Dusk Harbor 1999

The Fire

Mark and his team arrived at the scene of the fire. A modern twenty-story apartment building, mostly glass with some concrete separating each story, engulfed in flames from the eleventh story up. Glass was shattering, smoke billowed in black clouds that swallowed up the night sky and buried the stars and moon. People were standing on ledges, ready to jump for it. Even if jumping meant certain death, they all knew it was better than burning.

The leader called them to the middle of the street in front of it. She started talking, but Mark didn't pay any attention. The street was blocked off by fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars. Flocks of people with phones and cameras. Some were screaming and crying, trying to break past the white and orange barricades. The police pushed against them, and spoke firmly. Other people were just standing silently, watching with curious expressions.

One woman in a red coat screeched at the top of her lungs, and jumped over one of the barricades. Bolted towards the front doors. Mark hopped onto a loose tire and flew over to her, blocking her path.

"Who are you looking for?" He asked.

"My son! He's---" She pointed up, and screeched. "Oh my gosh! No!"

Mark followed her horrified gaze and saw a tiny figure of a young boy teetering on a ledge, looking behind him.

"No! Don't jump!" She yelled with tears streaming down her face.

Mark stepped away from the woman.

"Stay here," he ordered. He hoisted the tire up off the ground and flew away. Up towards the little boy. Through a plume of thick black smoke that stung his eyes and made him cough.

The air smelled of burnt everything. Burnt gasoline, burnt hair, burnt food and glue. It was hard to breathe. He came up to the window where the little boy was standing. Preparing to make a decision. Either one would kill him. The boy was covered in soot, his blond hair looked mostly black. He gasped and coughed when he saw Mark. He held his arms out to him.

Mark put his arms around the boy, and had him link his hands around his neck. Told him to hold on tight. He flew down toward the ground, drifted away from the plumes of evil black smoke, and landed softly.

He set the boy on the sidewalk right next to his mother. She fell to her knees and grasped her son's arms, pulled him close to her, and hugged him so hard that he started coughing and pushing her away.

"Thank you so so so much," the mother cried, "you really aren't so bad, like they say."

"Thank you, finally someone understands!" He exclaimed.

Mark looked back up at the building. He sighed. There were a dozen people, deciding between burning or jumping. So he took off flying, to try and save as many as he could.

****

Fae walked beside Living Weapon through one of the long, wide hallways on the thirteenth floor of the building. The heat was unbearable, she could feel it toasting her skin. The smoke constricted her lungs like a bunch of snakes. Living Weapon was holding a fire extinguisher-- which he kept regenerating once it ran out-- putting out the worst of the flames where he could. He kept shaking his head and mumbling to himself like he was trying to remember something or forget something.

She had never seen so much fire all at once. It was like being inside an inferno. It was nearly impossible to see through all the black smoke. She could only see what was immediately around her, bits of burning walls and the floor beneath her feet.

Megabyte was behind them, he came up next to her and then nudged Living Weapon and muttered something to him. They both nodded and picked up the pace. She wondered what they were talking about, and wanted to know. As she reached out her hand to tap Megabyte on his shoulder there came a muffled noise. Like a cat buried in Styrofoam. Her hand froze an inch from his arm.