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OLIVER
No gear. No masks. No suit. Nothing to protect ourselves from the wide, red snakes of flame slithering across her living room floor. The smoke was already thick and made it impossible to see, but I'd heard a door slam somewhere in the house and, immediately, I knew what was happening to us.
Somebody had snuck inside, doused the place in gasoline, struck the match that set it ablaze, and ran out, trapping us inside. Ran away like a little bitch.
He was getting sloppy, I thought to myself. Sloppy and bold. But, none of that really mattered if we were dead. He seemed focused on one thing and one thing alone – killing Madison. We'd been operating under the assumption that he was nervous about her re-opening the old arson cases. And to me, that still seemed the most logical assumption to make.
But, I had to admit, it could just as easily be a crazed fan, a jealous ex, or maybe a guy whose love went unrequited and he'd developed an unhealthy obsession with her. She could be a target for a million different reasons.
I had no idea who he was, what his beef with her could be, or why he was so intent on murdering her – not with any certainty. But, my only goal was to make sure that didn't happen. That I protected her and kept her alive.
My phone was in my pocket, Jimmy's message still open. I hit call, knowing he wouldn't let me down. Putting the phone on speaker, I had Madison give the address when he answered as I rushed out into the living room. Madison screamed my name, terror punctuating her every word. I didn't have time to go back and soothe her. Couldn't afford to take the time to calm her down. I needed to act and I needed to act fast, so I called out to her as I ran from the room.
“Stay put,” I yelled. “I know what I'm doing.”
The kitchen was right by the living room – thank you, open floor plans. Water. We needed some water. I grabbed the spray nozzle, but it wasn't long enough to reach. Not only that, when I squeezed the trigger, I found that there wasn't even enough pressure to make a difference. Which meant, I needed buckets or something more powerful. I searched around the kitchen quickly, flinging open drawers and cabinets, looking for something to use to battle this blaze. But, I came up empty.
The smoke was growing thicker, the heat inside her place more intense. Flames licked at the doorway that led to the back of her house, burning bright and hot. We couldn't get out that way. I heard Madison's coughing growing louder, more insistent. For her, it had to be like re-living the night in the warehouse and I couldn't even begin to imagine the terror she had to be feeling.
We had to find a way out. Soon. If we didn't, we were both going to die. I looked toward the front door and saw that it was blocked by a solid curtain of flames that burned bright and angry. The smoke stung my eyes and was clouding my vision. I couldn't see a thing.
This was bad. And it was getting worse. If I didn't get Madison out of here soon, we were both going to succumb to the smoke, pass out, and ultimately die. I couldn't let it happen. Wouldn't let it happen.
Coughing and blinking back the tears that stung my eyes, I felt my way back along the wall toward the bedroom. I dashed inside and slammed the door. The room was already thick with smoke, but I wanted to keep any more from getting in. Plus, the door would provide a brief buffer from the flames that were crawling down the hallway like serpents from hell.
I found Madison crumpled on the floor underneath the window. I tried to lift it, only to find that it had been nailed shut. I banged on the window, hoping I could break it, but found that it wasn't glass. It was some sort of a double-paned plexiglass or something like they use around the tellers in banks.
In other words, it was unbreakable.
The mystery man had thought of everything. He'd turned Madison's home into a deathtrap. One I was beginning to doubt we were going to get out of. Lying on the ground at my feet, Madison coughed violently, tears cutting through the soot on her face. Dashing into the bathroom, I flipped on the water and ran a couple of washcloths beneath the faucet. When they were good and soaked, I took them back out to the bedroom.
I helped Madison to her feet and handed her one of the wet washcloths.
“Put this over your mouth,” I said. “It'll help filter out the smoke.”
“We're going to die here,” she replied, her voice cold and resigned. “He killed us.”
“Bullshit,” I snapped. “Put the fucking washcloth over your mouth. Now.”
She did as she was told, but I could see by the look in her eyes that she was on the verge of giving up already. We stood there, in the middle of her room, and I looked around, frantically looking for some way out of this fucked up mess. I wasn't willing to give up and I sure as hell wasn't going to let her.
The loud popping a
nd cracking of wood echoed through the room as the fire continued its relentless march down the hallway. The paint on her door was beginning to bubble, telling me the flames were right outside. As if confirming my thought, a crack ruptured the door, thick as a thumb, running from the bottom of the frame, up to the doorknob. Tendrils of smoke poured through the crack along with the red and orange glow of the flames pressing to get through.
Then I heard the sirens outside. Jimmy and the crew must have broken the land speed record to get to her house, but the trucks were outside. A wave of relief, powerful and abiding, washed over me.
I imagined the buzz of activity going on outside the house as the crew geared up and started to battle the blaze. Hoses were run out of the pumpers and the crew was lining up. I knew that Jimmy and whoever he partnered with, would be coming through the door to find us as the rest of the team hit the house with the water and fire retardant.
“You're going to be fine,” I said to Madison. “We're going to be fine.”
The words were barely out of my mouth when a deep and ominous groan sounded overhead. The groan was followed by hard, loud cracks and pops. The fire was in the attic already and, given how dry they tended to be, was eating its way through the roof. It wasn't going to be long before the flames came bursting through as the whole ceiling came crashing down on us.
Which meant, I needed to get Madison out of there. I couldn't lose her. Not the same way I'd lost Lauren. I wouldn't. I needed to get to her out of the house and I couldn't afford to wait until Jimmy and the guys found us. Time was ticking and the pressure was building.
The ceiling above us moaned and creaked like a dying animal. There was a loud pop and crash overhead – I imagined some of the overhead beams in the attic were already starting to come down in flaming ruin. The house had less material for the fire to eat than the warehouse did, which meant that time was very quickly running out.
“Okay, we're going out there,” I said. “We have to make a run for the front door.”
