Page 43 of StoryTeller's Tale

“Not looking good, Bro. We’re trying to clear a path in through the door and down to the basement, but flames are beating us back. We’ll do what we can from this side and give you the go when we’ve got a chance of getting you out.”There’s a pause then Chaz says, “You haven’t got long. That fuckin’ building is going to collapse.”

Fuck. I sweep back my hair with my hands. This wasn’t how I was meant to die, burned to a cinder, caught like a cornered rat. Adrenaline courses through my body, but there’s nowhere to run, and fuck all that I can do. I have to rely on my brothers to help.

A wheezing sound gets my attention. Turning, I see one of the women gasping to get air into her lungs. It’s then I realise it’s getting harder to breathe. The fire must be sucking up air into the floors above.

“Get blankets,” I yell to Sheri, running into the cells and grabbing some for myself. I place them under the door where there’s a gap.

Sheri, and surprisingly Carole, appear with a couple more, but as I study the doorway, I know our efforts are futile. The door isn’t fixed tightly enough.

Still, I try to ram whatever we’ve got into the voids, hopefully keeping our meagre air supply from being decimated for a little longer.

“We haven’t got long,” I speak for my brothers’ benefit. “Getting hot as hell down here.”

“Working on it, Bro.”Chaz’s voice comes over to me, sounding calm.“We’re removing debris from the front of the house. ST, when it’s time to run, you’ll be coming out hot.”

That’s an understatement. But when it’s time, I’ll be exiting that door, taking my chances. I’d rather let the flames have me, than suffocate. I’ll go out fighting, just as I’ve lived my life.

Having to trust in the toil of my brothers, I turn my attention to Sheri. She’s scared. Her eyes are flaring, and her cheeks are pale. Then, I can see no more as the overhead light goes off, and the only illumination is the orange tinge seeping in through the cracks in the door. Other women are screaming, one starts praying, but Sheri makes her way over to me.

She’s afraid but keeping it together. “What can I do?”

Impressed as fuck with her, and not for the first time, I think fast, trying to find something positive as much as to keep her occupied. “See what water we’ve got. Tell the women to soak something, clothing, hell, whatever they can find, and be prepared to put it over their heads.”

“We won’t be able to run through that fire,” Carole states, overhearing as she too comes up close.

“You’ve got any better ideas?” At least Sheri’s trying to stay positive and take action. “This is our best chance, Carole.” I have to get through to her as I need her help. I’ve noticed she’s some de facto leader, and the others look to her.

Fuck.I’ve got women already traumatised, and I’m preparing to be a Pied Piper, expecting them to follow me to probably death.

“Carole, either we try to get out of here, or we die from lack of air and smoke inhalation, and that’s if the ceiling doesn’t cave in and crush us first.” Sheri’s summed up our predicament well.

“Or wait for someone to put the fire out.” Carole doesn’t seem to like anyone else taking charge.

It could have been a good suggestion, but I’m not sure how long we’ve got. This place is miles away from anywhere, and help won’t get here soon enough.

I could get myself and Sheri out, leave the others to face whichever fate they choose.But that’s not the way I roll. Where there’s breath, there’s a chance.

“We’ve got a hose. Front door is clear, but that fire’s taking a hold. If you’re going to get out of there, best do it soon, Bro.”

Again, Chaz sounds calm, unflappable, but his soothing tone doesn’t help. Even he can’t disguise that what he’s proposing is risky as fuck.

It’s easy enough to say. Go up the stairs, open the door, and run like hell. But I know from the roaring sound that fire means business, and the cracks of the building as beams fall, mean that time’s running out.

“Gotta make a move, Bro.”Though he successfully avoids injecting panic into his voice, the message comes over loud and clear. It’s now or never.

Sheri’s back by my side. “They’ve all got something to cover their heads.” She pauses, and while it’s hard to make out her features, I think she’s grimacing. “We ran out of water, so I emptied the buckets as well.”

It’s good thinking, but I don’t know how the fuck she persuaded the women to cover their heads with piss-covered cloths. Still, I suppose, they’ve been kept in these filthy conditions for long enough that they no longer smell themselves.

As if reading my mind, she tugs at my arms and says calmly, with only a slight quiver to betray the fear in her voice, “Can we get out of here? I’m dreaming of a cold shower.”

I can’t help it. I pull her to me, slam my lips down on hers and kiss her as if my life depends on it. She responds with the same desperation, as if agreeing if this is all we have of our time, we’ll make the most of it.

A crackle, a crash, make me jump away. In the dim orange glow, I meet her eyes, noticing her flaming red hair enhanced by the light. Taking a tie from my pocket, I gently pull her hair back, twisting it into a bun, and securing it at the top of her head. Then, with a spare, I do the same to mine.

She straightens her back and gives a small nod of her head as though acknowledging it’s time.

I can’t leave her like this. Curling my hand around the back of her neck, I tilt her head so she’s forced to look into my eyes.

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