Lost

Chapter 20: Sparking a fire

*Trigger warning for violence, and physical abuse of a child*

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The sun dipped into the horizon as the evening gave way to night. Glowing purple and orange, the fluffy clouds swam past the blaring ball of fire lazily. As a distant thunder rumbled, the winds grew stronger. Hoping that she was not too late, Salma quickly capped the bottles and jumped to her feet.

In the short trip to and from the stream, the temperature had dropped so much that she felt her fingers stiffen with cold. The winds grew harsher, whipping at her clothes. Salma was barely able to keep her eyes open. Under the cover of the trees, she was scared one of them would topple over her. Once outside the canopy, she dreaded the forceful currents of air would blow her away with them. Either way, she was in trouble and she had to get back to the safety of the shelter.

A few cold drops of rain hit her face just as she reached her rock. Looking up, Salma saw dark clouds floating lazily in the sky, pelting the earth below with its watery bullets. Salma groaned as she made a beeline to the veranda.

"Thank God you are back!" Zayn exclaimed out of no where, catching her off guard. Salma turned around to see Zayn standing by the rock, a few flattened pieces of granite in his hands.

"You have to stop jumping out on me like that!" Salma cried, taming her racing heart. How did she miss taking note of his presence there?

Zayn smirked, amused by her alarm.

"Where the hell did you run off to like that?" he asked, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Stream," Salma replied shortly. Zayn bent down to pick another rock. Salma frowned in confusion but the rain had started falling more heavily so she let it be, "You better get inside. The weather is bone chilling!"

"Coming," Zayn nodded, grabbing his stick that was perched against the rock.

Salma realized she was getting later for Maghrib prayers when she noticed the reddish glow of the clouds on the horizon. Without waiting for Zayn, she hastened to her bench in the veranda to offer her prayers. During the last prostration, Salma pleaded with Allah to ease her way to get help. She asked for the rain to pause just enough to allow her to get to the road and call her family.

By the time Salma was done, it was already quite dark. She turned around to pass Zayn his bottle of water but was forced to pause midway. Salma squinted her eyes. She could make Zayn's silhouette near his room. He seemed to be down on all fours, busy with something on the floor where the wooden planks were ripped off. Not sure what he was up to, Salma hopped off the bench to see for herself.

"What are you doing?" she asked, making her way towards him cautiously.

"Oh hey! You done with your woo-doo?!" Zayn faked a cheerful expression that was gone in a flash as he turned away from her, completely ignoring her question.

He went back to doing what he was doing as if she had never interrupted him. Salma rolled her eyes at his infuriating behavior and made her way past him. However, she had barely moved two steps when she came to a sudden halt.

"What in the world. . !" Her eyes widened, running all over the place.

The small hole in the veranda floor which he once stepped in, was now replaced by a much wider hole. He was neatly lining it on the inside with rocks, cementing them together with mud. The pit looked like a very shallow well, with the layer of the rocky wall raised half a foot above the veranda floor, completely cutting the floor off from the space inside.

"No seriously Zayn, what are you doing?" she repeated, eyeing the heap of dry leaves, twigs, branches and the wooden planks he had pulled off the floor, piled close by.