Boots pounded on the ground outside the bathroom, and then the door shook with a thud. Wood at the hinges splintered. Another hit. The top corner of the door snapped back, opening to the captain’s snarling face.
“Crazy bitch!” He tore at the door with his bare hands, kicking holes through the bottom with his feet, and then snapped the top down entirely.
Miya jumped from the tub, soaked with water, and used the hand protected by her wet pants to lift the burning shower rod.
The captain tore his way through the door into the bathroom and lunged.
Miya swung with all her might.
The flaming rod smacked into his face. Back down against his eye.
Yes, it worked.
He fell back, a blood-curdling shriek erupting from his gaping mouth.
It was the best sound Miya had ever heard.
Melted plastic dripped down his cheek.
He wiped frantically at his face, spreading the molten material.
Heart beating hard in her chest, her gut, her face, all over her body, Miya batted him on the side of his head. Ripped back for another. The way he'd made her feel from the first day they met drove her next swing.
He grabbed the rod and dropped it with a roar. Plastic smothered his hands.
The smoke choked her lungs. She coughed, sinuses burning. Should she run now? Was he hurt enough?
He fell to the ground and plunged his hands in the toilet, bending so he could splash his face, screaming and crying inside the bowl.
Flames licked at her fingers, but she took the pain and whacked him in the back. Grimacing, she rolled the rod down him so burning plastic draped him in a sheet.
It was working. She’d done real damage. Hope pounded with her heart.
She moved for his keys, but a warning pang in her stomach stopped her. Her eyes fell to the muscles tightened against his shirt. No. Miya had to keep her distance and eliminate the advantage of his strength.
The fire erupted with a pop and consumed the ceiling. She clambered out to the living room, hauled the mattress off the frame, and shoved it against the bathroom door.
The captain knocked it down and dragged himself over it, one eye shut against the bits of plastic fusing his eyelid.
Miya ignored him and jumped on a board in the bed frame until it broke.
Fire ate up the captain’s leg, spreading over the mattress. As he rolled on the ground to put out the flames, Miya leveraged the wood beneath one of the boards in the window. She cried out as she used her full weight and strength to pry her way to freedom.
Come on! She had to get out of here!
The nails squeaked as they loosened. Pain filled her lungs from the smoke, the exertion throwing her into a coughing fit.
The fire followed after the captain. He limped for her, his legs smoking and pants burned partially off. Agony puckered his face in angry lines.
Snap.
One board broke free. No time for the other. She yanked the one and turned to face him, holding it like a bat.
He paused. Maybe taking her more seriously. Maybe planning everything he’d do to her once he caught her. The heat from the flames slickened her in sweat.
“You need me alive or you're screwed,” Miya said. “At this rate, we'll both die.”
He stepped toward her. She held her ground.
