Get Out If You Can

Hunter | Truth Or Flames

The floor is slippery because gasoline had been spilled on it, well in advance.

Her story's still ringing in my head. Especially the part about me. I don't remember that night at all, except for the fact that I was present – so when the police had asked if anyone remembered anything, I said no. Because I didn't. I would never have known what I'd done if she hadn't told me.

The supposed 'break' the voice – or Caitlyn – or whatever gave us, wasn't a break at all – it was used well. We're just too dumb. Or maybe the ten hours are messing with our brains, as they have been in all our time here.

"WE'RE GONNA BURN!" Matt screams, yet again. I would've joined him, but it's no use. There's more or less no way out. "HEY, WAS THERE WATER BACK IN THAT DINING ROOM?"

"HOW WOULD THAT HELP, MAY I ASK?" Diego screams back at him. "YOU THINK WATER FROM A FUCKING GLASS WILL DOUSE THIS? LOOK FOR A FUCKING WINDOW!"

"HOW ABOUT YOU DO THAT?" Alison joins the yelling match, but at least she's double-rolling. On one hand, she's screaming, and on the other, she's already run halfway up a staircase. Guess I should join her and look for an exit.

And then I see them. Four writhing bodies, bound in cloth bags, lie screaming on the floor. One of them – or, technically, all of them – are killers.

But I guess – and I know my guesses haven't always been the best ones – but I think they deserve a chance to change that.

"Hey, guys?" I call out. "What about these kids? And where's – where is she?"

"She's here. And she's going to get us out of here."

I turn around – and when I do, my brain goes blank.

Emilie's got her arm around Caitlyn's neck.

And she's holding a gun to her head.

***

Everyone stares warily at Emilie, no one saying a word. Alison's still on the first landing, but she's not moving.

"Are you gonna kill her?" I ask, hoping otherwise. She doesn't deserve to die – not like this. No one does. If it's any help to anyone, I understand her. I get how she feels. I've never lost a sibling, but I think I have an idea what it must feel like to lose someone close to you. For no reason at all.

"WHY'S THIS ON ME?" Caitlyn yells. The finger Emilie's kept on the trigger's trembling; I just hope she doesn't shoot without warning.

"WHY'S THIS NOT ON HER? SHE DID IT! I'M READY TO DIE, BUT TAKE HER WITH ME!" Caitlyn points at Lana's frame.

A sudden idea pops into my head. I know this is not the time, and the heat's getting really bad – the flames lick the sides of the room – but it's now or never. If I can help get us out of here, I will. If I can help making everyone's last moments here count, I will.

"Lana," I say, bending double so I can see her face, "I need you to be quick, okay? Why did you do whatever you did?"

"Thank you for asking," Lana croaks through the cloth bound around her mouth. She's got the voice of someone who's been crying for a long time. "Dad," she says. "It was horrible. Home was horrible. It was always 'Lana this' and 'Lana that', and 'get these grades, Lana', 'look good today, Lana', 'Derek's good for you, Lana' – I couldn't," she says. "I couldn't. I got my stash from a dealer and sold it around. I needed the money – I needed to – I needed to leave. And then –"

She breaks out into wilder tears.

"Lana, we need you to be quick," Diego says, crouching down next to me. "We do. What happened next?"