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He wiped sweat from his temples. “I wish she didn’t have to go through this at all. She’s just a kid.” He glanced at me, breathing heavily. “You both are. If you’re having trouble dealing with what’s been happening, and you need to talk, I’m here, all right?”
That surprised me, but I didn’t have time to think about it because Margo ran faster, out of the housing estate, away from both of our homes.
“Where are we going?” Mr Harding called out after a few moments, struggling to catch his breath.
“There are some unfinished buildings nearby,” I shouted back. “Townie kids hang out this way sometimes. Maybe somebody had an accident.”
Margo barely responded to our questions of her, seemingly completely focused on finding her new destination.
Smoke filled my nostrils. Again. “I think there’s a fire.” I called Nathan, updating him on the little I knew. He would deal with the rest.
It smelled like Halloween, that unique cold and smoke scent that was so ubiquitous every October, a scent I was beginning to associate with Margo. There were too many fires, too many times smoke had filled the air. Odd how someone so cold was so connected to fire in my head.
We came upon a couple of unfinished houses in a failed estate. They had been long since abandoned, given up to the escapades of kids and teens alike, maybe even some adults, too. Byron had talked about buying them and finishing the properties for pack use, but that was something far off in our future.
“I can smell it now,” Mr Harding said, his voice trembling. He had likely never witnessed Margo in full-on death-tracking mode.
“It’s all right,” I told him. “We’re here to keep her safe.”
We closed the distance on the buildings. According to talk at school, plenty of teenagers sneakily drank in the abandoned houses. Others sheltered from the wind, rain, and cold. Their scents mingled together in a confusing mess; anything distinctive had been drowned out by the choking smell of smoke.
Margo outran me before finally coming to a stop outside the last house. In the darkness, it was hard to see, but smoke had definitely begun to spiral up and out from the back of the house, thick, black smoke that made my eyes water. A flash from a torch upstairs made my blood run cold.
“Somebody’s inside,” I warned, grabbing hold of Margo’s shoulders and guiding her towards her father.
“I’ll go in. Wait here for help.”
“I’ll be faster if I catch their scent,” I said. “Can you keep her here instead?”
“Careful then,” Mr Harding said. “Don’t risk yourself, Dorian.” He held on to his daughter, though she struggled against his touch.
“I won’t.” I made Margo look at me. “I’ve got it,” I told her. “I’ll go in and help them. You stay here. Do not go inside.”
I darted into the house. Inside the hallway was dirty and dark, but the smoke wasn’t bad yet. In the unfinished kitchen, however, a blazing fire had started on what appeared to be a pile of clothes and wood. The fire had already spread to the ceiling. I covered my face with my shirt, the thick smoke making it hard to see. There was nothing I could use to put out the fire, so I left it alone then ran upstairs.
On the landing were a couple of open doors. Those rooms were empty. I opened the last door, my heart racing as smoke began to billow at the stairs. Time was running out. Two small boys, ten or eleven at most, had huddled together by a window they were desperately trying to open.
“Leave it,” I called out. “This way. Quickly!”
The dark-haired boy ran to me, but the smaller boy shook his head, trembling. “I… I can’t.”
“You have to,” the dark-haired boy shouted back. “Come on, Danny. Hurry.”
A tear slid down Danny’s face. “I’m too scared to go down there. It’s too hot and dark.”
The other boy sighed then hurried over to his friend and took his hand. “Then I’ll stay with you.”
Both boys were already coughing, and too soon, they wouldn’t be able to breathe at all. I knelt in front of Danny then looked at his friend. “What’s your name?”
“Séan,” he said. “And I promised I’d take care of Danny, so I can’t leave him.”
“You don’t have to,” I said. “But you both need to cover your faces like this.” I showed them with my shirt. “Can you walk, Séan? If I carry your friend?”
Séan nodded, though he looked as scared as his friend.
“Danny, get up on my back, close your eyes, and I’ll carry you out of here.”
He still shook with fear, saying no, repeatedly.
