The Evolution Trigger (Evolution Trigger Trilogy Book 1)

by C. S. Won

  “I said the longest rope you could find, you retard. How could you not—”

  “Enough!” Jae said. “How long is it going to take to get another length of rope?”

  “Shit, I don’t know. Five minutes, maybe ten? I’ll personally go myself, just to make sure this retard here doesn’t fuck up again,” Gabe said.

  Jae looked around. They didn’t have five minutes, let alone ten. He could see the light from the fire glowing underneath the bedroom door, inching closer and closer. Another five minutes and they would be consumed. He ran over to the window and leaned through. Too far, he thought. Falling twenty-four stories would cripple them, if not outright kill them. He turned around. The girl had crawled over to him, wrapping an arm around his knee. The puppy in her arms had grown silent. She looked at the dog with tears bubbling in her eyes, and then looked up at him. She had an expression of finality, as if she knew what was to come next.

  I won’t let it come to that.

  He made his way to the door and touched it. Warm but not hot, much to his surprise. Maybe, just maybe . . . If he hurried and ran through the gamut of her apartment, then maybe they’d have a shot at getting out of here alive. He could swaddle her in his turnout coat and protect her from the worst of the fire—and with her giving directions on where to go—he could make a beeline to the front door, then to the stairs, and from there, the exit. A crazy idea, but it was the only shot they had. He couldn’t afford to sit around and wait for Gabe to find a long enough rope. What if he couldn’t find one? Then they waited ten minutes for nothing, and their fate would surely be sealed. Sparring with the fire was the best shot they had.

  “Gabe,” Jae said. “I’m going to find a different way to get out of here.”

  “No, damn it, no. Just stay right there. I’ll have the rope in no time,” Gabe said.

  “I can’t wait, Gabe. Ten minutes is too long. Even five minutes is cutting it close. We’re going to die before you can even get back to the roof.”

  “What are you going to do, then? Jump?”

  “No, I’m going to go through her apartment, and from there, toward the exit.”

  “Are you insane? The fire will kill you once you step out her door. You won’t make it.”

  “The coat should be enough to protect us. As long as I’m careful and I hurry, we should be fine.”

  “I can’t sign off on this. This is too—”

  “This is the only option we have. I know you’re trying to get here as fast as you can, but it could be too late at that point. We’re sitting ducks here, and the longer I stay, the more likely that the girl and I will die.”

  “Damn it—”

  “Believe in me. I got this.”

  Silence. He knew Gabe hated the decision—anyone would, really—but Jae had to act, and since the chief appointed him as the lead of this operation, it was ultimately his call to make. Good or bad, Gabe had to accept Jae’s judgement.

  “Fuck,” Gabe said. “Just . . . hurry up, alright?”

  Jae crouched next to the girl and gripped her shoulders. “Lacy was your name, right?” The girl nodded. “I’m going to get out of here, Lacy, but I need you to do something for me, okay? I need you to tell me where your front door is. Can you do that for me?”

  The girl pointed ahead. “It’s not too far. Straight down the hall, then make a left. From there, the front door should be straight ahead.”

  He unhooked the breathing mask from his belt and switched on the oxygen tank. “We’re going to make a run for the front door. I’ll need you to hang onto me and never let go.” He showed her the mask. “You’re going to wear this. Just breathe in and out as you normally would. There will be times where I’ll need to take the mask off you so I can use it, but it won’t be for long, and I’ll warn you before I do so that you can prepare for it, okay?” The girl nodded. “Stand back, sweetheart, closer to the window. I’ll need to kick this door open.”

  The girl moved next to the window and crouched beneath it, clutching the unmoving puppy in her arms. Jae took a step back, pivoting his foot, and gave the stiffest kick he could muster. The door exploded in a shower of splintered wood, the bulk of which tumbled down the hallway in a flurry of somersaults. It ricocheted off the wall, kicking up a cloud of fire and ash, and spun even more until it finally found its place at the other end of the hall, nearly bisected.

