Our Fatal Flaws

Chapter 13: Into The Fire

Lucy Pov:

Realisation washed over me like a huge wave crashing onto the sand and dragging it back out towards the sea. Only that metaphor wouldn't really work, due to the fact that I didn't have anything for the sand to be.

I tried to steady myself: grabbing my rapier, and pulling it out in front of me. I must have looked pretty pathetic, my hands were trembling and the burn couldn't have escaped her glare. All things considered, I was in pretty bad shape for a full-on battle.

Angeline smiled eerily, lifting what looked to be a gun, and pointing it at me, causing my brain to go into overdrive. My instincts ran wild, my head screaming at me to run or hide. Instead I stood there, with the last of my dignity, trying not to bleed on my jacket.

"Where'd you get a gun? This is London we live in."

She looked unimpressed.

"Sweetheart, with the right connections, anything you want can be brought to you. Your every desire at your fingertips."

Cocking the gun, she grinned.

"Take your precious Lockwood for example, he left easily when he heard about that poor woman's ghost-infested building. All for the money, really what were you thinking? Letting him run off like that."

My jaw hardened when she mentioned Lockwood. I felt the rage bubbling up inside of me, ready to overflow, most likely out my mouth, but I restrained myself. I was always taught to be careful in any situation that involved a gun.

"That was your doing? The case he got?"

I should have thought that it was strange, out of all the agencies, we most likely had the worst track record of accidentally-on purpose setting clients' homes on fire. Why would anyone that prestigious want us? My eyes darted around, looking for anything I could use to my advantage; Nothing piqued my immediate interest. She had set this whole thing up very well. Credit where credit is due. The smoke from the fire was stifling, making it hard to think clearly and I could feel my vision getting a little hazy.

"Keep your attention on me Miss Carlyle. Or should I call you Lucy? I want to see your pitiful face as you die. But before you do, I want you to hear something."

She was beginning to get to me: I could feel dread shooting through my body like an electric shock. I wasn't sure I wanted to die just yet, not without saying goodbye to everyone. Not without having another morning with George and Lockwood at Portland Row. Not without being in Lockwood's arms one last ti-

I shook my head to get rid of the preposterous thought. I really need to have a better last wish. 

Begrudgingly, I met her eyes again.

"Good." She said, her intentions crystal clear, just by the way her voice sounded. "My uncle was a vile man, I knew that of course, but he made money. Since his death, I have been left in charge of the company, which I am handling as well as one can."

"So not very well then?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't be smart with me. It is true, Fairfax Iron is not as great as it once was. That is a problem Lucy. Our investors are pulling out. Do you know what that means?"

I blink. "Yes"

"It means bad business. It is out of the public view for now, but the company may be going bankrupt if we don't do something about it soon."

"So are you killing us for revenge or..."

She rolled her eyes. "Revenge is mere child's play. Killing you comes with its benefits, the revenge is just the cherry on top."

"What benefits are you talking about?"

She giggles. "You don't understand the game at all, do you Lucy dear?"

She was avoiding the question. There were benefits to killing us. The information tugged on my mind. Who did it benefit?

"I'm not going to stand here and explain it to you, just know your death will profit me wonderfully" The spite in her voice made me want to cringe into a hole.

Suddenly, I was made aware of just how close the fire had gotten. Flames were reaching out and missing me by an inch. Heat beat down on my back, waiting for me to cave. Sweat mixed with blood, and stung when it made contact with my wounds. My eyes locked onto a section of the room that was yet to be engulfed by the inferno. The door was too far to get without being pelted by gunfire, so this seemed like a safe option. I could make it, if I could could get through one minor blockage.

That blockage being more fire.

It was only a yard or so, and it seemed better than waiting for a bullet to bury into my chest.

"Is that a Wraith behind you?" I asked nonchalantly.

"What?!" She turned her head, lowering her guard for a split second. It was all I needed.

Wrapping my jacket around my face, I barreled across the blazing wall, ignoring the intense pain that seared through my whole body. My body stopped responding, and I collapsed to my knees, momentum still keeping me going. I rolled across the floor for a few feet, before stopping in a burnt and exhausted heap.

"Note to self. Running through fire is a bad idea" I muttered breathlessly to myself.

Lifting my hands, I inspected the damage. Thankfully, the burns couldn't have been too bad. 2nd degree at most. My hair was also relatively fine. Save for a few singed ends.

I tried to sit up but my bones groaned in protest. I laid back down. I guess I can rest for a little bit.

Several desperate gunshots sounded. Nevermind. My feet acted before my brain could think and I found myself shuffling over to the nearest wall. I lay low, running on pure adrenaline, biding my time to do something. I wasn't really sure what. I heard an angry cry and thudding footsteps. A door opening and closing. Am I alone?

I didn't have too much time to dwell on that, as the flames were creeping ever closer. Moving backwards, my brain hit something hard and metal. I turned around to get a good look at it. The pipes. It was a good many metres tall, but it connected with the metal beams across the ceiling. I inspected it further and found that it had small rungs on the side of it which seemed to be in decent condition. Without thinking, I gripped the rung and hauled myself up, trying to keep my balance as best I could. The pain in my hands begged me to stop but I simply ignored it and grabbed the next rung. 

As I climbed, the fire began to close in even more and eventually the whole bottom of the pipe was consumed by the blaze. Going up probably wasn't the most logical choice, but I didn't have time for logic. George might have disagreed with that actually. The higher I got, the more smoke there was, and my senses were having a hard time keeping up. I could feel my grip slipping, but I quickly pulled myself flush against the pole, holding on for dear life, so I wouldn't fall.

I eventually reached the top and half crawled, and half clung to the beam at the top. I lay flat on my back, gasping for air that wasn't available, my lungs felt ready to give up, and the black smog was making it difficult to tell if I was hallucinating or not. Was there really a lantern up there? I managed to pull myself towards the edge, and looked over it. I understood why Angeline left.

The desk was mere kindling for the fiery beast. The whole floor below was swathed in a deadly orange glow, eating everything in its path, and roaring powerfully. Bits of scrap metal were beginning to turn red-hot from the touch of the inferno, and they hissed whenever they came into contact with air.

The whole place had turned into a furnace. I was trapped. Damn it.

Before I surrendered myself to becoming a crispy steak, a familiar voice broke me out of my daze.

"Luce! Where are you!?"

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