Chapter 10
Cassidy
My heart pounded as I grabbed another full bucket and ran toward the long grass. In the distance, the inferno roared, as if it were furious at our feeble attempt to hold back those flames.
Xavier moved like a machine, following my lead without hesitation. We worked in frantic silence, splashing water in wide arcs around the building. My arms burned. My lungs tightened as the smoke thickened in the air.
After wetting the grass, we threw water on the outside walls, then the verandah, soaking every inch of weathered timber we could reach. A rusty axe leaned against the wall beside a small pile of firewood someone had neatly cut and stacked for the campfire out in front of the cottage.
“Need to get rid of these,” I yelled as I grabbed an armful of firewood. I raced down the steps and about thirty feet away, then hurled the logs out into the long grass, well clear of the cottage. Xavier scooped up another bundle and copied my move.
Once the pile was gone, I doused the trunks of the gum trees while Xavier tossed fallen branches and anything that could catch fire away from the cottage.
When the blaze crested the ridge, embers began raining down on us. Bright orange specks floated through the darkness like deadly fireflies. Sharp pain bit into my forearm. Shit! I slapped away a glowing ember, leaving an angry red mark on my skin.
"It's not enough!" Xavier yelled, sweat streaming down his bare torso. He stared at the wall of flames racing toward us. "We'll never hold back those flames!"
I wiped sweat from my eyes, scanning the cottage. "No. But we might be able to stop it from getting inside. We need to seal this place up."
"Right!" He nodded. "Tell me what to do."
"Find the bath plug and turn on the tap. I'll get two more buckets of water."
As he sprinted inside, I raced around the cottage to the tank. He wasn't arguing. Wasn't questioning. He trusted me. Not many men did that.
While the bucket filled, I turned toward the fire. The entire ridge was a wall of orange. A tsunami of flames.
Fuck.
"The water's brown!" Xavier yelled from inside.
"Rusty pipes!" I yelled back.
"Okay. What next?"
I swapped the buckets over. "Wet those blankets and find more towels or rags." When both buckets were full, I hauled them back inside. Xavier had yanked out two more blankets and a couple of ratty old towels. His eyes were wide, his jaw tight.
He's trying to keep it together. Just like me.
"We need to seal all the gaps." I dunked a towel into a bucket. "Close all the windows!"
He bolted toward the bathroom while I stuffed a wet towel along the bottom of the window above the kitchen bench.
"Keep going!" I yelled. "Fill every gap, every crack. The smoke will kill us before the flames do."
"What about the door?" He was at my side again, breathing hard, face streaked with soot and sweat.
"We shut it last." I shoved two old towels into his hands. "Tear these in half."
As he ripped them apart, I raced to the bathtub and scooped out a bucket of water. Inside the front door, I poured it over the floorboards, darkening the old timber.
I glanced outside. Flames were eating through a patch of long grass near the corner of the cottage. "Shit! Xavier, fill this with water from the bath!" I tossed the bucket to him.
I grabbed a wet towel and ran back outside. The heat slammed into me, nearly knocking me back.
I beat at the spot fires starting in the grass, the wet towel hissing against the flames. Xavier ran up beside me and sloshed water onto the sparks. But spot fires ignited faster than we could move.
Two became four. Four grew to six.
"Fuck, they're everywhere." I slapped the towel onto each new spark, my arms burning.
Xavier's bucket ran dry. "Give it to me." He grabbed my towel and beat at the flames.
As I ran up the steps to get another towel, rats darted past my feet—dozens of them, streaming from the scrub in a panicked wave. Mice scattered after them in frantic bursts.
I glanced toward the front of the fire.
Oh God. The entire ridgeline was ablaze. A wall of orange was charging straight at us.
We had minutes—maybe less.
I sprinted to the bathtub and dunked another towel. The tap was still running, but the bath was barely a quarter full. Water dripped from the towel as I raced back outside.
Together we attacked the spot fires, stamping and smothering. The wind kept driving sparks down on us, faster than we could kill them.
A squeal cut through the roar. Feral pigs dashed past the cottage, their tusks gleaming in the firelight as they bolted toward safer ground.
