First One In Last One Out

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First One In Last One Out Page 6

by Laura Marie Henion


  Stephanie clenched her teeth then grabbed the sketchpad and her drawing pencil.

  Hours later, Redding stood naked by the small square window. He could see the hooker's pimp get out of his ‘pimp mobile’ and make his way to the building. It was time for the trash to leave.

  Redding took a puff from his cigarette and kicked the dirty mattress and the bed.

  "Get up! Get lost!"

  The brunette sat up in bed and ran her fingers through her hair.

  "You don't want me to stay?” she asked, gliding her fingertips up her body and over the slight curves, she thought she had.

  She was skin and bones but her medium size breasts were real.

  Was that supposed to be enticing to him? He smirked then threw her dress beside her on the bed.

  "Your boss is on his way up.” He tossed fifty dollars on the bed then took another puff of his cigarette. Redding held the upper molding of the window with his hands and bent his body forward.

  In the mirror to the side of the window, he could see the brunette watching him with interest. He flexed his muscles. He stayed fit and had a great body but his face was not anything special, he knew that.

  "What's this? I was here all fucking day,” she yelled.

  He did not look at her.

  "That's more than you get paid in a week."

  "I gotta split that with Raul.” She pulled the dress on over her head and straightened it out.

  Redding turned towards the brunette and looked at her.

  She placed her hands on her hips.

  He tossed her another twenty and she quickly grabbed it up.

  Redding grabbed her by her throat.

  "You don't show him that. That's for you and to keep your mouth shut.” He stared at her a moment watching the tears fill her eyes.

  He licked her bottom lip.

  "You don't know me. You've never seen me, right?"

  "Right,” she whispered.

  He abruptly let go of her face.

  There was a knock at the door and the brunette stuffed the twenty in her underwear and pulled the dress back down over them.

  "I'm coming! I'm coming!” she said then left the room.

  Redding walked towards the window again, suddenly feeling the instant silence around him.

  He froze where he was, overcome by the silence, then he heard the voice.

  It was a deep, demanding tone. His master's words of reprimand filled his own body with guilt. The master was angry with him. He did not give him permission to seek out the woman and satisfy his own needs. Redding fell to the floor, bowed his head, and covered his ears with his hands, pleading for forgiveness. The words of his master echoed through the room, bouncing off the four walls, penetrating Redding's ears, sending shivers of fear and pain like nothing Redding ever felt before. He stopped bowing his head as the orders sunk in. He sat upright, back straight, palms flat against his knees and he stared straight ahead allowing the orders, the plans to sink in.

  "Yes Master,” he said then quickly, like some trained military soldier, jumped up, accepted his orders, then grabbed a duffel bag off the floor. He opened the zipper and pulled out a box of his supplies. He had some surveillance to do and a location on a survivor he needed to get rid of. Redding thought about how his master found the guy working in the restaurant. He was a manager now and stayed mostly in the back-office. That was probably because of his scars. On the other hand, maybe he was hiding. Yeah, maybe he was hiding. The possibility the survivor could know more about him was a chance Redding was not willing to take. Removal of this spy was imperative. The more Redding thought about the survivors the more his stomach ached, his head hurt and his mind foresaw spending the rest of his life in captivity. No fire, no satisfaction and no success.

  Earl Redding Jr. was a patient man. He knew he had time to burn the whole world and he did not want to rush it. He prepared the detonations carefully, everything from the location to the victims had to be perfect. There was no room for mistakes and unfortunately people survived. It was one thing if they had escaped without injury by the devil's rage but if burned, then, surviving was completely unacceptable. That meant the devil was left dissatisfied and it was Redding's job to help the devil obtain his goal. ‘Hell on Earth,’ was what they wanted.

  Redding closed his eyes picturing the world around him engulfed in flames. He would walk hand in hand with the devil through the inferno untouched, unscathed and superior.

  A smile formed on his face as he prepared a disguise and the beginning of another ritual in the name of his great cause. “Hell on earth. Hell on earth. A heavenly inferno they will have."

  * * * *

  It was 6: 30 a.m. when Katie headed out the door to the beach. She was nervous about jogging. She had not done it since the fire and her injuries. She hoped her leg and hip held out as she did some pre-stretching by the boardwalk. It was relaxing and she loved the sound of seagulls flying above her. Then there was the feel of the planks of brown and gray wood beneath her sneakers. She missed these small sensations.

