29. Arden
Arden
“Do you smell smoke?”
The moment the words are out of my mouth, I know I’m right. I’ve been smelling it for a while, but in that background sort of way where your mind doesn’t really pick up on what it’s noticing. Atmospheric music that you don’t really hear. The color of the sunlight changing.
The smell that should have set your instincts off but didn’t, because you’ve had too much to drink and you’re far too happy to think about things like smoke in your house.
Mars takes a deep breath and explodes off the couch, followed closely by Orion, who actually dumps me on the ground in his need to get up.
We all stand there for a moment, turning around like we’re expecting a sign to pop up saying ‘fire this way.’ And then we realize we’re standing in a house that smells like smoke, turn as one, and run for the front door.
When we get into the driveway we see that it’s not the house, but the garage. At some point it’s caught fire and though it’s not yet gone, one entire side is engulfed in flames.
Mars freezes in the driveway, his mouth hanging open in shock. “Oh my God,” he whispers.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him still in the face of a problem.
Usually he’s the first to respond, the man who has all the answers, and the one that everyone else calls on when they have a problem.
But right now he’s frozen, no fight or flight but just pure stillness as he watches his pride and joy go up in flames.
Orion, on the other hand, is all action. He’s got his phone to his ear and is talking to someone called Shane about how he needs to get his crew here as soon as possible, and to call out the town’s workforce. He hangs up that call and then gets Gunner and Gabe on the line, and next he calls Bear.
In that moment, I realize I’m standing here like a complete idiot watching Orion solve problems when I need to be doing something. Mars is still frozen, his eyes on the fire like his entire world is going up in flames, and I can’t help him.
I mean, I could, but he’s at least safe.
And I’ve just remembered things that aren’t.
I look from the fire, which is in the back wall of the garage, to the house, and try to measure the distance. The garage isn’t even fully burning yet, and I don’t think the fire is going to get to the house anytime soon.
Which is good, because there are things in that house that need saving.
I’m running before I can think about it too much, flour billowing up off my robe as I sprint back for the house, and though I hear someone shouting my name behind me, I don’t listen to them.
I don’t have time.
That fire is spreading, and though I assume the fire department is on its way, I still have a small window of opportunity.
And three rooms I have to hit before the flames reach the house.
I hit the living room running and skid on the remains of flour on the floor, but don’t let it stop me. Upstairs first, I think, because if the flames get in here, I don’t want to get trapped up there. I certainly don’t want to be on the top floor if it ends up collapsing.
I rush up the stairs and go to my room first. This will be the quickest of the trips, and I can take care of it without a second thought.
After all, this is the least important thing in the house.
I run into my bathroom, throw open the medicine cabinet, and grab my medicine, shoving it into the pocket of the robe before I can stop myself. Then I spin and run from the room, heading for the room on the other side of the stairs.
Mars’ room.
I’ve never been all the way in there, but I’ve seen it from the doorway, and I know what he keeps in there. I know he’d never, ever forgive himself if he lost any of it.
I slip through the door and immediately feel the heat.
He shares a wall with the garage and this is the one of the first rooms that will burn if the fire gets in here.
I grab a box and then run around the room, getting as many things as I can and throwing them into the box.
It’s not a large box and I wish I could get more, but in the end I’m too small to carry much more than this.
And I still have another room to get through before things go sideways on me.
I prop the box up on my hip, rushing from desk to dresser to side table and grabbing valuable objects, and when the box is nearly full and starting to get heavy, I decide that’s going to have to be enough.
I send a silent, heartfelt apology to Mars for all the things I’m leaving behind, and then rush from the room.
I’m sweating buckets now and the heat is bleeding through the wall behind me like a living thing.
I can hear the fire crackling on the other side of it and for just a moment, I let my brain think about how close it is.
How much trouble I’m in if things go wrong.
Then I shove the thought out of my head. It’s too frightening, and it’s not going to do me any good. I have a problem to solve, and one route for solving it. I just have to find the most efficient way to do it.
The way that sees me still alive at the end of this adventure.
I practically fly down the stairs, skipping as many as I can manage, and hit the bottom floor stumbling and tripping, my momentum and the added weight of the box sending me forward more quickly than I expect.
I run right into the couch, bounce off it and run into a lamp.
and then go backward into a wall that connects to the garage.
It’s so hot I can feel it burning through my robe and pajamas, and I scream.
Then I turn and run for the hallway, and Orion’s room. There are no flames in here yet, and I can hear sirens outside. The firetrucks are here. They’ll get water on that fire soon.
And that will give me more time to grab the things Orion can’t afford to lose before they burn.