The Stranger In the Fire
Tongues of fire licked up around the tall elms, blackened leaves drifted slowly to the ground, buffeted by gusts of hot wind. Somewhere farther out, a tree cracked straight down the middle and crashed to the ground, red and orange sparks and embers flying up around it. An animal wailed somewhere, an animal that had been unable to escape the hungry flames.
Through the less damaged trees a horde of other animals raced, animals that would have preyed on each other if the circumstances had been different.
Under a blackened rock, something soot covered and seemingly only half alive crouched. It was a boy. He was no older than ten, and his almost-green eyes were stretched wide in terror.
“Help!” He called, and his yell ended in an awful choking sound as he swallowed more smoke and ash. He knew without a doubt though that there was no-one to hear his calls, he was completely alone.
Slowly, supporting himself on the rock, he staggered to his feet, and was blasted with a gust of hot, reeking wind. His face was soot-covered, and his air looked black and curled more than ever from the nearby flames. He staggered backwards, then took a determined step forward. He wouldn't let himself be killed in the smothering heat, he had never imagined his life would end this way.
Where had his brothers gone? They had been with him the moment before. He hoped they weren't trapped in the flames like he was. He stumbled forward, yelping as burning bark scorched his neck. He half fell forward and ran for a short distance, but his smoke scarred lungs didn't seem able to hold enough air.
He crouched back down, shivering despite the heat of the flames. Tears were running down his face by this time. It was a huge effort to haul himself back up to his feet. He turned in a frantic circle, seeking a direction that was not covered in swirling smoke.
Something furry brushed against his ankle, and in his terror he nearly screamed. He looked down in amazement to see a rabbit streaking through the burning forest, followed by a fox and several does. They charged past him with wide eyes, completely terror stricken. Hope flared in him and he raced after them, stumbling to keep up, maybe they knew where they were going! He heard an ominous crack overhead, and glanced up just as the crown of huge tree burst into scarlet flames. A branch crashed down directly ahead of him, separating him from the fleeing animals.
“HELP!” He screamed, and collapsed again, coughing. Tears streamed down his face in earnest, form the pain in the burned patches of skin, to the knowledge that he would die here.
He got to his feet, determination surging through him. One last effort, just one. He began to run, straight into a thick wall of fog. It burned his eyes and nose and he imagined it even going down his ears, and before long he had to take a huge gulping breath of air. He sucked down smoke, and his stride faltered. His blurring eyes saw nothing but flame and gray fog.
He slowed to a halt in front of another rock, dizzily wondering if it was the same one he had sheltered in before. He looked back to see a wall of fire advancing on him, and was certain he had no strength left to run from it. Tiredly he sank down against the other side, hardly noticing the heat emanating from the rock. He closed his eyes.
“Get up!” A voice commanded. When the boy opened his eyes, tears squeezed out from the corners as more smoke choked his vision. “Wha-” He began, but broke off in another bout of ragged coughing. Strong arms gripped his shoulders, and someone forced him up. He weakly tried to protest and his legs tried to buckle, but the stranger held him up. He was dragged forward several steps, to where the air was slightly clearer. The boy looked up. His mouth hung open in shock, for a moment he had thought he was looking at himself. But this man was older and his face was more mature, even though he couldn't have been out of his teens yet. But he had the same green eyes, the very same ones that the boy saw in the mirror everyday. He shook his head tiredly, the smoke must be confusing him.
“Come on,” The stranger commanded, the boy groaned in response. “Do you want to live or don't you?” He didn't seem to even have the strength to nod. Then he imagined his family, his mother and his father and his brothers. He knew how devastated they would be if he died. He did not want any of them to go through the pain of him dying, for he knew it would cause them pain.
Perhaps he found strength in that; but whatever it was, he found himself walking forward. The other boy had put his arm around his shoulder and was holding him up, letting him lean on him. “Almost there,” the stranger said, and there was an edge of a cough in even his strong voice.
The heat became less intense, and when he tried to focus his blurring vision on the trees around him, he saw only smoke; no fire. A gust of wind snaked through the trees, and the air it carried him to smelled, looked and felt fresher than he had ever thought possible.
He stumbled forward, and left the smoke behind. Yellow firemen were swarming around with thick hoses, water spurting from them sporadically. One of them gave a shout and ran towards him, and the boy turned slowly to thank the man that had helped him.
But he was gone.
- I wrote this a little while ago as a Christmas present for my best friend's little brother.