  Jae gawked. He lifted his foot, turning it so he could get a good look at his boot. He’d kicked in his fair share of doors in his life but never with such force. Even in his most urgent moments, he’d never been able to tear a door off its hinges, never mind send it flying several yards away. He could see the imprint of his boot cratered into the center of the door, from the treads of his sole to the manufacturer’s insignia. How? Jae shook his head. It didn’t matter, not now, not when he had more pressing matters to attend to than theorizing on how he destroyed a door.

  He motioned the girl over. “Let’s get moving.” But she didn’t move. She stared at him with eyes as wide as saucer plates, like he was some sort of exotic animal caged in a zoo. The smoke didn’t even seem to faze her anymore. She let it wash over her like a morning fog. He went over to her and crouched beside her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? If you are then I need to know.”

  As if realizing someone was actually talking to her, she blinked and shook her head. “I’m okay.” She hugged him, squeezing him tight. “Please get me out of here.”

  He pulled the oxygen mask over her face, careful not to stub her nose or pull her hair. Her breath fogged the mask, and already he could see her mood change, the fresh influx of oxygen giving her new life. He lifted her off the ground and snuggled her inside his turnout coat, adjusting it so she was completely covered.

  He approached the open space where the door once stood and stared at the carnage seething before him. A rolling sea of flames awaited him, bloody-red tendrils roaring their cackling song. Half the floor was baptized by the fire and spreading quickly, laying waste to everything it touched. Jae’s margin for error was small, much like how it was when he came down to the girl’s window via rope. And just as before, the slightest deviation from the path he had to take could mean the difference between success and failure. He had to tread carefully but also be quick about it. A perfect balance had to be struck.

  He heard the girl whimpering inside his coat, the scent of her fear strong in his nose. He placed a comforting hand over her head and cooed soft words of assurance. Once she quieted down, he crouched, adjusted the helmet on his head so that it wouldn’t fall off, and then took off. Fire flashed by him from all sides, strands of angry flames eager to turn his body to dust. Visibility was poor and it was a struggle to breathe, the smoke growing thicker and more blinding as he progressed. Sweat covered his face in a muck of perspiration. Wiping it away did no good, as a new layer always formed to take the place of the first.

  End of the hall, then make a left, he reminded himself, invoking the directions given by the girl. The front door should be straight ahead after that.

  The two halves of the kicked-in door, now settled within the bosom of the fire, greeted him as he reached his first checkpoint. By the looks of it, he had grossly underestimated just how much damage he had done. A complex series of cracks, originating from the stamp of his boot, staked its claim across the entire length of each piece, scarring the wood and leaving not a single inch unscathed. To say he kicked the door away would be putting it too lightly; he had downright destroyed it. He couldn’t help but wonder how he was able to achieve such a feat, even as the hellfire swirled around him.

  The girl shifted in his coat. Focus.

  He turned left, just as the girl had said, and made his way down the hall. Hope grew in his heart that their escape would be hasty, but before he could take even a dozen steps he skidded to a halt. A mound of burning rubble blocked the way, a large pyre of smoldering debris stacked almost to the ceiling. It choked off the only path to the front door, barring the way like a portcullis. Jae wa
lked up the mound in disbelief, his hope fading fast. “No,” he said. He reached out, hoping that maybe he was just seeing things, but a lick of fire lashed out and snapped at his fingers, telling him that it was indeed real.

  He turned around and surveyed the scene behind him, checking to see if there was another possible route they could take. Maybe the girl was forgetful and neglected to mention a different way, but no alternate path presented itself, much to his dismay. He thought about going back to the girl’s room and taking his chances with Gabe, but the fire had grown wilder behind him, and he feared the worst would come to pass if he dared to trek back. What do I do?

  He flinched away from the fire, growling when a spark kissed his face. The apartment groaned around him. Time was running short. Something had to be done. A loud boom echoed behind him. He turned and saw the ceiling caving in a few yards away, throwing up a screeching cascade of fire and ash, chunks of twisted metal piling up high and snuffing out any possibility of going back. He turned and coughed, tears blotting his eyes.

