Her eyes grew as she noticed the acrid smell. She sniffed the air, her lip curling. ‘Oh,’ she gasped, whirling on Jack. ‘What are you doing?’ She staggered past my uncle, making a beeline for the stove.
Another metallic thump sounded and the floor reverberated. The lock on the door came unhinged.
My mother reached one of the burners. Jack dived at her. He grabbed her by the elbow and jerked her backwards, slamming her head against the island. She slid to the ground, leaving a streak of blood against the wood.
I screamed so hard into Donata’s hand that I almost suffocated myself. My knees buckled but she held me up, propped against her.
Jack yanked the gas line out from behind the stove and ripped it from the wall. It popped with a hiss and the air around it started furrowing. Coughing with violent force, Jack grabbed me and pulled me backwards, floundering across the kitchen, away from the fumes as they surged around us.
Donata took the duffel bag and retreated into the serving section as my uncle crushed me against him. My mother was lying in a sprawled heap between the stove and the island.
‘Let me go!’ I shrieked. ‘Let me help her!’
He held me inside the kitchen doorway, our backs to the diner, our faces to the metal door as it swung open. Through the thickness of the gas, Luca and Nic appeared in the doorway and every shred of hope inside me shrivelled up and died.
The alleyway stretched into the darkness behind them, where the dumpster had been tipped on its side. Trash was strewn everywhere. Wind and rain swept into the room, and the raging storm grew piercing and loud around us.
The Falcone brothers raised their guns.
In a flash, Jack manoeuvred me in front of him until I could feel his chin against my head, his noisy exhales rippling through my hair. ‘Go on,’ said Jack. ‘Shoot at us, why don’t you?’
Luca lowered his gun.
Nic hesitated.
The moment seemed to stretch interminably. In that instant, when even the thunder seemed to quell, my whole life rested at the mercy of Nic Falcone’s trigger finger. I looked inside the barrel of his gun, studying those two black circles, one delicately poised above the other, and felt the nearness of my own death.
‘Nicoli,’ warned Luca.
Nic’s arm was twitching. ‘I can still get him.’
‘Nicoli.’
My eyes were spiking with tears. ‘The gas,’ I rasped. ‘The gas is on.’
Nic’s gaze grew wide with understanding. Finally, he noticed the smell, the thickness in the air, and he flinched. He lowered his gun.
The door slammed shut behind them, teetering on broken hinges.
‘You’re scum, using them like this,’ said Luca to Jack. He was inching forward, moving without trying to make it look obvious. ‘You’ll have to walk out of here sooner or later, and when you do we’ll get you.’
‘You wouldn’t risk her life.’
He raised his eyebrows, his feet sliding soundlessly towards us. ‘And you would?’
Jack’s grip tightened, his arm clamped against my throat until I was choking. The lights in my brain were flickering, the edges of my vision blotting with black smudges.
Dimly I saw my mother’s hand clutching the island as she tried to lift herself from the floor. Her hair was streaked with blood but her mouth was moving, slowly, testing out syllables.
‘Do you want to find out what I’m capable of, filth?’ said Jack.
Luca curled his lip. ‘I’ll gut you, Marino.’
Jack shifted with alarming speed, pushing me backwards through the door. I tumbled into the main diner as he slammed the kitchen door behind us.
‘Mom!’ I screamed as Donata appeared from the darkness behind me and flicked her Zippo lighter through the server window.
The blast erupted in a flash of bright orange. It ripped across the kitchen, exploding in a resounding boom that shattered all the windows. The walls shook and I was thrown backwards, across the till counter and on to the diner floor.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
INFERNO
The kitchen was bursting with flames. Dark, grey smoke billowed out through the serving window. The wood was crackling, breaking off into huge splinters that plummeted towards the floor.
Behind me, Jack and Donata had made it to the front entrance with the duffel bag. My uncle’s hair was singed, his face blackened from the blast. He was doubled over, clutching the doorframe. ‘Come on!’ he panted at me. ‘We have to get out of here!’
‘My mom’s in there!’
