Page 89 of His Favorite Color is Blood
He looked around, breathing hard as he paced close to Zero’s body. The bastard’s death had been far too easy, but in this situation, he couldn’t risk separating and transporting body parts to present them to Misha. Getting out of here alive was a priority.
Grim ran up to the edge of the roof and looked down, only to see bright light trembling at the bottom of the building. He could almost taste the flames on his tongue already. At least the hospital hadn’t collapsed yet, but there was no time to waste. The windows in the floor below didn’t have any bars to block them, and Grim leaned out, squinting to make sure the one he chose had no glass left as well.
Sink or swim.
He pulled out the garotte he’d carried in here strapped to his underwear and ran over to the chimney to attach it. He checked whether it could withstand apull, but since it stayed in place, he ran to the edge of the roof. He would not have another innocent boy swallowed by flames.
His heart hurt, as if someone stabbed it, and for a moment, he led himself to believe that Zero somehow had stayed alive and attacked him from behind. But no, there wasn’t any blood, just another way for his body to make him move.
He climbed on the ledge, and the world became a bit fuzzy when he looked below. He’d done many things he wasn’t proud of, but letting Coy burn was something he had never forgiven himself for. He needed to find Misha and take him out of here alive. No flames would deter him, and no smoke would stop him.
He took one more deep breath, already smelling the burning air below as he curled the garotte around his gloved hands. In case it didn’t hold, he’d try to grab onto the window ledge with his feet and pull himself up. It would be okay.
His life started scrolling in his mind as he trailed through the air with nothing but a wire keeping him from crashing down and breaking every bone in his body. He stopped breathing and pushed his legs forward as the empty window came closer. The movie in Grim’s head paused when he flew inside, but instead of swinging up only to land on his feet like they would in the movies, the glide was interrupted by a snap, and his speed and mass combined shoved him down on his ass and back.
He was hurting and his spine ached, but none of it mattered as long as he was capable of moving. Zero was dead, while Misha could be trapped somewhere without a way out. Despite the pain spreading all over, a few movements assured Grim that nothing important—namely his back—was broken, and he tumbled to his feet and rushed outside. The breath of heat reached him as soon as he darted into the corridor, and panic squeezed at his brain.
“Misha!”
“Logan!” The scream was faint, but it wasn’t just Grim’s imagination. Somewhere, in that pit of fire, Misha was still alive and in need of help. Unlike all those years ago, there was no one here to hold Grim back and make the choice for him.
“I’m coming for you!” he screamed and ran down the grand staircase, fighting through the stiffness in his muscles. Everything about this warned him of danger, and his body brought him right back to the moment when, years ago, he had rushed to open the door of the burning house, only to have a flame scorch his brows before a relative pulled him back.
By the time he reached the second floor, his lungs were already burning with the scratching smoke, which seemed to lick the underside of the stairs above. He wanted to rush right down to where Misha was, but when he looked there, an inferno of fire made him freeze, as if the heat somehow turned the fluids in his body into crystal.
“Help! We’re here!” Dennis yelled, but with the fire blazing, Grim’s senses were running amok. Only the logical part of Grim’s brain convinced him that they clearly couldn’t have been on the burning staircase, so he darted down the corridor to the next way down.
His shoes were like a dead weight on Grim’s legs as he rushed to a narrow shaft that must have been used by the staff back in the day. Simple and devoid of ornaments that many of the corridors boasted. When he opened the door to the staircase, blazing heat smashed into his face, robbing him of breath. It was as if his legs put down roots in the floor. The wooden stairs were burning all the way to the next floor. It took all of Grim’s will not to run, but when he saw movement below, he managed to fight through the terror that kept him immobile.
Emerging out of the smoke, Dennis carried Misha on his back, struggling up step by step and stumbling against the wall. The flames were licking the air closely to their clothes and hair, but Grim couldn’t bring himself to call out to them. He remembered Dennis’s thin legs all too well. Soon enough, Dennis would topple over and send Misha into the fire. He couldn’t let that happen.
