Eight Minutes

Four minutes left: Clyde

I help Remi climb down, her hand cut from the glass stopwatch but not bleeding. She'll live. Actually no she won't but that's a different issue.

"So," I say, as lightly as I can manage, "do you have anything you want to do?"

Remi lands on her feet, straightens and stares at me. I can see her thinking.

"Well, that is what this eight minutes is for," I continue, "not smashing up the alarms and complaining."

"Actually yeah." She says, sounding almost surprised at herself. "Can you come?" She asks, biting her lip.

I take a deep breath and nod, knowing how much this means to her. I think I know where she's going.

We only have three minutes and forty seconds left so we walk at quite a fast pace. The streets are empty but I can hear sad, scared sounds coming from inside the houses. Remi hears them too and takes my hand, squeezing it in hers.

We don't have time to stop. We don't have time. I will never see my parents again but that's okay. It's okay. I swallow the lump in my throat.

Come on Clyde. Do this for Remi.

I place one hand over my eyes and pause for a second.

"Clyde?" Remi asks, softly, worry in her voice.

I don't speak, I can't risk it. Instead, I nod, indicating that I'm fine, keep going. I'll catch up.

She inhales through her nose then gulps, "I'm staying here, we can go back if you want."

I take a shaky breath, "No, no let's go."

She nods, hugging me and resting her head on my shoulder.

"Let's go." I smile, sadly.

We sprint off, our feet slapping off the concrete. The air is still, un disturbed by the events. That can't be said for everything else. Lights are on in all the houses, alarms beeping, counting down, the steady rhythm making me nervous. They remind me that we don't have much time left, that we have to hurry.

After what feels like an hour but also like only seconds we reach our destination.

It's a house like all the others on the street. Terraced, three steps up to the door. For Remi, this house will always be different. This was her house.

She seems to have forgotten about everything, about me about the alarms. She sniffs quietly and quickly makes her way into the house, looking about her as if she's never seen this place before.

I follow her, trying to make as little noise as possible. This house has been empty for so many years now. Nobody ever lived in it after Remi and her parents.

Her steps have become more urgent, rattling the door and eventually kicking it down, splinters flying everywhere. She runs inside and climbs the stairs three at a time. I follow her into her old bedroom. She is clawing at the carpet, trying to find a spot that isn't attached to the floor. I kneel down and scratch at the carpet, finding a spot at the edge that is curling up the wall.

"Remi, is this what you're looking for?" I ask, signalling to her.

She nods and as soon as she sees it begins ripping at the carpet. I step into the hallway, not sure if I would be helpful or not.

She is getting out of breath, sweat and tears dripping down her face as she rips up chunks of the carpet. Finally she stops, slowly reaching out her hand and picking up a small, folded piece of paper. She opens it, not moving apart from her hands.

Her eyes flick across the yellowed paper, reading the words written on it. When she reaches the end she drops the note, a silent scream etched on her ashen face.