the kitchen garden. I crouched behind the rosemary bush and sent a ball of fire at the wooden gate. The guard on duty leaped back as the flames made quick work of the wood. He barreled across the lawn towards the others, barking orders into his walkie-talkie. I flattened myself against the wall, my heart pounding against my chest. As soon as he was out of sight, I ran for it.
The flames had torn a hole in the wood large enough for me to pass through, if only I could get close enough to handle the heat. I sucked in a breath and lunged for the gate. Heat rolled over my body, a hand of caution pushing me back, reminding me what fire could do when it touched skin. I steadied myself, closed my eyes against the wall of flame, and sprinted through the hole.
Heat engulfed me, bringing with it pain that tore at my chest and roared in my ears. I imagined I saw my mother’s face at the window, her mouth open in a silent scream as an orange halo framed her head. I reached through the flames toward her, desperate to pull her to safety. But she was unreachable. Gone to the angels, where they could place a real halo on her head while I burned up down below.
And then I lurched forward, releasing myself from the fire’s possession.
My eyes flew open as I rolled across gravel. I lay in the middle of a narrow access road, flanked by towering trees. Sirens screamed from the village. Behind the walls, the Dunwich Institute burned. Good fucking riddance. I was on the right side of the fence.
I was free.
If I wanted to stay free, I had no time to stop and smell the roses. I crawled into the shadows of the trees, checking my body over for injuries. Apart from another burn on my wrist just above the scar of the first, I was untouched. Now I had to figure out what to do next.
It would take the firefighters some time to put out the blaze since it had started simultaneously in multiple rooms. By now the nurses would have realized I was missing, but I hoped they’d assume I’d run back inside or hid on the grounds and wouldn’t send out a search party for some time. I needed to be as far away as possible when that happened.
I hauled myself to my feet and headed deeper into the forest, walking downhill in the direction of Arkham. The town nestled on the curve of the coast at the mouth of the peninsula, surrounded on three sides by dense forest and one side by that cold, unforgiving ocean. It was one of the earliest settlements in the area – not quite as old as Salem, but practically contemporary. In many ways, Arkham functioned much as it always had – the fishing industry provided much of the town’s employment, and I got the vibe from what Ayaz told me that the residents still regarded Parris’ home on the peninsula and the elite who came through with distrust. I could expect no help from the town, but I was never one to ask for help when I could do something myself. Arkham was closest, and it would have the supplies I needed immediately.
As I walked, various options of what to do next played out inside my head. I could hitch a ride to the West Coast. I could go across the border to Canada. Hell, I could try Mexico or Ireland or even Romania. Romania could be cool. As soon as an idea appeared, I would hold it in my head, pleased for a moment to consider how easily I could slip away from this cursed place and disappear completely, before dismissing it.
I didn’t have options. I had people that needed me – Greg and Andre and Trey and Quinn and the rest of the Miskatonic students. And Ayaz. Maybe he needed me most of all.
I couldn’t leave Arkham until I achieved what I set out to do.
They would all have this taste of freedom if it was the last thing I did.
