Chapter 53
Fifty-Three
Whatever gasoline was left in the canister explodes immediately. It bursts from the seams in the handle and sprays a wall
of fire across the room, separating Easton and me. He stumbles out of the way. It’s spreading.
There’s plenty of water below the boathouse, but the steel ring on the removable floor panel on my side of the room is covered
in burning fuel. The one on Easton’s side is untouched, but a wall of flame blocks him from reaching it. He’s trapped.
But so am I. I spin around, trying to find a free path or place where the flames aren’t so high so I can jump to Valencia
and Miles, who are by the door. But the fire is too strong.
Valencia yells something at me, but I don’t hear it over the roar of the flames.
Easton leers at me, then starts walking along the wall of spreading fire, trying to find a place to jump over. But it’s too
high. And the flames are too hot.
We’re both going to die here.
Black smoke fills the boathouse rafters, and it makes my already raw throat burn even more.
Valencia moves closer. “Fire extinguisher! Workbench!” She points.
I open the cabinet under the workbench and there it is—a small white fire extinguisher for putting out engine fires.
I pull the pin and spray the flames separating her and me. Aiming at the floor.
Once there’s a spot large enough for me to jump through, she waves me over. I leap to her side, and she pulls me tight against
her, squeezing. It hurts so bad, but I can’t help but wrap my arms around her, too. Then I pull her back toward the door,
but she stops.
“Mom!” Easton calls out. He holds a hand against his jaw where the ice pick exited his chin, and he sounds like a slurring
drunk. “Mom, please!”
Valencia looks at me. Then takes the fire extinguisher.
“No!” I say, reaching for it.
But she doesn’t listen to me. She walks over to him. Behind me, Miles is pulling at my arm, trying to get me out of the boathouse.
But I have to stop Valencia. She can’t let Easton go. He’ll kill us all.
I run over to her, but she puts her hand out to stop me.
“Please,” Easton yells between coughs. “Please don’t let me die, Mommy.”
He’s so full of shit. He’s faking it so he can kill her once she saves him. But of course she’s going to save him. He’s her
only living son.
Her only real living son.
“You can’t do this!” I tell her. “He’ll kill us! You know he will.”
“He’s my son.” She gives me a sad look. Tears streak through the soot on her cheeks.
Then she turns back to Easton.
“Marcus and I wanted children because we wanted to know that when we died, we were leaving something better in the world behind us. With all my heart, I love you. Despite everything, I still love you.”
She sets down the fire extinguisher.
“But you’re dangerous. Not just to us, but to everyone. I don’t think you’re capable of leaving the world better than when
you came into it.”
“Mom!” Easton finally looks shocked.
Valencia shakes her head. “I’ll love you for always, my baby.”
“Mommy! PLEASE!” Tears spill down Easton’s bloody, quickly reddening face. If I didn’t know better, I would think he’s scared.
But Easton doesn’t know what fear is. Even now, I don’t think he knows.
“I’m sorry.” Valencia draws the gun she tucked into the top of her jeans.
“No!” He reaches over the fire for the weapon.
But Valencia pulls the trigger, and the bullet hits Easton right in the eye and exits the back of his head. He falls to his
knees, then falls forward into the fire. Valencia drops the gun, putting her hands to her face as she lets out a heartbreaking
scream.
I try to pull her away. And for a second, I’m worried she’s about to stay. That after learning that her missing son has been
dead, watching her only living son kill her husband, then having to shoot that son herself, she might not be able to find
a way to go on.
But finally she does move. And lets me lead her out of the inferno.