I stumbled towards the kitchen, screaming.
Howling.
Shrieking her name.
‘She’s gone, girl,’ Donata shouted.
Jack’s voice arced above hers. ‘Come on!’
I ignored them, and this time my uncle didn’t come back for me. They charged into the night, their bounty won.
Through the serving window I could see a thick wall of flames splitting the kitchen in two. It was licking the right-hand side by the stove and spreading along the wooden countertops, devouring the tablecloths and cork board. I pushed closer, my eyes watering against the scalding heat.
Nic and Luca were slumped against each other on the other side of the room. They had been flung backwards in the explosion. Luca’s head lolled against his shoulder. His eyes were glazed. Nic was doubled over beside him. He wasn’t moving either.
My mother wasn’t with them. She had been close by the door when the explosion hit, and I strained to see if she had made it into the darkness, but the alley was impossibly far away and my vision was blurry from the thickness of the fire. I called out to her but the flames rallied against my words, swallowing them.
Grabbing a cloth from under the counter and holding it over my face, I wrenched the kitchen door open and the fire surged towards me, knocking me backwards. I covered my face as I skidded across the ground, hitting my head on the back of the counter. The doorway was a block of thick, black smoke, rolling over my head and out into the diner.
I rose to my knees and pushed through the doorway, keeping my head bent low beneath the smoke, and the rag tight against my mouth. The air was torturously dry and my lungs felt like they were crumbling inwards, blackened and parched. My mother wasn’t inside – I couldn’t see her through the flames and the smoke. I realized that soon she would be looking for me. I had to get out before she came back in. I ignored the burning in my chest and set a course for the boys, keeping left against the wall as I crawled across the hot tiles.
The fire roared like an untamed beast, surging ever closer as I pulled my body across the floor, cutting my hands on glass as jars popped and splintered around me. The back door had been blown off its hinges in the explosion. The alleyway beyond winked at me through crests of amber.
When I reached the boys Luca was half-conscious, his head bobbing off his chest as he tried to lift it. Nic was still crumpled in half. I grabbed Luca by the shoulders, shaking him.
‘Luca!’ I slapped him across the face. ‘Wake up!’
He started to stir, his eyes igniting with a dull flicker of recognition.
I shook him again. ‘Get up! We have to get out.’
The fire was creeping closer to our huddled circle, the flames growing hot against my back. Pots and pans were clanging to the ground, rolling against my ankles, and putrid smells were filling the air.
Luca was coughing violently. I pulled him by the shoulders and he pitched forwards, dragging himself to his knees.
We turned to Nic, scrabbling on either side of him. Luca lifted his brother’s crumpled torso up so that he was facing forwards. His eyes were shut and his forehead was mussed with black. Luca shook him, his movements frantic with dawning horror. What if he didn’t wake up? What if the blast had been too much for him?
I squeezed Nic’s hand to try and rouse him. Luca was shouting, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. I grabbed Nic’s wrist and struggled to find his pulse. It ebbed faintly beneath my fingers.
Th
ere was an almighty smash behind me, and I lurched forwards as a light fixture split in half and came crashing to the ground. Shards embedded themselves in the backs of my arms.
I still couldn’t hear Luca, but I could read his lips. ‘We have to move him!’
I crawled over Nic’s body and grabbed his left arm as Luca took hold of his right. We heaved together, falling on to our haunches and dragging him with us. I gritted my teeth, spluttering as smoke choked the oxygen from our lungs. We pushed backwards, where the flames were charring the presses above the stove. Nic was impossibly heavy. His arms and legs splayed against the floor, lolling over ash and dust as we inched towards the doorway. My eyes were so sore I could barely keep them open, but I could feel the coolness rippling somewhere nearby. We were almost there. If we could just make it to the threshold, my mother would help us pull him outside.
A cupboard burst into an explosion of orange and red and I jumped to the side. Luca twisted and fell against me. Nic’s legs began to twitch. He lifted his head and it fell backwards until he was staring up at the ceiling. He blinked quickly, trying to orient himself. His mouth was falling open, and his chest lurched as he spluttered black mucus on to his shirt.
