Izoven: Inferno

Chapter 1

Growth is not a straight path.

The roads are sometimes wide and intimidating; at other times, they seem impossibly narrow. Yet, we strive to move forward. We go on. We must.

It's not uncommon to come upon broken bridges, where now and then are too far apart. Where we cannot take the next step. It's then we must turn back in hopes of finding another way. 

Still, we go on. We must. 

Through smoldering sun or dark acres that make us lose our way, we move onwards, for this is our nature. Albeit slowly, or quickly, we go on. We must. 

No, growth is not a straight path. It is not easy; it is not simple. More than anything, however, it is not stable. For there is nothing truer or more permanent on this earth—or the next—than change. 

Emery Wright faced the decaying clump of wood that was once called Grandpa Joey's House. The seasons had not been kind to it. Wind, snow, and rain had torn at its walls since its owner perished years ago. The floor was rotted and soft. There was a gaping hole over the room where she once slept. 

It was anything but a home. This heaping pile of nails, bark, and broken glass was in no way livable. 

Yet, Emery was sure. Scratch that . . . She was absolutely sure that this house was the next step in her journey. 

A chilling breeze blew past, making Emery hug her jacket tighter. The wind brought on an orange and yellow rain. The autumn leaves blew in through the yawning entrance to her grandfather's home. 

"It's been an hour," Emery complained, watching as her breath formed light, effervescent clouds in the early morning air. "Shouldn't he be done by now?" 

Lila, relaxing against her squad car, spared her a side glance before blowing out a huff of cigarette smoke. She pointed the stick of tobacco toward the house as she responded, "There he is now." 

Gerald, Bellenau's most esteemed contractor—also Bellenau's only contractor—ducked under a collapsed doorframe while he jotted down something in a yellow notepad. As he approached Emery, he placed the pencil behind his ear and ripped the page out. 

"Well, it's a mess . . ." was the first thing he said. 

Emery tried hard not to roll her eyes and instead settled for a sigh. "I know that, but is it fixable?"

Gerald pursed his lips and took one more look at Grandpa Joey's legacy before clicking his tongue in disappointment. "Look, I'm gonna be real honest here. It'd be easier on your pocket and my time if you look into buying another house."

"I want this house," Emery insisted.

The contractor rubbed a stubby finger against the side of his greasy forehead. "I hear there'll be more and more people moving into town this year. Might be best to consider purchasing before they raise the prices. Maybe renting a place would be—"

"How much are the repairs?"

He bobbed his head to the side in understanding and handed her the yellow slip of paper. 

Her eyes scanned the quote, filled top to bottom with everything in need of fixing. "Replace flooring. Replace roof. Fix windows. Entryways. Restore plumbing. Repair wiring." The list went on. At the end of it, circled three times, was the number:

"15,000 dollars?" Emery gaped, sounding like she'd just been punched in the throat. Lila sneaked into her view, pinching the top edge of the paper as she studied it as well. 

"As a rough estimate. It might be a bit more once we really get in there."

"How much is a bit more?" Lila asked.