Blackbird

Tate |Chapter 11

THE LIGHT FIXTURE SPARKED before shorting out, dropping from the ceiling. I'd never seen fire drip the way it rained down from the roof, transforming the seat cushions underneath into beds of flame.

I lunged for the door handle before screaming. A million bees stung my hand. The burn it unleashed caused me to buckle. The skin refused to bend, close, or make a fist. My heart pounded as I shook off the pain. Dragging a chair across the room, I launched it at one of two windows. The chair broke first, splintering into fragments, only further fueling the fire around it.

It crackled in the silence. My arms slumped to my side. Derek's face flashed before me in my mind's eye, sneering behind his poorly crafted mask of hatred. They left me here to die.

After all of our altercations over this year, tonight was when our paths finally collided. Neither of us would have been here if I could have taken a joke. I wouldn't be standing alone now if I had just told Alex the truth as soon as I'd learned it. Fate was working, as I'd suspected earlier, but against me, not with me.

Would it always be the same?

The heat closed around me like four oppressive walls. I backed toward a table, my gaze traveling every inch of the room for another idea but drew a blank. Across from me, open-house pamphlets on a shelf buckled, shrinking in on themselves, turning to soot that then flew in crazed circles in the air.

There became little that wasn't already ablaze.

My throat tickled, morphing into a constant cough. Without warning, I was flung into an unwanted memory of family campfires on the beach. Identical soot-blackened paper rose in a funnel about the heart of the flames. I'd watch it dance for hours. Now, my entire being yearned to be as far away as possible.

I can't die like this.

I reached into my pocket for my cell phone. A row of cells refused to load because the cell service had plummeted—no reception in the desert, Tate, you fool. Turning in a circle, I tried to single out at least one bar, it would be all I needed, but it became pointless. My room to maneuver enclosed faster than I could think.

There was a sudden woof sound as the curtains around the cabin disintegrated.

Dad won't survive this if I go too.

Panic mixed with adrenaline flooded my veins, and I knew I could be out of the door within three strides if I could just break the damn door down. I shimmied off my jacket, carefully slid it over my hand, double wrapping it around my good one, and reached for the door handle again.

My knees trembled as I stepped forward toward the door. A shift in motion beneath my legs caused me to stumble. Another tremor rumbled through the cabin; the wooden floorboards buckled inwards with a loud boom.

The floor shook. A second boom followed; the timber creaked and groaned as it contracted. I steadied myself, barely catching my balance before plunging forward to my knees. I froze in place and clung to a set of chair legs for support.

The structure is about to collapse. "Help!" I called, but I would never know who to. The instinct to survive kicked in, and my body took over. I scrambled to hide as fast I could, almost certain that death was upon me.

The air was thick with burning plastic, my lungs desperate for a breath, until finally the last one came, labored and wheezing. My only thought was of Alex; the piercing realization that this was it brought a wave of terror so strong that my entire world froze in horror. Face pressed against the floorboards, I inhaled sharply and pulled in a last, reedy breath.

Time seemed to stand still as I lay there, alone. I felt the urge to combust so that nothing else could be burned. Each rapid knock was a hint that something beyond my control was pushing me closer and closer to breaking—a signal that the structural girders were tinkering on a breaking point. No matter how hard it tried, it would never find my point of weakness.

Flames licked up the walls, sweeping across the ceiling. I crammed myself further into the only corner left. Then it sounded again. Knock after knock, this time accompanied by a flash of Alex's face through the only panes of glass I had yet to shatter.

I sat straighter, sudden relief overcoming me in one biblically sized wave. I opened my mouth to speak, but my lungs willed it to close. Tight and raw, nothing but an audible moan passed my lips. Remaining sheltered, I didn't see a way out for me or, in turn, for him to make it inside safely.

Desperate to still get his attention, my hands thrashed in the air until his eyes connected with mine. At that moment, he owned me, and I wanted to wipe the look of sheer panic away from his wide eyes. Alex's gaze bypassed mine to the room inside. He scanned, and then, much as he first appeared, Alex retracted back into the darkness again; shadows stealing a place over his face.

Alex, don't go.

A louder knock came until the front wall collapsed in a mass of burning timber. Dad charged with a blanket over his head in the gaping black hole it left behind. An initial look of confusion masked his face until he saw me. The smile he gifted me next evaporated any lack of love that had come before it.

Hulking arms hauled me to my feet and began dragging. All I could feel was the rough calluses of his palms scratching against my skin. As I stumbled forward with him, we moved deeper into the center fire. He threw his blanket over me. The air around us grew thicker, and the air grew colder as we neared the hole in the cabin wall. The next few moments took the longest. I needed to breathe—breathe so bad.

When I saw Orion, followed by his buddy Taurus, I finally relaxed. Dropping onto the dirt floor, Dad stood over me, his broad figure blocking out the stars above.

"When I said never mind, I'd said I loved you. Damn it, Tate."

I stared up at my father, his face unreadable in the flickering firelight. I knew I should say something, anything to ease the tension in the air, but my mind was blank, struggling to make sense of his words.

Dad's voice broke through the silence again. "You scared the hell out of me, Tate. I thought I'd lost you."

I swallowed hard, my throat raw from the smoke. "I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to..."

He cut me off with a wave of his hand.

I sat up slowly, still feeling dizzy from the smoke inhalation. The blanket slipped from my shoulders, and the chill of the night air seeped into my bones. A hand clasped mine—Alex's. Everything that had run through my mind wanted out of my mouth at the same time. Dad seemed to sense it, taking a step back so Alex could shuffle nearer.

If I could have taken a joke. If I had told him the truth as soon as I'd learned it, he wouldn't look as pained as he did now. If was the biggest, smallest word. It had the potential to move mountains and reunite families, but without hindsight, it became just a word.

"What if I can't change, Alex?"

Alex's tears glinted in the moonlight. A grin lit up his face. "Tate, you already have. You changed both our narratives," he replied.

The cool breeze brushed against my face, sending shivers down my spine. Alex was right, I had changed, but it was because of him that I had.

Looking up at Alex, I felt a warmth in my chest. "Alex, I owe you everything," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "What I mean to say is..."

Alex's grin widened. "I like you too, Tate," he replied, pulling me into a tight embrace.

As we sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, I knew that I would do anything to protect Alex. I would change even more, become a better man, just to make him happy.