Damiano is next to me, looking one way while I look the other.It’s impossible to see much at all.We’re surrounded by flames.
“We have to go!”Kristoff shouts.“We’ll get caught otherwise.”
Out of the question.I’m not going anywhere until I find Madison.“You two go,” I shout back.“You and Hannah.We’ll be right after you.”
Kristoff knows me too well.He shakes his head.I have a feeling he’ll stay until the last possible second, if for no other reason than to drag me out.
Good fucking luck.I’m not leaving without her.
A chair lies on its side, strips of fabric coiled next to it.She was tied there, no doubt.When the fire started, her captor probably freed her and…and where are they now?
Kristoff rushes to a form on the floor, which is barely visible through the haze.I see jean-clad legs and nearly choke.Is that Madison?
Through the smoke, large tennis shoes come into view.This isn’t Madison.The legs and feet are too big.My gaze travels upward, past the t-shirt, to take in his face.I don’t recognize him.
Blood pools around the back of his head and his unseeing, gray eyes stare at the ceiling.Flames flicker up and down his arms, melting his shirt to his skin and giving off a grotesque stench.
Kristoff, rather unnecessarily, checks for the guy’s pulse.“He’s dead.”
I want to know who the fuck he is and why he was down here with Madison, but that’s a question for later.First, we have to find our girl.
The room is only about two hundred square feet.She should be here.I know I heard her down here, trying to signal us.It wasn’t that asshole on the floor knocking around.
The four of us stalk back and forth, searching the floor, searching the flames, fearing the worst.
I’ve been up and down my section twice now, and the others have searched as well.There’s no sign of her.
Madison isn’t here.
But she can’t just disappear.
I try to imagine the scenario.The asshole has her down here as a captive, most likely.She can’t shout for us.He somehow starts the fire—or hell, maybe Madison does, to provide a distraction or an escape.The guy not-so-tragically dies.Madison is trapped with the fire.Can she hear us shouting for her?Maybe not—it’s fucking loud with the roar of the flames consuming everything in their path.
She couldn’t hear us, is my guess.So she somehow makes her way…out of the basement.But how?Where?
“Look for another way out!”I raise my gaze through the smoke, to the upper edges of the room.There could be a crawl space, or another secret door.She has to have gone somewhere.
I slip and scramble on magazines as I hurry back across the room.Damiano and the others do the same.
“We have to get out of here soon,” Kristoff warns.“The whole thing could come down on us.”
I can’t worry about that.I need to know where she went.I can’t leave here until we know for certain that she’s safe.
This time, instead of searching the floor, I look along the walls.The basement room is small, but the house’s footprint is much bigger.If this area were blocked off at some point, there could be a lot more space beyond it.
“There.”Damiano points at a gap at a higher point in the wall.Smoke flows up and into the gap.“She went through there.”
MADISON
I’m vaguely aware of someone dragging me somewhere.My thoughts are smoky, and my throat stings.Everything is dark, but I can breathe, at least.
The man carrying me pauses to take off my gag.“Are you okay, Madison?”
His voice is familiar, but it’s too hard to connect the dots in my mind.
I moan.Words are too hard.Even the moan hurts my throat.
Cool air washes over my face and arms.I catch a glimpse of my orange trees.Then bright, emergency lights flash ahead, blinding me.I shut my eyes tight.
