Set the Sky on Fire (Fire Trilogy Book 1)

by L K Walker

  Set the Sky

  on Fire

  L K Walker

  Copyright © 2016 by L K Walker

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the publisher

  except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing, 2016

  ISBN 978-0-473-37037-4 (Softcover)

  ISBN 978-0-473-37038-1 (EPUB)

  ISBN 978-0-473-37039-8 (Kindle)

  ISBN 978-0-473-37040-4 (IBook)

  Wandering Lost Books

  New Zealand

  www.lkwalkerauthor.com

  This book is for Mum.

  Thanks for believing in me,

  even when I don’t.

  Seattle 1892

  one

  two

  three

  four

  five

  six

  seven

  eight

  nine

  ten

  eleven

  twelve

  thirteen

  fourteen

  fifteen

  sixteen

  seventeen

  eighteen

  nineteen

  twenty

  twenty-one

  twenty-two

  twenty-three

  twenty-four

  twenty-five

  twenty-six

  twenty-seven

  twenty-eight

  twenty-nine

  thirty

  thirty-one

  thirty-two

  thirty-three

  thirty-four

  thirty-five

  epilogue

  Seattle 1892

  Maggie looked at her blistered, raw hands. She had sat on the same plank of wood for hours, drawing patterns in the sawdust with a discarded bolt. Every so often, a gust of wind would join in, swirling the dust around the floor in small vortexes before settling it back into a heap. Her limbs ached. She scowled at the concrete block, as heavy as her petite frame, which had taken hours to inch to the buildings edge.

  Shafts of light glimmered through the grey dawn, illuminating her surrounds. The framework of the sixth floor looked solid and secure, with cast iron columns and steel beams outlining the walls and ceiling. The absence of exterior walls gave her a small sense of freedom. The building was nearing completion, and this floor would soon be closed in with the same beautiful Romanesque masonry that covered the lower floors.

  She sat near the edge, looking down at the magnificence of the city, amazed at how far it had come since fire had gutted the whole area only a couple of years before.

  Maggie had few regrets, but she did wish she could say goodbye to William and hold her baby one last time. Even if she could pen him a note, one to show their beautiful daughter when she grew up. Absentmindedly, she wrote William’s name in the dust, encasing it in a heart before scuffing it back to an empty canvas with her foot.

  All this will soon enough be over. The thought brought no joy, only a sense of inevitability.

  For hours, she had wept, but the tears had long since dried up. Now, all she felt was exhaustion and acceptance.

  Maggie squirmed on her makeshift seat. The chain, locked around her ankle, clinked as she moved. She gave it one last, futile tug. It held tight. The man who had fastened it had made sure of that.

  Her thoughts trailed off to William again. They had both believed they would be safe in Seattle. The months they had spent travelling to get here had been harrowing, but they had been so happy to arrive, to start their new life. And she loved him. Even now, his name could bring her a smile.

  Maggie’s parents had disowned her, ashamed she had run off with a man, unmarried and with child. She’d been the talk of the town. Perhaps, she thought, it will be a relief for them when she was no more. They had always considered her to be strange, but then she wasn’t their true child. Her birth mother had been institutionalised when Maggie was only a year old. If they hadn’t been so desperate for a child, her adoptive parents might have thought twice about taking in the offspring of a crazed and fallen woman. But their real fears had started when Maggie was three. They said she mimicked her mother’s crazy behaviour—reading other people’s feelings and, worse still, talking about them. According to her father, the act was grossly meddlesome and ungodly.

  Maggie knew she scared them, but she loved them anyway and would give anything to see them again to say sorry. To say goodbye.

  He’s coming.

  The clatter of the elevator’s ascent confirmed her intuition. It sent a wave of panic rippling through Maggie’s entire being. She took a deep breath. This was the moment she had been planning for—hoping it would never come. She stood up, forcing her shoulders back.

  This is my choice.

  Cold and alone she stood, knowing that these moments were her last.

  Just breathe.

  As the elevator door opened, it brought a bright light. The luminescence tore through the sixth floor. She flinched at the strong silhouette of the man who stood there.

  “I appreciate you doing as you are told and remaining here,” the man taunted.

  “Was there ever another option?” She tugged defiantly at the chains holding her.

  A smile underscored his cruelty. Maggie had witnessed the pleasure this man found in the pain he could so easily inflict. He had made her part of it, and images of people she had hurt scarred her consciousness, a grim reminder of her complicity.

  “It is time to unleash your gift on this world, my precious little girl.”

  “Why do you ask it? You know I would never…” She didn’t get a chance to finish.

  “After everything, you still think you can say no?” He goaded her.

  She shook her head.

  “Don’t you wish your young man had taken his responsibilities more seriously? When he found out what you are, he should have killed you. But his heart got the better of him. Tell me, did he say he loved you?” It pained her to hear him talk about William.

  “He does love me.”

  “Yet look what he has allowed to happen.”

  “This is your doing, no-one else’s.”

  “You say it as if I should be ashamed.”

