The Lady's Game (Completed)

24 - The Friendly Traitor

Chapter 24 - The Friendly Traitor

I managed to whip my eyes away from the horrific scene and I squeeze my eyes shut. The sound of my breathing echoes in my mind and I exhale sharply, forcing down the current of emotions inside of me.

This isn't the time. Get out.

I become aware of the smell of smoke and burning wood around me. I turn and realise the walls around me are starting to crumble and shrivel; black smoke escaping through every pore in the wood. Without thinking, I dash out of the room, only to run right into a thick haze of smoke. I cough and splutter, covering my face and running out of there. My feet lead me to the large wooden door, but as I yank the handles open, I realise they're locked from the outside.

Shit.

I spin around and run to the nearest window, shattering the glass and pulling out the largest shreds of glass before pulling myself over. I see flames to both my sides and the drop is too far - I could never make it. Without hesitation, I twist and climb the wall, using a wobbly pipe to haul myself from window to window. A few times, my foot puts pressure on a burning plank and I nearly lose my grip, swinging dangerously before regaining my balance. Heat sears my legs and I feel burn marks forming on my skin. My nails chip and grate against the wood as I grab for a grip but I continue to desperately climb upwards.

My hands finally grab the top of the flat roof and my knuckles whiten with the effort to haul myself over.

Suddenly, the wood under my hand falls away and I cry out as I'm left hanging on one hand, my feet having lost their step on the window sill. I cry out again and throw my hand over, trying to gain leverage with my elbow. Glancing below, I see flames rising from the window below me and the heat stings my feet. My chest constricts and a desperate tear escapes me. My hands slowly slide down and the sweat trickling down my forehead and hands stop me from regaining my grip.

I gasp as my hands slide down a notch more, bringing my feet closer to the fire. Smoke bellows out in the wind and fills my hair and my clothes and I shut  my eyes against the string of it. Dry smoke parches my tongue and blocks my throat, making me gasp for air. Just as I turn my face away and expect to feel my body falling into the fire, strong hands grasp mine and haul me over the roof effortlessly. I roll over, spluttering and coughing dryly, my throat raw and sensitive. Tears fill my eyes and I blink against the sting, wiping them with my hands before I look up to see who helped me up.

Eddie.

I gasp and shuffle back on my hands, my breath still coming out in wheezy gasps. Eddie is crouched down, watching me expressionlessly.

Anger simmers to the tip of my tongue and I'm about to lash out at him before I hold my tongue.

Something's not right.

I watch him and he watches me. Neither of us move. His bright eyes watch me - steady, calm, impassive. My eyes watch him - angry, confused, uncertain.