Grim descended the stairs, hugging the wall with one shoulder as he sprinted to the landing below. The flames were leaving burns without even touching him. “Give him to me,” he rasped, feeling a surge of panic when Dennis’s whole body shook with a loud cough.
He didn’t have to repeat himself. Dennis dropped to his knees on the stairs and Misha’s teary eyes finally met Grim’s. Only when Grim grabbed his hand and pulled him into his arms did he realize the heaviness of the weight of guilt and regret that he’d carried on his shoulders. He would save Misha from this building whatever it took. Misha curled up in his arms as if he belonged there, but there was no time for questions about Zero or what happened downstairs.
Dennis got up as soon as he could and stumbled into the second floor, chased by fingers made of smoke and fire. Grim pulled Misha hard to his hip and rushed forward, his eyes firmly on the way out. There were no bars in most of thewindows there, and it wasn’t high enough not to risk a jump. What was a broken leg in comparison to burning alive?
Focused on the sweet weight in his arms, Grim was surprised to see Dennis open his eyes wide, but then a loud crack sent a storm of sparks down on him and Misha. He fell to his knees and propped himself over Misha when a blast of unimaginable pain tore into the skin of his arm. He sank over Misha, squeezing him against the floor, but one look into his frightened face was enough to fuel Grim’s remaining strength. He screamed out and pushed himself up, pressing against the flaming weight that sent the same searing sensation all over Grim’s cheek and head. Flames were dancing all around him, but he would not let them touch Misha.
The whole world was red, and when Grim looked down at his lover, who was rapidly crawling out from underneath him, yelling, Grim was struck by a high incomparable with anything in his life. His body felt numb, as if he skinned himself and dusted the flesh with first-grade cocaine. His lungs were filled with liquid fire and his eyes clouded. Misha looked back at him, saying something in a high pitch, but his words couldn’t reach Grim through the thudding sound of blood in his ears. Dennis joined them, and he grabbed Grim’s hand alongside Misha, who pulled on the other, gritting his teeth.
Grim’s body convulsed, and he finally moved, pushing his legs up and crawling. The giant charring log that settled on his shoulder rolled off, crashing on the stairs below, and he crawled on the landing. Darkness descended on him, but as multiple hands patted him down with what now felt like fabric, Grim went limp when his brain stopped scrambling. The piece of clothing was pulled back, and Grim stared at the floor as pain broke through to his brain. At first, his leather-encased shoulder ached, but as seconds passed, the insidious agony felt by every pore on the side of his face and neck surpassed it.
He was seeing bright lights in front of his eyes, and a hint of burnt meat made him heave a few times, but Misha still managed to grab his attention.
“We’ve got you. Can you walk?” he asked as if he could carry Grim now.
Grim shivered, trying to suppress another bout of nausea. He was seeing double, but he would take Misha out of here. He grabbed the wall and pulled himself up, looking down at his lover.
“We need to go,” he breathed, and for once he wasn’t sure what the horrified expression on this lovely face meant. “I’ll take you ...”
Dennis was the first one to run down the corridor despite limping, and even though Grim registered it before, only now he truly noticed that Dennis was wearing Misha’s pants and Misha was in just his underwear and T-shirt. All his delicate skin and flesh could be exposed to fire at any moment.
“I can go on all fours,” Misha said quickly, already moving forward.
Grim wouldn’t let him and pulled him up with a strength he didn’t know he had anymore. There was no way he’d let Misha stay behind. “On my back, quick ... you need to be outside,” he uttered, briefly losing balance as the pain clawed at his brain. Even his knees were shivering.
The floor seemed hot, or maybe it was just his dazed imagination. Misha held on tight to Grim’s shoulders, and Grim didn’t feel pain anymore. All he knew was that his body needed to move, even if swaying from side to side on its own accord.
