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A piercing scream erupted, racing up and down the long halls of the manor like a lightning bolt. Frost and I broke apart instantly, but his hands tightened on my hip and shoulder reflexively as we locked eyes. The scream repeated and was joined by another, both from a distant corner of the house, but discernable by their sheer pitch and volume. I immediately broke out of his grasp and stood, kicking off my heeled shoes as I ran to the door. Frost dashed around me like a bullet from a gun.
Frost threw open the door and we stopped in the hallway as if turned to stone. Everything looked perfectly normal, but there was a strange stench in the air, something wicked andwrongthat did not belong in that house. Frost’s face seemed to change immediately, molding into a strange mix of panic, horror, and fury. “Gasoline,” he whispered, breaking into a run.
My mind raced as I sprinted after him down the hall. For a fraction of second I wondered why there was gasoline, but the question almost immediately was crushed by the weight of those screams. Trina and Maddi.
At the corner by the staircase, I slammed into Mrs. Frost and we scarcely caught each other before falling over. She recovered immediately and in my arms spun to look behind her down the hall as a piercing scream erupted around us. Her eyes were wild, like a deer in headlights, panicking and flitting every direction. I grabbed her arm sharply and jerked her to face me. “Mrs. Frost,” I said firmly. “I’m sorry, but you need to tell us what’s going on.”
“A fi-fire…” she mumbled, struggling to extricate herself from my grasp. I tightened my hands around her wrists, trying to hold her eyes as she finished. “A fi-fire in the…the attic. I took out the trash and saw the glow in the windows.”
The air was beginning to thicken and there was athudon the stairs. Ryan slid down the steps and landed not far above us, nearly unconscious. Frost hurried to him and dragged him off the stairs, checking his vitals in a matter of seconds. “Just the smoke,” he said, his speech clipped.
I looked to Mrs. Frost, hating myself for having to be so harsh. “You need to take Ryan and get outside. Do you understand?” I told her quickly.
She shook her head violently, trying to pull away from my grasp. I tightened my grip on her arm as she muttered, “No…Jerry…the girls…”
“Mrs. Frost,” I repeated, willing her to listen to me by the tone in my voice and my hand on her arm. “If you don’t get Ryan out, he will die. Frost and I will save the others. You need to go.”
Mrs. Frost stared at me, horror-stricken for a long, silent moment. Finally, Frost snapped at her, “Mom! Go!”
She broke out of her reverie and nodded nearly imperceptibly, then took Ryan from Frost’s arms, draping his arm over her shoulder and struggling to drag him at her side. Before she left, she paused to look at Frost briefly, then stared at me. “Get my family out,” she begged.
I nodded my promise, at the same time knowing, deep in the pit of my stomach, that I was lying to her. “I will.”
With nothing more, Mrs. Frost hurried down the hall towards the staircase while Frost and I ran in the opposite direction, up the stairwell and into the inferno.
Smoke filled the narrow hallways of the third floor, smothering our lungs and constraining our eyesight to only a few feet. Hellish orange flames licked down the walls and carpet towards us, fueled by gasoline and momentum. Precious works of art burned on the walls and furniture fell to the fire’s cruel might. Frost gave a hard look around, then turned down the hall. “This way.”
I followed him down the winding corridor, staying towards the center to avoid the worst of the heat in the inferno. Before long, I was crouching, my eyes burning, and I wished I was wearing sleeves that I could breathe through to avoid the smoke. When we began to near the attic stairs, I started hearing the creaking. Not slowing or stopping, I looked warily at the engulfed walls and ceiling. “Frost, this is going to fall in.”
“I know. We can’t stop.” He continued with the same speed, but looked at me. In the eerie lighting, I saw the fire and my own face reflected in his eyes. Then, with a jolt, he looked away. “Go back, Poe.”
“What?”
“You heard me!” he shouted. “Get out of here! I don’t want you up here! I’ll find them myself.”
I gave him a look of disbelief. “You think I’m scared? You think I need your permission to go? I’m finding them, Frost. I’m staying with you.”
A brief look of anguish crossed his face, then we reached the stairs. The interval between when we were on the couch together and when we reached the attic stairs must have been less than two minutes, but it felt like a lifetime. Just at the bottom, we both stopped and looked up in awe and shock.
The stairs themselves wereburning. Literally, the banisters, the wood supports, the carpet…all enflamed. At the top, I could see the attic door still primarily intact, though it was also on fire. The wood pane shuddered and a scream I would never forget pierced my ears like an ice pick.
I shook my head in utter horror, tears in my eyes. “Oh God…Frost...Frost, we can’t….”
Frost spun and turned to a marble bust displayed along the burning wall. When adrenaline courses through someone’s veins, they eventually reach a stage of resistance where they can do things that would normally be impossible. I saw Frost’s jaw tighten as he lifted what must have been a three hundred pound sculpture, then he nodded towards the stairs. “I’m breaking down that door.”
I shook my head, struggling with whether to help him or try to drag him back out of the house. I knew I would be useless either way.
With nothing more, he started up, slowly, shakily with the sculpture. I watched for a second in awe, recalling all the days I had gone to school covered in bruises and worse and how Mrs. Aaron had once told me I was brave. That was nothing at all, child’s play compared to what I saw Frost do that night. He carried the sculpture up the stairs, the flames licking at his jeans, eating away at his shoes, and didn’t slow or stop until he reached the top.
I tried to follow him, panic and anxiety coursing through my veins. But my feet and legs were bare and the flames kept me from making it higher than the third stair from the bottom. As I watched, Frost drew the sculpture back, then hurtled towards the door, using it as a battering ram. The wood pane shuddered and cracked, but it was high quality wood and only part of the door was punched through by the bust’s head. The statue dropped to the floor as Frost rushed forward. The screams were enough to very nearly implode my eardrums. I braved the flames to climb one more step and what I saw shattered me, my mouth falling open in grief.
A tiny hand with a silver charm bracelet displaying a pewter ballerina reached through the door. It was red and black and the skin was peeling grotesquely. In that moment I realized that I had been right in my conviction earlier as I’d promised Mrs. Frost I would get her family out. We had come here, ran all this way, willfully set ourselves on fire…all for nothing. Nothing but closure.
Frost took his baby sister’s burning hand in his grasp, one hand curling around hers, the other wrapping around her wrist, and sobbed openly, whispering between to Trina, “It’ll be okay, sweetie. It’ll be over soon.” As I watched, Trina’s convulsing arm slowly stopped twitching, then went limp. With that, I knew the flames didn’t hurt her anymore. Nothing would hurt her again. I shook my head in awed grief and pity, trying without avail to think of a more awful picture. That image, that image paired with Trina’s scream, would haunt my dreams until I died.
Then I heard the groaning in the ceiling above us.
The adrenaline rushed through me again as I recalled my reaction when I had realized my family was dead and not coming back. I could not count on Frost wanting to get out on his own. I forsook any sense of self-preservation and launched myself up the stairs, grimacing as the flames seared my skin. I gripped Frost’s shoulder and shook him. “Frost, I’m so sorry. There’s nothing we can do. We have to get out.” No response. “Dammit, Frost, there’s nothing we can do!Move, now!”