  “No.” The word left his mouth in a meek whisper. They were trapped now, sandwiched in between two immovable mounds of burning rubble. To make matters worse, the fire seemed to grow even more emboldened, fueled by the very chaos it caused, strengthened by the ruin it started. He heard Gabe’s voice calling out from his radio, but measured up against the fire’s snarling wrath, his voice was nothing but a faint whisper, impossible to comprehend.

  What do I do?

  The girl began to whimper again. She shook in his arms, reeking of fear. Perhaps she sensed Jae’s escalating panic and felt the end was nigh. I can’t fail her. Think of something, damn it. He looked around, gritting his teeth through the fire and smoke, mind racing as he tried to formulate a solution—any solution—to his predicament. He looked at the burning rubble before him, watching it boil and burn.

  Somehow, his axe found its way into his hands. He wasn’t sure when he had taken it out, or for what reason. Perhaps he was driven by a need to hold onto something as the fire pressed in around him. Whatever it was, the axe was in his hands now, the sharp edges of the blade gleaming in the red light of the fire. He raised it up and ran a hand across the axe-head, the edges tickling the leather of his gloves.

  I wonder . . .

  “Sweetheart,” he said, releasing the girl from his coat. He set her down against the floor, far away from the great pyre looming before them. She looked around, gawking at the fire teeming all around her. “You have nothing to worry about. We’re going to get out of here, I promise.” He shrugged off his coat and draped it around her, insulating her against the fire. “I’ll need to borrow the mask, but only for a second. You’ll have it back almost immediately.”

  The girl hesitated for a moment, eyes barely visible behind the visor of the mask. He smiled at her, displaying his confidence, hoping that it was enough to break through her fear. She finally relented, pulling the mask away from her face.

  “What are you going to do?” She handed him the mask.

  “Fight,” he said, pushing the mask onto his face. Relief washed over him as clean, cool oxygen filled his lungs. He still needed to save much of it for the girl, so he quickly pulled it away, but what he was able to take gave him the second wind that he needed for what was coming ahead. He hooked the mask over the girl’s face.

  “I want you to stay a few feet behind me. This could get messy,” he said.

  The girl nodded and did as she was told, crawling to an unmarked spot behind him. With the fire roaring at her back, he had to hurry and work without pause or hesitation. There would be no rest until he was finished.

  He approached the burning rubble. The flames grew more savage, as if they sensed what he was about to do, barking at him in an attempt to deter him from his task. Jae gripped the axe handle with both hands, shifted his back foot into a wide stance, and lifted the axe high above his head. He let out a yell, the sound echoing in the small space they occupied, and swung the axehead down as hard as he could.

  A thunderous clang reverberated through the air. A gaping wound tore through the rubble, which was severed nearly in two. So clean was the gash that Jae could see the front door peeking through, tantalizingly close. That surprised him, as he didn’t expect to inflict so much damage so easily and quickly. Perhaps he had misjudged the firmness of the rubble, overrating its durability. Whatever the reason, it filled him with confidence, and he lifted the axe and swung it again. It bore an even deeper cut. Burning wood and concrete and ashes flew about in all directions. Is it supposed to be this easy? The great mound that once stood before him didn’t seem so great anymore. It had no defense against the blows he administered, wilting underneath the might of his strikes. He expected more than this, at least a struggle of sorts, but there was none of that. It was like he was chopping firewood in his backyard, carefree and easy.

  He took a deep breath in and hefted the axe high over his head, bringing it down against the rubble once more. The final blow, as it turned out. The path cleared. All it had taken was a few concentrated swings of the axe. Unbelievable, he thought, letting the axe fall limp at his side. He didn’t expect to finish so quickly—he didn’t expect to finish at all, in fact. Yet, here he stood, having conquered what he previously thought was the impossible, staring at a valley carved out by the great divider of his axe. It was, admittedly, a jagged and uneven path, but it was wide enough for Jae and the little girl to step through. That was good enough.

