Fake Me To Church

Chapter 14.3 - Lake of Fire

- AHMED -

It was cold outside, the frigid and unforgiving breeze whipping against my face while I hugged my body with both arms. I noted a light throbbing behind my eyes as I glanced to the right, where Steven was talking to a fireman dressed in a brown uniform streaked with neon reflectors.

"Sure is one heck of a night you boys've had," I heard the man say to Steven.

I turned back to the apartment, sniffed some of the smoke as it escaped through the front door. A set of four more firemen stood on the sidewalk, spraying pressurized water inside to douse the remainder of the flames.

"I'm just glad you guys made it here when you did," I faintly heard Steven's reply. "How'd you even find us?"

"A lady called it in, said she was driving by and saw a fire break out."

Wait. I swiveled my head back to Steven, walked over to him and the fireman.

"You good, kid?" the man asked me.

"What? Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Thanks."

He nodded.

"Who was she?" I asked. "The lady who called."

"Name was...Charity, I think? Very nice lady. Said she was on her way to pray when she saw everything."

On her way to pray? This late?

I thanked the man, then shoved my hands in my front pockets and inhaled icy air. The fireman gave another nod, then headed to help the others blast away the rest of the flames.

"I still have 'em," Steven whispered to me. "The photos." He fished a set of soggy pages out of his pocket. "The file's ruined, but the pics are still pretty good."

I exhaled, exhausted. "Nice job."

Steven looked pretty beat, and I figured I must have too. I was about to give a long sigh when a pair of bright white headlights shone through the darkness, landing directly on me.

I squinted under the glinting rays.

"Who's that?" Steven mumbled, shielding his eyes with his left hand.

"It looks like...like James." I released a fearful breath.

The car parked haphazardly, straddling the yellow line drawn between two spaces. The door swung open in seconds, and James stood to his full height. "Ahmed!" he called. He ran over to me, Katherine following behind after exiting the passenger's seat.

"Ahmed, where have you been!?" Katherine was demanding. "I can't believe this! We've been so w—!"

"Katherine," James whispered, placing a hand softly on her shoulder. "Give him a minute, honey." His gaze rose to the seared apartment behind me, and he shook his head. "From the looks of it, he's been through a lot."

"You guys..." I began. "Look, I—I know I should have said something, but I just..." I glanced at Steven, who quickly bowed his head and took several steps back.

Katherine folded her arms across her chest. "Do you have any idea what we've been through? I've been on the phone all night trying to find you—Principal Turner, Landon Rhymes, Myra Gravestepper...even your father." She pointed a finger at Steven. "I guess it was just luck that Ms. Vaughn-Daley happened to recognize your car."

I lowered my eyes. "She—she called you guys too?"

"Well, of course she did! Why wouldn't she call us!?"

"Katherine, please," James mused in her ear as he tried to rub her shoulder.

She pulled away.

James turned to me, sighed. "Bud...what were you thinking?"