I could feel the cool air on the back of my neck. Just five more steps. Ignore the heat. Don’t think about the pain. And then we were out, stumbling backwards into soaked trash and splashing puddles. Nic was on his side, his hand pressed against the dirt, trying to steady himself as he retched. Luca had doubled over against the dumpster.
I lifted my head, squinting into the darkness. All I could see was red. The fire had robbed me of my senses. I blinked hard. There was nothing but trash, and me and Nic and Luca. And … there was no one else.
‘Mom?’ I floundered into the alley as I scanned the darkness, the flames still imprinting in my vision like stencils. ‘Mom?’
There was no moisture in my throat, no energy left to move my tongue. She couldn’t hear me, not over the thunder and the fire and … it didn’t matter. Because she wasn’t here – she wasn’t outside. She wasn’t here!
I turned around. The doorway was half-enveloped by flames but I could see a way into the smoke. I was small enough to clear it. I charged, throwing myself into the amber hole and spreadeagling myself across the ground.
Behind me, Luca was screaming my name.
I set my sights on the island in the centre. Hungry flames were choking down its wooden base. There was a narrow passageway but the unlit space was dwindling rapidly. I started crawling towards the island, circling the pocket of fire. Already, my cheeks were scalded red-raw and my eyelids were beginning to droop. My head felt heavy, rolling forwards from my neck. But I could swear I heard a voice, a quiet tinkling amidst the inferno. Was she calling my name?
I forced myself further into the heat. Was that her shoe, right there, through the flames? Had she been wearing sneakers? I forced my eyes open, searching for the mirage. I was beaten back again, the heat pouring over me like boiling water. The fire was at my elbows, stabbing me.
I reached the other side of the island. Someone was definitely calling my name. Was it her? Was I close? I could only see the floor, tiles mussed with smudges of black. The countertops had collapsed on themselves, shooting splinters of wood into the centre of the kitchen. Knives and forks nipped and jabbed at me as I crawled over them. Trickles of blood trailed down my arms and sizzled in the heat.
There. That foot again. I was trapped behind the flames, and the spark of white rubber was unmoving.
‘Mom,’ I called out, but there was nothing but smoke spluttering out of me. The room was pressing down on me, pinning me to the floor.
Somewhere over my shoulder, someone was yelling at me. It wasn’t her. It was harder, deeper, further away. I was fixating on the shoe, trying to keep my eyes open. It was impossible. Everything was amber. Searing, white-hot, burning, shrieking amber. I was choking, but if I could just get to that shoe, I could grab her leg. I could wake her up. She would come back to me. We would crawl out of here together.
The shouting soared above the fire. There was so much screaming and it was closer now. Was it coming from me? From her? I could barely tell.
Where did the shoe go?
There!
I lunged but the fire soared, whipping at me, and I collapsed behind the flames. My lungs filled with smoke and I gasped, my body lurching for fresh air. There was none. I pulled my head up, searching, but it was too heavy. It flopped back down.
Her foot had disappeared behind streams of red and orange. Had it been a foot at all?
Something cracked and I was forced down, my cheeks smashing against the floor. I had lost direction. It hurt to suck in what little air was left. The flames were surrounding me in a circle. Which way was out? I scrabbled across the tiles, shrinking tight into a ball. I could feel the flames licking at my bare skin.
‘Mom!’
Nothing came out.
‘Someone help us!’
Clammy hands grabbed my ankles, pulling me backwards. Was she behind me? I couldn’t remember what direction she was in. Voices surged around me. There was yelling, arguing. The hands didn’t belong to her – these hands were coarse, their grip tight against my seething skin.
I clawed forward again, dropping my body against the floor. The hands were pulling me back. They moved to my waist and then my shoulders. I coasted backwards, my body scraping off the tiles.
‘No,’ I gasped. ‘No. No.’