"Cassidy!" Xavier swung his towel at a new flame. "We can't keep up."
The roaring blaze was deafening. Flames devoured everything in their path.
"Okay." I could barely get the word out. "Let's go."
We raced inside, and Xavier slammed the door shut. Rats skittered across the floorboards, their claws scratching against the wood as they fled under the bunks.
I ran to the bathtub and grabbed another wet towel. At the front door, I dropped to my knees and shoved it into the gap beneath the frame. My mind raced. What else do we do? What am I missing?
"What next?" Xavier shouted.
"Wet the blankets!"
Xavier sprinted to the bathroom and came back with arms full of dripping wool.
Smoke poured in through the unlined ceiling, crawling along the edges where the corrugated iron roof met the walls.
Ash rained down on us like black snow.
"Shit. Shit!" My hands shook. My mind screamed. I spun around, searching for something I'd forgotten. Something that would save us. The walls were timber. The roof was just corrugated iron. One ember in the right spot and this whole place would go up like kindling.
We were going to burn.
Oh God. We're going to ? —
"Cassidy." Xavier grabbed both my shoulders. "Hey. Look at me."
I couldn't catch my breath. Couldn't think straight.
"We've done everything we can." His voice was steady despite the fear in his eyes. "We'll be okay. We’ll get through this.”
The temperature spiked, and heat pressed in from all sides.
My gaze snapped to the bathroom. The cast-iron bathtub sat low to the ground. It was the only solid thing in this place, and it was partially filled with water.
"The tub," I said. "We get in the bathtub."
"Yes. Brilliant!” His eyes widened. “Come on."
We raced into the bathroom, and he slammed the door. The roar of the fire was right outside. Through the grimy window, flames licked at the grass we'd soaked. Steam hissed where water met fire.
Above us, smoke snaked in through gaps in the roof. Every breath was painful.
"Those wet blankets," I said. "We can use them to breathe through."
He yanked open the door, grabbed both blankets from the floor, and returned, handing me one.
"Get in the tub." He gripped my elbow.
As I stepped into the ankle-deep water, I looked at his size, then at the tub. "We're not going to fit."
"We have to. I'll get on top of you."
"Like hell you will." I shook my head. "You're not using yourself as a shield. We'll fit side by side."
The heat built, turning the small cottage into an oven. Smoke poured in through the roof, dragging ash with it, and the black specks fell around us, dusting our hair and shoulders and settling on the surface of the water like gray snow.
"Shit. We need something to cover us." I looked into his wide eyes.
"I have an idea." He yanked the door open again and stormed out.
I climbed out of the bath, my socks squelching in my boots as I followed him.
Thick smoke filled the room, hitting me like a noxious cloud.
I coughed and choked on the suffocating air that was so thick I couldn't even see the front door.
The heat had gotten worse, pressing against my skin like I'd opened an oven door.
Rats and mice were everywhere. Darting across the floorboards, squeaking in panic as they searched for shelter that didn't exist.
Xavier stood next to a bunk. "What about this? We can put this over the bath."
I staggered toward him, one hand over my mouth and nose, eyes streaming. The bunk frame could provide some protection, but not against the heat. Not if the roof came down.
"The canvas is useless. It will ignite like paper." I was coughing so hard I could barely get the words out.
He pressed both hands against his head like his skull was about to split open. "Then what?"
I looked around frantically, squinting through the smoke. The room was a blur of shadows and orange flickers filtering through the windows. "The cupboard door."
We bolted to the kitchen, and I yanked open the heavy door.
"Out of the way." Xavier shouldered past me.
He gripped the door with both hands, planted his foot against the frame, and wrenched back. His muscles strained. Veins stood out in his neck. He roared, pulling harder. The hinges screeched, and the entire door ripped free.
Xavier stumbled backward with the door gripped in his hands.
"Holy shit." I stared at him. That was unexpected.
The door was solid timber. Heavy enough that it just might save us.
His breathing was hard, eyes wild. "You get the bunk!" He lifted the door and raced toward the bathroom.
While he maneuvered the door through to the bathroom, I dragged the bunk in after him. Something enormous crashed outside, hitting the ground with a massive thud, and rodents scattered in every direction. I hope that wasn’t the windmill. Those things were damn expensive to replace.