  “You should burn in hell.” She paused and looked down at her shaking hands before clenching them with final determination. “I won’t help you,” she declared, her words soft.

  Anger roiled in his eyes, his voice boomed in the eerie, open space. “You have no choice.”

  “There’s always a choice.” She shuffled back towards the edge. “And you’re right. William should have killed me when he found out what my gift could do.”

  “Touching.” His teeth clenched as his lips rolled over the word.

  “But what you don’t understand is that I love him too. And I would do anything for him. Even the things he can’t.”

  “What are you jabbering about?” Confusion marred his perfect face.

  “There’s always another way, sometimes you just need to look a little harder.” She now stood at the very edge of the building. A single tear adorned her face like a priceless jewel. The wind gently flapped the bottom of her dress, slapping it against the chain. Maggie leant over and pulled away the wooden wedge that held the concrete block from falling off the top floor of Seattle’s highest building. It teetered for a second before starting its descent.

  “This is my choice,” she screamed at him before the block dragged her off the building.

  As she had anticipated, the man flung himself
after her, crossing the space between them in a fraction of a second, grabbing her out of thin air. Maggie wrapped her legs around him, tangling him in the chain that attached her to the concrete block.

  Together, they fell.

  The man shrieked in her ear on the way down, but it was a cry from the ground that took her attention. She turned her head to see William staring up at her, their baby resting in his arms.

  Without abandoning her gaze, he knelt to the ground, placing the child off to one side, ready for the unconsciousness that would overtake him.

  Maggie’s last act on earth was to smile at her love, and through the tears that came to his eyes, William smiled back.

  one

  Christchurch 2016

  It had been a long time since she last blinked. When it finally came, Ari’s lids slid down, dragging across dry retinas. Again, eyes wide open, she lay awake, staring up at the ceiling.

  Come on, she moaned, sleep. Ari tried to calm her breathing to match Nevaeh’s snores, which echoed from the room beside hers. It didn’t work, like trying to compete with a ticking clock. Sleep was a lost cause. A heavy sigh fled her lips.

  Ari, too busy fighting for sleep, nearly missed the gradual decline of her thoughts into a plethora of dark imaginings. Her mind resisted, wrestling with them, trying to banish them or, at least, cram them away where she didn’t have to deal with their insidious imagery. It was like having a nightmare, but she was fully conscious.

  Anger took hold, blocking out any other thought. An uncontrollable rage flooded her mind. She wanted to cry or scream—either—both—anything to rid herself of the emotions. Terror swept over her. The sound of blood pounding through veins filled her ears.

  Adrenaline made her heart thump like a maddened lover at the door. The blanket that previously comforted in the cooler night now suffocated. Heavy, it pinned her to the bed, constricting her chest. She clawed at it, trying to relieve the strain, fighting to bring back some control. Tears pooled behind her eyes, threatening to spill. Her stomach curdled as emotions twisted their way into her psyche.

  What is wrong with me? Perhaps it's the alcohol or—or maybe someone spiked my drink. But Ari knew neither would cause this reaction. She rubbed her face. The feelings were still there, still waiting, when her eyelids slid open again. Frustrated, she threw the bed sheets back, the movement disturbingly brutal.

  “Leave me alone.” The sound swept from her lips.

  As if on cue, elation streamed in, not taking the place of the darkness but intermingling with it. The terror began to ease. She managed to gain some semblance of control, sitting up, forcing herself to focus. These feelings… She struggled for greater restraint. These feelings aren’t mine.

  “They're not mine,” she whispered, as if hearing the words made them more believable. The feelings came from outside of her, outside the room. Ari tried to follow their path. She slipped out of bed and slunk across the floor. The floorboards were cold underfoot and gently groaned as her weight shifted over them. Her hand parted the curtain, just enough to catch a glimpse of the backyard.

  The moon was sitting high in the sky and its soft white light gave the garden an eerie coating.

  It's nothing. There’s nothing there. She let out the breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. Perhaps I’m losing it. Lost in confusion, she stood there a while longer, eyes adjusting to the light. That’s when she saw the movement, as it shifted in her periphery.

  What the hell was that?

  As her eyes gained focus, shapes emerged. They were unmistakable. Two figures, masked by the darkness, silhouetted in the soft light. They stood side-on to her, facing each other, both on guard, knees bent, leaning forward as if ready to lunge. Where the moon touched skin it glistened, the play of light and shadow defining the heavy musculature of their bodies. Neither made a move.

  Hide.

  Ari’s body didn't respond. Transfixed, she stood there, watching, lost somewhere between fear and excitement. Her skin tightened, and her heart raced as she leant in closer over the dresser, widening the gap in the curtain for a better view.

  One of the shadows moved, taking a step to his right, shifting out of Ari's line of sight. She leant in further, the metal of the brass lamp cold through her thin singlet as she pushed up against it. For the briefest of moments, it teetered on the edge of balance before its weight pitched it off the dresser. The chime of reverberating brass shattered the silence.

