Page 46 of If I Were Wind

“A bomb. The mill.” He steadied me.

“The mill?” I turned and gasped. Dark smoke rose from the mill. The blades had been cut off and lay on the ground, contorted and melted. Flames engulfed the lower part of the building. Even the fence had been torn apart by the blow.

“Hell.” I gripped Michael’s arm, nausea churning my stomach. The smoke and dust stung my eyes, and tears welled.

“Bruce and Nathan went to see if there were people trapped in the mill. Can you walk without help?”

“Yes.” I swallowed the dust in my mouth.

“Then go to the manor. I’ll follow Bruce. He might need me.”

“No.” I wiped my face from the dirt. “I want to come with you.” The thought of someone trapped in those flames or under the masonry crumbled around the field sent a chill up my spine.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

I nodded. “Let’s go.”

Through the chaos of alarms ringing, we didn’t get far. A group of very agitated guards blocked us after we slipped through the broken fence.

“Stay where you are.” A man pointed his rifle at us, heavy boots thumping closer. His hands trembled, and his eyes showed too much white. “Don’t move.” The others formed a line next to him.

I held up my hands, swallowing the bitter taste in my mouth. “We want to help. There must be injured people.”

“A squad of medics is working on that.” The man moved his rifle towards the manor. “Go to the manor and wait for orders.”

Michael glanced at what was left of the mill. “But my partner—”

“Go.” The rifle aimed at us again.

“Come on, Michael.” I took his hand, not trusting the control of these men. “Perhaps Bruce and Nathan have been kicked out and are waiting for us back in the manor.”

Shoulders hunched, we headed for the main path that led to the manor surrounded by dust and loud noises.

The air was saturated with the acrid smell of smoke and something similar to bleach and muriatic acid. Whatever they stored in the mill, it must be something incredibly flammable to cause it to burn with tall blue and orange flames that lapped at the sky. They towered over the field, their crackling noise loud and clear even from a distance. My skin crawled at the sight of that fire monster devouring the mill. Sirens pealed from somewhere, and trucks raced along the gravel path towards the disaster.

“Hell,” Michael muttered, wiping the blood from his forehead and staring at the unnaturally coloured flames. “People must have died in that inferno.”

We had never met the scientists and technicians working at the mill. It was forbidden for the cadets to enter the mill, and those who worked there used another guarded entrance instead of the main gates of Raven Park. Still, my heart clenched for those people who were trapped in that nightmare of roaring flames.

When we arrived at the manor, a crowd was gathered in the yard. Whispers and mutters spread around, through cadets, soldiers, and the administration staff. The whole manor was there.

I spotted a golden head at the edge of the crowd. “That’s Bruce.” I grabbed Michael’s arm, and we jogged towards him.

“Mate.” Michael pulled him into a quick hug. “I was worried.”

“I’m fine.” Bruce patted Michael’s shoulder and then mine. His face was blackened by smoke and ash. “Are you all right, Kristin?”

“Just shaken.” I rubbed my arms. “What happened to you? Did you manage to get close to the mill?”

He shook his head. “They didn’t let us in, and I lost Nathan in the chaos.”

“The guards blocked us too,” Michael said, the flames mirroring in his eyes. “What the bloody hell happened?”

“The bloody Irish is my guess.” Bruce used the sleeve of his shirt to clean his face, smearing the dust across his cheek.

“Why would the Irish Republican Army bomb us?” I asked.

The IRA had terrorised London in February. Two exploding devices had blasted the underground at Tottenham Court and Leicester Square. No one had died, but those exploding devices hadn’t been as powerful as the one at the mill. This explosion had been too powerful to be one of the IRA’s bombs. There wasn’t much chance that all the people inside the mill were alive. Too much fire and too much destruction. If they let us help, we could save lives.

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