A sliver of warm air rushed into my lungs, but everything was still glowing. The ground was cool against my cheek. My eyelids drooped. I would rest here, just for a moment. I would let sleep take me from this nightmare. I was in a dream, and the dream was scalding me alive.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
SIRENS
Wind beat down on my weathered body. I lurched and something rolled down my chin. The air was too cold to choke in. My head felt like it was splitting in two. Aches pulsed through my limbs, sticking me to the ground.
Think. Concentrate. I tried to switch my brain back on.
The ground was rough beneath my legs. The pressure was gone from my chest. The back of my head was scratching against something. I was on my back. Yes.
The lights behind my eyes were still blazing, but the roaring was somewhere behind me. The heat was close, but not like it was before. Wind was pushing hair across my face. It stuck to my lips. Drops of water pricked my cheeks. It was raining. I was outside. Yes. There was a chorus of new sounds soaring into the night.
Sirens. I tried to imagine what a siren was. Ambulances. Fire trucks. Police cars. We were safe.
‘Sophie!’ That familiar voice, silky like honey. Nic. Yes, that’s right. Nic is here.
There was more noise – clanging, shouting. There were discussions – serious, angry discussions. A female voice. ‘Sophie? Sophie, can you hear me?’
My mother?
No. Not her.
There were more words, important words, falling around my ears. I strained to listen. Smoke inhalation. Gas leak. Explosion. One more. One more left. One more left inside.
My attention snapped. I was falling away from reality, into something else. My limbs stopped aching. Everything was weightless. The voices were drifting far away from me, the warmth barely reaching me now.
I fell down, down into blackness.
And then light was flickering. My mother’s voice beckoned me towards her. The fire surrounded her, but it wasn’t hot any more.
‘Sophie? Can you hear me?’
I stumbled forwards, falling at her feet. She knelt down to me, her big blue eyes swarming with tears. Her lips were moving but I couldn’t hear her voice. ‘Sophie, can you open your eyes for me?’
She pulled me into her. I wrapped my arms around her neck, expecting the softness of her hair and the gentle scent of her lavender perfume. Her arms were like reeds, slimy and cold. They fell away, withering to the ground. I frowned, pulling back. Her hair was stringy and damp, her perfume like we
t earth. I tasted ash in my mouth. I blinked and her face disappeared. I turned and the blackness engulfed me.
‘Sophie?’
Inside, my body cracked and splintered. Heat surged through me, scalding me. Outside, my arms and legs sprawled in puddles, shaking with cold.
Where was she?
Where was I?
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
TRAGEDY
GAS EXPLOSION DESTROYS FAMILY
DINER; OWNER’S WIFE PERISHES IN FIRE
One person was killed and three more were injured in an explosion and resulting fire that levelled local family diner, Gracewell’s, in Cedar Hill on Sunday night.
Celine Gracewell, wife of owner Michael Gracewell, was present at the time of the explosion, and was pronounced dead at the scene. Her daughter, along with two of her friends, was also inside the restaurant. It is reported that Gracewell’s daughter attempted to go back into the fire to rescue her mother, but was unable to.
Preliminary investigations suggest a gas leak was to blame for the destruction, setting off a fire which spread rapidly through the rest of the building. Police have yet to determine an official cause for the explosion, and investigations are ongoing. They are also looking to talk to Jack Gracewell, acting manager of the diner, who has been not been contactable since the incident.
Located on the corner of Foster and Oak in downtown Cedar Hill, Gracewell’s has been a favourite family establishment for over fifteen years.
Celine Gracewell, 43, a local dressmaker and part-owner of the establishment, was standing close to the gas leak at the time of the blast, and lost her life on impact, it has been reported. Since the explosion, neighbours and friends have been leaving tributes at the site. As city workers and electric utility experts tore through the rubble this morning, many gathered in the street to pay their respects.
Ursula Nguyen, assistant manager at the diner for ten years, was inconsolable as she laid her wreath among the others. Of Celine Gracewell, she said, ‘She was a wonderful person. Always smiling, always happy. It’s such a loss for the whole neighborhood. I’m devastated for her daughter.’
Inferno (Blood for Blood #2) Page 26