  Startled, Ari looked up. She was sure their heads now pointed in her direction, that their eyes stared through the open curtain. Fear turned her lungs to stone, the weight crushing her chest making it near impossible to breathe.

  Neither figure moved.

  She took a step back, retreating into the sanctuary of the bedroom. Increasing the distance between herself and the threatening menace was instinctual. She took another step backwards and, in haste, stood on a shoe she had kicked off earlier in the night. She screamed as her ankle twisted sending pain ripping up her right leg. It gave way beneath her, and she tumbled backwards onto the bed. The curtain, released from her grip, swung back into place, cloaking the figures in the garden. She lay stunned, too petrified to move, too afraid to make any sound.

  Willing her limbs to shift, she pushed herself up. The bed groaned in protest, making her flinch. She carefully rose and edged towards the window again. Her hand shook as she drew the curtain back.

  The garden was deserted.

  Ari looked around, furiously trying to make out whether anything foreign still lurked in the backyard; a moving form or a face staring back at her from the shadows. But the only face she could see was her own reflected in the window.

  There was no noise. No movement. Just an empty garden.

  *****

  Ari crept into Nevaeh’s room, softly shook her friend's shoulders and whispered, “Nevaeh, wake up.”

  Nevaeh’s response did nothing to lessen Ari's fear.

  “Whaa...” The loud eruption an intruder in the silence.

  “Shush, be quiet. Just wake up,” Ari tried again, panic tainting her words.

  “Whaa … What ya want?” Nevaeh was still loud, but at least she was a little more responsive.

  “I think I just saw two people in your yard.” Ari’s voice trembled.

  “Stop shaking me—feel crap.”

  “Did you hear me?” Ari tried to break through the drunken haze. “I think I saw people in your yard.”

  Nevaeh drifted back to sleep. Ari tried again. All she got were stifled profanities thrown at her. She crept back to her room, flicked on the light and scouted around for some sort of weapon. The best she could find was an old hockey stick tucked away among the junk in the cupboard. With the stick in hand, she flicked the light back off and felt her way around the room until she bumped into the bed. She slipped back under the covers and lay motionless, in case the rustling of the bed sheets drowned out any noise from outside. Ears straining to hear anything out of the ordinary, Ari replayed what had happened over and over in her head.

  During the next hour, as she tried to comprehend whether or not they had been real, the events seemed to drift further away. Adrenaline drained from her and with it any hope of staying awake. Her eyelids drooped. She fought for a while, but it became harder and harder to remain convinced she had not just imagined it. The resolve to keep her eyes open started to weaken. She let them slide shut, her mind quieting as she fell into a restless sleep peppered with images that randomly flipped between the sinister and the benign.

  two

  The soft peach tones of dawn settled through the curtains, when Ari teased her eyelids open, just enough to check her watch. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep, so she let them close again. Flutters of emotion were back, but muted, dancing around the edge of her consciousness. There was no way she was going to fall back to sleep with her mind buzzing again. Grudgingly, she dragged herself out of bed. Her body felt agitated and her nerves raw. She threw the curtains open and looked out at the garden
. Now, the pillar-like streaks of daylight made her fears seem ridiculous. Still, they persisted.

  Well, as long as I'm up, she thought, Nevaeh might as well be too.

  She crept into Nevaeh’s room. A wall of vaporised alcohol drenched her nose as she stepped through the doorway. Her friend looked comfortable and she was still snoring, although the sound was less discordant than last night. Her dark brown curls peppered the pillow, and her face looked peaceful and serene. Ari grabbed hold of a thick curl and tickled Nevaeh’s face with it.

  “Don't be a dick,” came a muffled voice from the pillow.

  “Come on, get up. You'll need the extra hour to shake the booze off before work.”

  Lucky for Nevaeh, her job at the garden centre wasn’t as taxing as Ari’s gig at the supermarket. Still, work hadn’t been her reason for taking it easy on the booze last night. Being polite to customers while hungover didn’t come easy, but saving money on alcohol and taxis was the real motivator. If it hadn’t had been her eighteenth birthday, Nevaeh would have been penny pinching too. They were saving up for a two-week holiday in Thailand at the end of the school term—it was going to be epic.

  Ari gave Nevaeh a gentle dig in the ribs. She jerked, as if she had been electrocuted.

  “I'll make us a hearty, hangover breakfast. Got any eggs?”

  “You're an egg,” Nevaeh shot back before pushing herself up onto her knees. In one fluid motion, she grabbed her pillow and clobbered Ari with it. The smirk of satisfaction disappeared as she let out a low moan, her hands flying to her head, holding it still.

  “Oh, God. I've got the fiercest little gremlin ramming a steel spike into my brain.”

  “Yep, if you weren't hungover after all that booze, you would be the next step in the evolution of humans,” Ari said in a voice louder than it needed to be.

  “Oh, jeez Ari, it hurts like crap. So, did I make a huge dick of myself? Please tell me I didn't end up dancing topless like Kate did that time.”

  “Well, you did show off your ...” Nevaeh’s eyes widened in horror. “…dinner to a few people.”