As Xavier grabbed the bunk off me, I buckled forward, coughing so hard my ribs ached. Mice raced across my boots and vanished under the tub. Maybe we could flip the tub over?
No chance. That old clawfoot bath would weigh a ton.
"You okay?" Xavier rested his hand on my lower back.
"Yeah." I stood up, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “I hope this works.”
"It will. I'll grab a knife to cut away this canvas." He raced out the door.
The bath was nearly half full, so I turned off the tap.
Xavier returned with a carving knife. As I shut the bathroom door, he slashed through the canvas, cutting it away in ragged strips until only the metal frame remained.
"Will this work?" I asked between gasps, unable to find clean air.
"It has to." Xavier was breathing hard. "We need to position the door first, then get in. It's too heavy to lift from inside."
Something hit the roof with a metallic boom, then scraped across it before tumbling off.
“What the hell was that?” Xavier’s eyes filled with terror.
“Tree branch,” I said. Hoping it was that, and not part of the windmill.
We dragged the bunk frame over, flipped it upside down, and set it across the bathtub, legs pointing up.
"Now the door," he said, lifting the heavy timber.
Together, we laid the door across the frame. It was narrower than the tub, leaving a gap along each side, but it would cover our heads and chests. That was what mattered.
Xavier tested it, pushing down. "It'll work. I'll hold it up while you get in."
Ducking beneath the bunk, I climbed over the edge of the tub, and lukewarm water filled my boots and sloshed around my legs. I lowered myself down and lay on my back with my knees bent. There was barely enough room for me, let alone both of us.
"Get your ass in here," I yelled, bracing my boots against the underside of the frame. I pushed up, lifting it for him. "Hurry!"
He swung one leg over the edge, and the tub groaned with his weight. Water sloshed over the rim, splashing across the floor.
"There's no room," he said, one foot still on the floor, half-crouched over me.
"I’ll turn sideways. We have to lie on our sides."
"Okay, I've got the frame." He grunted, bracing his hand against it. "Move over."
I rolled onto my side to face him, pressing my back against the cold porcelain.
He climbed in fully, maneuvering himself until he was facing me.
The tub was too short for us to straighten our legs.
I bent my knees, drawing them up. He did the same, and our legs tangled together—his thigh slotting between mine, my knee fitting against his hip.
We locked together like puzzle pieces, the only way we'd both fit.
Our bodies pressed together. Chest to chest. Breathing each other’s space.
The door was about six inches over our heads. Not much protection, but something.
I tilted my head back against the side of the bathtub and through the gap between the door and the edge of the tub, I could see the window. The pane shook and rattled, and the glass hummed with each wave of heat.
I hoped that damn glass wouldn't implode, or we had no hope of keeping those flames out.
I grabbed one of the wet blankets. He took one edge, I took the other, and we pressed the sodden wool over our mouths and noses.
Through the roaring fire, birds screeched overhead as they fled what we couldn't.
"You need to pull in closer," he said, his voice muffled through the blanket. He raised his arm, and I ducked under his shoulder, and as his arm came around my back, I rested my head on his bare chest.
He pulled me tightly, and every line of his body pressed against mine—his chest, his hips, his legs tangled with mine. His hot breath brushed against my hair.
"Well, this is a first for me," he said. "Usually, I take a woman out to dinner before we get this close."
"Really? Dinner's overrated," I said, wishing I could see his face.
Xavier's arms tightened around me. His heart pounded fast and hard against my ear.
It was the first sign I'd had that he was as scared as I was.
Somehow, that made it both worse and better. At least I wasn't alone.
I pressed the wet blanket tighter over my face, trying to filter the smoke from each breath. The water lapped at my shoulder and hip.
Please . Please let us survive this.
Xavier’s lips moved against my hair, mumbling something that I could barely hear over the roar of the inferno, but I felt the vibration of his voice through his chest.
The roar got louder. The mice squawked beneath us.
I curled into Xavier, and he crushed me to his chest.
The fire hit the cottage like a freight train.
The world exploded into heat, sound, and terror.
And I held onto Xavier and prayed.