Fire and Stardust

Chapter II

Ellis quickly packs up a bag as I look to see how far the fire's spread. The smoke is already bad enough that I can't see clearly, but I can make out flames nearly reaching the guest room door.

"Shit," I curse. "Whatever you've got packed is enough. We have to go."

His eyes seem brighter as he slings his duffel bag over his shoulder. I take off towards our exit. The smoke detectors have long been going off at this point, making it difficult to hear the sounds of him following past the wails, but his heavy footfalls sound over the alarm.

Just as I throw open the guest room door, the ceiling gives a groan, threatening to collapse. I race to the window, discarding the gasoline tank in the grass below, and scramble onto the wooden beam of the swing set I used earlier. I hold out my hands and gesture for him to take them.

He climbs to the edge of the window sill, duffel still slung over his shoulder, looking to me. "My parents?" he asks softly, a cough passing through his lips.

I shake my head. The would've had to exit upstairs, but the upper level was the first to catch. They're most likely trapped downstairs right now. 

With that, he hastily takes my hands and I help him onto the beam. He wobbles, barely maintaining his balance, as the old, rotted wood shifts under our feet. Before I even have the chance to curse, the beam collapses and we both hit the ground hard.

I take the brunt of the fall with my right knee and wrist—those hit the grass. But my head unfortunately smacks against the swing below me before it also reaches the ground. I'm momentarily disoriented; the world feels like it's spinning. Unable to get my bearings, I roll onto my back and lie still.

Stars splash across the sky above me. The sky itself is a striking navy blue, accentuated by golden stripes of celestial patterns. Even though the sight swims in my eyes, it calms the longer I stare. The stitch in my side evens out and I can breathe freely again.

I hear a groan and stardust invades my vision. "Shit. Are you okay?"

Blinking, I strain the sore muscles on my right side. My knee straightens with an audible pop and my wrist aches, a splotch of red indicating a forming bruise. All in all, minor injuries.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I stand on my own despite his extended hand. Once I'm upright, I brush dirt and embers off of my black jeans and zip-up.

He releases a sharp inhale, his gaze locked on his house.

Bright flames pour out from the windows, the base of the house entirely engulfed; even now, the fire licks farther up the siding, running up strips of gentle blue paint. The roof collapses that moment with a thunderous crash, sending plumes of smoke rising into the air.

"It's... it's gone," he murmurs.

I gauge his expression. There's panic and pain in his face—which is to be expected—but there's also relief. When he looks at me, there's a bitter smile on his lips.

The moment is fleeting; only a few seconds pass by the time his face is neutral. "What now?" he asks.

"I've got a place," I tell him as I grab the empty gasoline tank, walking away and expecting him to follow. I do have a safe house, but it was only arranged for me. Lars will most likely gouge me for the extra bed and extra mouth to feed, but I'm willing to pick up a few extra fights. To atone.

As we walk back towards my apartment—though I limp slightly due to the fall—I register sirens in the distance, quickening my pace. He keeps up with me and my odd strides, one of my combat boots thudding on asphalt much harder than the other. It gets better with each step.