Blue flames spark on impact. A white-hot liquid fire races across the floorboards, chasing every flammable material and igniting the cabin like kindling. The flames start blue and hot, then surge into a wall of red that rises up between us.

22. Escape

22

Escape

Blakely

I meet Alex’s eyes across the flames. My whole body is paralyzed, waiting. For him. I’m not sure what I’m afraid of more: the fire, or Alex’s pain swallowing me like the void of this room.

This one moment of hesitation, of indecision, will haunt me a lifetime.

The dark room glows with its own roaring sun, the light of the fire almost blinding amid the blackness. I lose sight of Alex, and as the heat intensifies, I run toward the only escape in the room.

Fire takes hold of the cabin with a punishing violence, consuming the dry, timeworn wood like rain drops in a parched desert. The walls crackle. Thick smoke billows down the stairway as I race ahead of the flames.

Panicked, I grab an armful of clothes from the cot. Using a shirt to cover my nose and mouth, I start toward the storm door, pausing at the stairway entrance just long enough to look for Alex.

A loud pop spits out, and I dash toward the basement stairs, using the key to unlock the chain and sliding the bar aside. I cough to clear my lungs as I make it free of the basement.

Looking back once, I watch the plumes of smoke rise into the morning sky like dark storm clouds. There’s no other way out. Alex is trapped in that blaze.

And I left him there.

A sick weight pulls at my stomach. With trembling hands, I slip on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, then I shove all doubt away as I follow the trail toward the other side of the river.

The fear of Alex emerging from behind a tree chases me at the corner of my mind. Every shadow, every snap of a twig, causes my heart rate to spike. It’s a twisted mix of dread and relief, and it forces my legs to move faster.

My bare feet hit every bramble and thorny vine, but the adrenaline coursing my bloodstream numbs the pain. My mind turns obsessive as I search for the truck.

Another loud explosion from the cabin that rattles the ground, and my foot hits a root. I trip and fall face-first into the dirt. Classic, I think, as I use the heels of my hands to push onto my knees. The final girl fleeing the bad guy trips during her escape.

A quick whip of guilt lashes at me. Alex was the villain. But that doesn’t make me the hero.

I left him.