  He heard the sounds of another great collapse somewhere in the distance. Sheathing his axe, he picked the girl up and held her against his torso, shielding her with the turnout coat. She clung on tight, arms circled around his neck. He stooped low and ran through the cut pathway as quickly as he could, ignoring the fire that whipped at his face. The smoke had grown even more profuse, obfuscating his vision, clogging his throat, burning his lungs. He yearned to take another hit of the oxygen mask, hungry for its cleansing air, but he suppressed the urge and soldiered on, knowing that the girl needed it more than he did.

  The front door shimmered out of the smoke, just within reach. He increased his pace, turned his shoulder sideways, and threw himself into the door. The door exploded upon impact, the force of his charge shattering it into three large pieces. He landed against the wall out in the hallway. Each piece of the door had tumbled away in different directions.

  Jae shook his head. The bitter taste of ash and sweat danced on his tongue. The world spun. Exhaustion washed over him, but he refused to succumb to the temptation of rest. His spirit wouldn’t allow it, not when there was important work yet to be done. He stood on weary legs, peeling away from the wall. An imprint of his shoulder was ingrained into the wall. He checked on the girl: still okay. He made his way to the staircase at the other end of the hall, breaking into a sprint as the fire flashed past him in red streaks.

  The staircase came into view to his right just a few yards away, slick with fire. He increased his stride and took a sharp turn at the top of the stairs, gripping the railing to help with the pivot, and made his descent two steps at a time, with the chaos fast fading behind him. He dared to hope that the worst had come to pass, that his trials had ended and he wouldn’t have to suffer any longer, but that hope was snuffed out when he came to a sudden stop at the edge of a gaping hole.

  “Shit!”

  A large bulk of the staircase was gone, as if it was never there to begin with. Only empty, smoking space remained. He peered over the edge, the tip of his feet poking just over the abyss. The remnants of the stairs were piled together in a mass of ruin and fire several floors below. The flames must have been too great for the stairs to endure.

  He shuffled back a few steps, trying his best not to panic. Panicking would have been the easy thing to do, and nobody would have blamed him for it, but he had to keep his composure. Showing his fear would frighten the girl, and the last thing he needed was a child on the verge of hysterics. Even so, he cursed his bad luck and looked around for an opening—a
window he could squeeze through or a fire escape he had unwittingly passed by—but nothing viable presented itself.

  He looked over the edge again and scanned the floor below to see if there was anything that could give him just the smallest glimmer of hope, something that could make him foolishly believe that he still had a chance. Almost as if his prayers were being answered, he saw an exit sign flashing red near the corner of the hallway, close to the base of the stairs but still over the fiery chasm.

  He was all at once optimistic and distraught. Escape was just ahead, but with the stairs destroyed, it might as well have been on a different planet. It had to be a cruel trick of fate to have his escape just beyond the destroyed pathway. But he saw no other way; he had to go forward, even if forward meant taking a literal leap of faith. Could he make it? Maybe, but he didn’t think it likely. The distance from the top to the bottom seemed a mile away from where he was standing. If he failed, a screaming death in the chasm below awaited him, a prospect that gave him pause. But what other choice did he have? If he stayed, death was a guarantee. If he jumped, then at least death would only be uncertain.

  He pulled the girl away from him. She had been crying, cheeks wet with tears. “Honey, I’m going to need you to close your eyes and hold on tight.”

  The girl turned in his grip, eyes widening when she saw the chasm opening up before her.

  “What are you going to do?” She asked.

  “Do you trust me?”

  She stayed silent, and then finally nodded. He smoothed the hair from her face and smiled at her. “I’ll let you know when you can open your eyes.”

  The girl nodded and buried her head in his shoulder. Jae wrapped her back up with the turnout coat. He stood up and took in a few deep breaths, letting his nerves settle. He stepped back until he touched the wall, and readied himself, leaning forward on his front leg and planting his back leg far behind him, almost in a sprinter’s position. His legs strained with tension, muscles tingling in anticipation of the task ahead. An image of Madeline appeared before him, as did his mother, father, brother, Gabe, and the others, fond memories bubbling up to the surface. If this was to be his last moment on earth, then he wanted to leave himself with happy thoughts.