  Katie glanced around the boardwalk remembering some of the original stores located there. Her eyes caught sight of a handmade jewelry store she was not familiar with but piqued her interest. She would be sure to check out each of the stores thoroughly, later today. She continued to stretch out, hoping that her first jog did not leave memories of aches or injury because she had not stretched enough before jogging. The doctors in Bolton Bay said there was no medical reason to prevent her from jogging. It was in her mind. Katie was in tune with her emotions, her self-inflicted disability. That is exactly what her slight limp was all about. Why did she survive the fire and not Bradley?

  This beach, this initiative to start a new life, began with a jog. An activity she denied herself the pleasure of because she felt guilty.

  The sandy beach called to her and there was just no denying the pleasure a jog on the beach provided for her. Not too many people were out yet, just a few joggers like herself and some people walking their dogs.

  Katie looked towards the sand dune knowing the lighthouse was a good three miles down the beach. She insisted that she would make it to and from without stopping. A couple of slow easy breaths and off she went jogging her way to her new life.

  Her feet padded along the soft, moist sand and glancing down she noticed the whiteness of the sand. Looking above to the clear blue skies and the marina near the beginning of the boardwalk she sensed her motivation growing stronger. The peacefulness of being home embraced her.

  Near the marina she saw some boaters were getting an early start, stocking their boats with the day's necessary rations and whatever was needed for their boating excursions.

  Katie had not been sailing in over two years. Certain things just frightened her.

  Mostly things she did not have ‘some’ control over. Whenever she planned an event, she looked at the negatives first. If there were too many then she did not join in. It was that simple now. The fire had changed her carefree, ‘it happens to everyone else but me’ attitude.

  It was something she hated but lived by.

  Katie longed for the day she would feel safe. There was a constant feeling of fear, doubt and regret deep inside her. She was learning to live with the feelings, she was not happy about them, but she accepted them. She inhaled the salty air brought on by the slight breeze she created as she ran down the beach.

  Katie loved the feel of her sneakers pounding in the sand. She missed running on the beach, feeling the ocean air against her face. She would not miss the days of jogging on a treadmill in a crowded, musty, sweaty, smelling gym.

  She smiled, noting she was halfway to the lighthouse she could see the stone foundation around the bottom of it. Her hip was aching, her breathing was more rapid and she was feeling tired from the distance she ran.

  The lighthouse always reminded her of home and the beach, her youthful teenage days and the last summer she spent here before leaving for college.

  She could not h
elp but recall the past five years of her life. Of course, she did not focus on her achievements or the good that had happened. She thought about her father's death eight years ago, leaving her family, the fire, the explosion and Bradley dying.

  The pain in her hip was increasing and the anger and bitterness at what happened was getting the best of her. She hated moments of weakness like this turning a pleasant moment into guilt and anxiety. It was a pattern, one she couldn't resist because it always led to memories of Bradley.

  Katie tried to focus on the seagulls, the landscape, anything but the haunting thoughts that were consuming her mind.

  Why was she alive? Why did Bradley have to die? She had no right being here, enjoying life in any way. She wished she had died too.

  The tears were flowing and she lost her balance, her leg had given out and she fell to the sand.

  Katie covered her face and cried.

  * * * *

  Ryan Masters was running down the beach that lined Warrens Cove. He was keeping a good pace today, breaking his record time and he was nearly at the end of his run. He had to push himself to the limit. His fight against Theo Walters would be here soon enough. Anger filled his belly. Ryan was looking forward to the boxing match this September. He had been training hard and his coach, Chief William Rodney, with Billy and the other guys from Ladder Three, were pushing for the winning trophy. Ryan recalled last year's match against Theo. It was a nightmare and a loss he could still taste.

  The disappointment, the rage ate him up alive. The sound of the crowd cheering Theo on and Ryan's own lack of desire caused him to lose. A few jabs to Theo's face made Ryan feel confident. That confidence made him cocky and full of himself. He took Theo's boxing abilities lightly and especially Theo's right hook. That arrogance caused Ryan to lose the match and disappoint his crew and his coach. Guilt and failure consumed his body. It did not help that Theo was a jerk about the whole thing, running his mouth, bad-mouthing the whole company just irritated Ryan more. Chief Rodney was on Ryan's case big time.

  Ryan recalled Rodney's words. "You're going to lose again Bull if you let that short fuse of yours take control. You have to stay focused. Use your technique, your speed."

