Slay

Rescue Mission

Sawdust flew around Ivy as she and Eiden cut through the roof. Ivy silently thanked her soundproof protective helmet for blocking out the dust and the roar of her chainsaw, and Eiden for insisting that they wear them. Finally, the last tortured planks gave way; Ivy lifted them aside, allowing the smaller debris to tumble into the room. She lifted the visor of her helmet to better see the three shocked faces staring up at her.

Eiden scrambled back up his rope into the sleigh to prepare for their getaway. Below them, Mrs Claus appeared to be shouting something; Ivy removed her helmet so that she could hear it.

"What are you doing?"

The other woman - Ava's mother? - was also shouting. "You cut through my roof! I hope you have insurance, because you're paying!"

"Rescue mission, ma'am!" yelled Ivy. Her voice was high-pitched with fear and a touch uncertain. Eiden lowered the rope, with the stubborn commitment of those who only saw how terrible their plan was once they were halfway through it.

Ava was sitting bolt upright in bed; her shirt was muddy, there were leaves tangled in her hair, and her expression was furious. "You - you - get out! Get out of my room!"

"Come on, ma'am!" Ivy called. The rope was now dangling in the centre of the room; Mrs Claus hurried towards it. "Sorry about all this! We'll pay for the repairs, of course -"  Her foot caught the leg of a chair, sending it - and the jacket draped over it - tumbling to the floor. "Sorry!" she said again, clinging to the rope's convenient hand- and footholds under the assumption that the sooner they got out of there, the better. The sleigh lifted Mrs Claus and Ivy out of the room.

"Look!" Their feet had barely left the floor when Ivy gasped and pointed - not at the jacket, but at the box of matches that had fallen out of its pocket.

Mrs Claus turned to look. Her eyes widened. "Stop! Stop the sleigh!"

Eiden, with his soundproof helmet, didn't hear. The rope continued to retract.

"It's you," The cold fury in Mrs Claus's voice chilled Ivy's stomach. Ava shrank back under the blankets. "Robyn. You think you can just do this and get away with it? I'll-" 

They emerged through the hole in the roof into the crisp nighttime breeze. The rain had stopped. The rope pulled Mrs Claus up into the sleigh, like a reverse ejector seat. Ivy wasn't so lucky, since her rope was a makeshift addition. She had to climb.

Ava and her mother were left alone in a wrecked bedroom with a grey hoodie and a box of matches on the floor.

"Who was that? Do you know those people?" Ava's mom looked from the debris on the floor to the ragged hole in the roof and cursed quietly. "Where's my phone? I'm going to call the police-" She hurried back to her bedroom to look for it.

Ava placed the phone in question - which, of course, she still had - on her bedside table, where her mom would find it. Then she grabbed the matches and her jacket, slung her backpack over her shoulder and scrambled out of the window.

It was barely a drop from her ground-floor window to the cold, wet grass. Ava did what she did best; she ran.

She pushed aside the dripping tree branches to slip through the gap between their fence and the neighbours' wall. At first she ran with no destination except away. Her fear mounted. 

Her heart slammed in her chest at the thought of getting lost; her mother's fear and anger; the simple terror of having nowhere safe to go. Home wasn't safe, not anymore. Mrs Claus would cut it to pieces and find Ava wherever she hid.