CLAY
They were burning.
Smoke, thick and acrid, filled the air, and I coughed, choking on it as the wood at my feet glowed with hot embers and the wallpaper curled and burned in the face of the heat. I was blind unless I stayed low, could barely breathe without heaving, and everything was so hot.
And they were burning.
I knew they were there somewhere, lost in the hell that was all my fault, but I couldn’t find them!
Which door? There were more than I remembered, and they were all closed. I tried the first and yanked my hand back with a hiss; the metal was so hot it was a miracle it hadn’t melted. Terror swirled through me like a whirlpool, and I swore I could hear someone crying out, calling my name in horror and fear, pleading.
I tried to call a name, but choked again, buckling forward and choking on the taste of ash and smoke. It was everywhere and I couldn’t... Where was I?
Stumbling, I stopped when my feet met something on the floor. It was next to impossible to see, but I bent down, and in the light of the flames, I could see a stuffed lion. His ear wassinged, and his tail was on fire, but I put it out, gathering it to my chest and holding it there, hoping it would give me strength.
But I couldn’t do it. They were lost somewhere in the house, and there was no way to find them. They were going to be trapped, and I wouldn’t be able to save them. Maybe if I could just find them, I could get them out, even if it meant I stayed behind. That made sense, that was almost right. They deserved to live, to be free, and I deserved to be here in the hell of my own making.
It was my fault. None of them should have been here. They were only here because of me, and now I couldn’t find the strength to help them.
They were crying out for me, no question about it now. Except their voices came from every direction, there was no way to figure out where they were trapped. Now the roar of the fire and the crackle of the place burning were drowned out by their cries.
Oh God, they were burning, they were all burning.
I needed to find them.
“Gina!” I cried, slamming into a wall that I swear hadn’t been there before. “Mikael!”
Their cries were mixed, turning into hell’s choir as it filled the hallway and pounded in my ears.
I could smell them now, even as they continued to cry out believing I could save them; I could smell them, smell their burning hair and skin.
I was trapped.
There were doors on each side of me, and none of them would open. One of them was shaking as if someone were beating on it heavily from the other side, and that was when I realized I could hear them. Except I couldn’t get the door open, I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t save myself.
We were all trapped.
“Mikael!” I screamed, hammering at the shaking door. “Gina!”
“Isaac!”
“Isaac!”
That was my voice. But nothing was making sense. I wasn’t in the fire anymore, but it was way too hot. The smell of ash and smoke still seemed to be there, but there was something sharp and ugly in the air too that I didn’t recognize right away.
And it was sobright.
“Fuckin’ hell!”
“Clay, no!”
“Oh my God, why is he so strong?”
“Isaac!”
Hands closed over my face, and I tensed to swing, but then the ugly, bright lights were blotted out, and a beautiful, wonderful face full of worried concern was hovering inches over me. Isaac smiled. It was a fragile and desperate thing, but at least it made the world make sense. “Hey, hey, hey, I’m here. I’m here, Clay. I promise, okay? I’m right here, and I’m okay, and you’re...you’re okay, alright? I’m right here.”
He was...real?
