Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
FLETCHER
“Fletcher! Fletcher, please ,” a small voice wails somewhere near my ear.
I blink my eyes open, and they immediately start to burn. At first I think my vision is blurry from sleep, but no matter how much I rub my eyes, they don’t clear.
I cough again, and once I start, it’s hard to stop. Is that smoke?
“Fletch!” A hand tugs on mine, and I look down to see two wide brown eyes staring up at me.
“Jacks?” She’s still in her matching purple butterfly PJs, her hair in the messy braids I tried to do for her before bed.
She tugs urgently on my sleeve. “Fire. Fire.”
Fire?
That finally banishes the lingering sleep from my brain. I shove myself out of bed, keeping one hand in hers, and hurry toward the door.
“Did you wake the others?” I ask.
Jacks coughs and shakes her head. “You first.”
I hunch low as I drag the two of us through the hall. Smoke sits in the air, and sweat breaks out along every inch of exposed skin. I go to Joan and Bob’s room first, but their bed is empty. Did they even come home last night? I thought I’d heard them drunkenly stumbling through the door around midnight.
…which means they’re probably passed out on the couches downstairs. Shit.
Jacks starts to cry behind me, and I tighten my hand around hers. “Come on. Let’s find Henry and Lucy. Penny’s at a sleepover, right?”
“I think so.”
We turn for the opposite end of the hall where the youngest kids share a room. It feels like it’s getting hotter in here by the second. “We need to call 911. Can you find the phone?”
She digs her fingers into my arm, and I turn to her. Her eyes are wide, panicked. She might be the second oldest in the house, but she’s still only eight. I can’t ask her to split up. We’ll have to hope a neighbor notices and calls.
“Okay, okay.” I tighten my hand around hers to show I’m not letting go, then pull up the collar of my shirt to cover my nose and mouth and gesture for her to do the same.
I have no idea where the fire is coming from, but if I had to guess, it’s downstairs. Shouldn’t a smoke detector be going off at this point or something? The idiots probably disabled them so they’d stop going off while they smoked in here.
I shoulder the kids’ door open but freeze at the sight of more empty beds. Where the hell ? —
“Fletcher!” Lucy’s voice. She and Henry are huddled together beneath one of the beds.
“Come on, come on.” I wave urgently for them to join us, and they stumble out. Jacks takes Henry’s hand, but Lucy is crying so hard now that she’s going to be impossible to reason with. There’s no way she’ll move on her own.
“Okay, okay.” I gather her in my arms, and she tucks her face against my neck.
I try to stay low as we all head for the stairs to get beneath the smoke, but my lungs are still protesting every breath. We need to get out. And soon.
I glance over the side of the banister and stifle a curse. Flames are jumping from curtain to curtain in the TV room. And sitting in the center of it all is a stockpile of Bob’s Scotch bottles. He’s passed out on the recliner, his wife across from him on the sofa, a bottle of vodka in her hand. Cigarettes are discarded on the floor all around them. I don’t think I could wake them up now if I tried.
I push Jacks and Henry onto the stairs in front of me. “Go! Front door. Now!”
Even as I say it, the fire spreads, the flames eating up everything in their path.
“Mr. Teddy!” Lucy wails and struggles against my arms.
Jesus Christ, we are not going back for the bear.
Henry’s head pops up, eyes round. Oh God, this is going to be a domino effect. I throw my other arm around his waist before he can make a run for it and yank him up as he screams for his blanket.
“Jacks!” I yell. “Door!”
Both kids are screaming and thrashing against me now. Jacks takes the stairs two at a time and makes it to the door first.
“Use your shirt! Don’t touch the handle!”
She wraps her sleeve around her hand before yanking on the door, but it doesn’t open.
I set Lucy down. Just for a second. Just to help with the lock.
But it’s long enough.
She turns and darts back up the stairs.