Chapter 28
Grim
Instead of reveling in Zero’s death, a million questions flooded Grim’s mind with dread. Were Misha and Dennis still down in that same room where he left them? Would they have left the building? Were the explosives planted only on the first floor? Would the whole building collapse?
None of these questions could be answered by Zero who convulsed under Grim’s shoe. With the helicopter furiously burning on the other side of the roof, the only entrance into the building was blocked, and Grim’s decision needed to be fast. Just seeing the flames had Grim on the edge, but he would not go down without a fight.
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 a pull, 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 the windows 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.
“Here!” Dennis yelled and waved his hand toward a room at the end of the corridor.
Grim coughed, squeezing one hand on Misha’s forearm, where it pressed against his body, and ran. Misha’s survival was his sole reason to still exist. “Hold on,” he muttered, trying not to stumble, even though his feet were dragging for no reason. His mind was resisting the force that was trying to pull it into a spin, but by the time he rushed into the same room as Dennis, the edges of his vision were already fuzzy. Without a second thought, he moved to the empty window and looked out.
Only one floor, and the window below had bars in it. To the side was a drainpipe they could try to use for climbing down. Some bushes could soften their fall if they didn’t make it.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Misha whispered and kissed the back of Grim’s head.
Grim’s gaze swung toward Dennis, who eyed the light dancing over the ground below with a stiffened expression. Grim smirked and put his leg over the bottom of the window frame, already reaching for the drainpipe. “You’re gonna be okay,” he promised, fighting against the weight that was pulling him down and the painful stretch on his skin.
Dennis nodded but looked back, as if expecting the fire to rush inside like a contract killer .
“Stay right behind us,” Misha added, holding on tightly to Grim with his arms and legs.
“Thank you,” Dennis choked out, following onto the window ledge as soon as Grim made some room for him.
Grim struggled to uncurl his fingers and hold on to the pipe, but as he reached out, the burning sensation on the left side of his body opened its screaming mouth. Grim choked out a scream and swung forward, clinging to the pipe for dear life as the metal that held it against the fa?ade cut into his finger. “Fuck ... fuck,” he muttered, trying to lower himself slowly and fighting against Misha’s weight that suddenly was too much to bear.
“I’ll be okay,” Misha whispered into his ear, and before Grim could understand those words, Misha slid a bit lower down Grim’s body, and … let go. This was one weight Grim never wanted off his shoulders.
Misha yelped as he fell, and the crack of bushes told Grim that he was down, but his face and neck hurt so bad he couldn’t even turn around to check if Misha hadn’t impaled himself on some horrific piece of metal hiding under the plants.
“I’m fine!” Misha yelled, though it had a whine to it that made Grim want to desperately get down and check if he truly was all right.
He briefly considered letting go of the drainpipe, but that could send him straight on top of Misha, so he started to move down as originally planned. Each movement felt as if new wounds were opening in Grim’s flesh, but he kept lowering himself, not even afraid of the flames that broke through the windows at his side anymore. The touch of solid ground beneath his feet was a shock to his system.
Dennis was right behind him, and Misha crawled toward Grim with a crown of leaves adorning his head. The fire storming through the building right next to them brought out shadows on his lovely face. Relief of being out of that hellpit was so immense Grim’s knees went soft and his vision blurred.
Grim reached out to Misha, but his legs gave out on him, and he fell into the high grass, trying to catch his breath as his windpipe refused to work and reduced Grim’s breathing to a panicked rasp. He batted his hand around, not sure anymore where he could find Misha.
“I’m here, I’m here, you saved me. It’s going to be all right,” Misha found his hand, leaning over him, and Grim squeezed it, fighting through the stinging in his palm to make sure that the warm fingers didn’t belong to a phantom. “I’m here,” repeated Misha and pulled closer.
Grim’s eyes fluttered shut as he fought for air, squeezing the smaller hand in his. Waves of heat were floating all over him. It was ironic that Logan, who came here to burn the world once again, ended up consumed by flames this time.
Grim swallowed, but an insistent sound was snaking its way into his mind from the background. Was the helicopter not down after all?
He shuddered and clenched his teeth not to scream from the stinging pain all over his body. It was only truly getting to him now, clawing its way into Grim’s flesh at a rapid pace. He could hardly stand it anymore. But he rescued Misha. Whatever happened, he did at least that much. It was fine.
The buzz of the engines was getting louder, and he realized it was a familiar sound.
Motorcycles.