  That was easy for the chief to say, he was not facing a sworn enemy. God, he hated Theo Walters with a passion. It did not help that the rest of the guys shared that same hatred for the man. Theo thought he was a god of some kind. Even at The Pit, Theo would flaunt his stuff, able to grab any woman he wanted by the arm and own her for the night, for the week, for whatever. He was obnoxious and half his own crew hated him. He was not a team player and that was definitely a bad thing when fighting fires. If you do not have a crew that backs one another up then accidents happen. Theo took every opportunity to piss Ryan off. It was about time he put Theo in his place. He was all talk and still had not shut his mouth about the win.

  "I'm going to get Theo this time. He's mine!"

  Ryan threw a few jabs in the air as he ran. His next thoughts came immediately after Theo. It was his mind's way of pointing out his faults, his own regrets and failures. Ryan sighed but could not push the vision away.

  He thought about Shelly, she would be 20 next week. He tried to keep track of her of course, without her knowing. He had wanted to go see her six months ago before she left but he could not. No matter how hard he tried, he just could not watch her go through all that pain. If he had only gotten through the fire faster then maybe Shelly's injuries would not have been so bad. That was something he continued to live with.

  He saw her face, her golden blond hair on the side of her head, burned away to the scalp. Her ear alone needed major reconstructive surgery. Her completely youthful life was lost and non replaceable. He could not stand by and watch her go through such torment.

  It was terrible but he was grateful she had left for the city to receive special treatment at the university hospital. They had a top of the line burn center and Shelly had hopes that she once again would look beautiful. The County hospital twenty minutes away had a great burn center as well, but Shelly needed special surgery and her uncle did that for a living. Ryan thought about the Warren County Hospital and its great reputation. Billy's brother Donny worked there as an ER resident doctor. Unfortunately, as the area of Warren Cove continued to grow so did the increase in fires, automobile accidents and everything else that required the need for a large, well-equipped hospital.

  Again, he thought about Shelly and her scars.

  Ryan forced the feeling in his gut away. Shelly had not returned as far as he knew, so things might not have worked out as she planned. He wondered if she did return would she want to see him, face the firefighter responsible for not getting to her in time.

  He pushed away the thoughts. She was not returning.

  He forced his attention back towards his workout and towards the beach in front of him.

  In the distance coming towards him, he could see another jogger. Usually, the lighthouse at the end of the beach did not draw many joggers. It had always been his place, at least in the morning hours.

  The jogger appeared to be female, brown hair tied back in a ponytail. It was swinging in the wind. She was trim yet shapely and petite. Suddenly as he began to come closer, he noticed her lose her balance and fall. She was hurt, he could tell, as he picked up the pace and closed the distance between them.

  "Are you okay?"

  Katie heard a strong, deep voice and a large figure cast a shadow over her.

  She wiped her eyes but did not dare look up.

  "I'm fine. Thank you.” She could barely speak and the throbbing in her hip was intense.

  "Let me help you,” the voice stated and he reached for her arm.

  "I'm okay. Please, I'll be fine.” She knew she sounded harsh then caught herself. The stranger was trying to be kind. How the hell did he know she was a blubbering mess right now?

  "I'm sorry. It's just that I have a cramp in my leg. I can't move yet,” she whispered, glad the cramp excuse came to mind.

  "There's a bench just up ahead. Let me help you."

  "No that's okay—"

  Before Katie could object, the stranger was scooping her up into his arms.

  "You don't have to—” Katie took in the sight of the handsome stranger. He was tall and large, built like a tower and had the most gorgeous green eyes.

  She smelled the soapy scent on his skin even though he was jogging and perspiring, mixed with cologne and something else that was strangely familiar. She dismissed the connection.

  Katie felt the muscles in his arms that were around her, holding her close to his body. He was solid, every inch of him including his face. She glanced away.

  "Put your arms around my neck,” he said. She obeyed without thinking, until she felt the bulging muscles protruding from his shoulders. To say he was ‘built’ was an understatement. She let go a second and started falling.

  He held on tighter.

  Katie held her breath.

  With little effort, he was walking through the deep sand carrying her halfway up the beach to the bench.

  "Here we go.” He gently placed her onto the wooden bench.

  Katie rubbed her leg, focusing on the cramp she ‘supposedly’ had.

  The stranger stared at her.

  Ryan was shaking inside. The injured woman was gorgeous, petite and smelled so feminine baby's breath came to mind. Her body was the same and just as inviting. She had an amazing figure, curves in all the right places and the sad look in her large brown eyes filled him with concern. The small beauty mark by her lip grabbed his attention. It was feminine and unique.

  Why the hell would he feel concern for a stranger? He could not stop staring. She had to be an ‘out of towner'.

  Ryan bent down next to her noting the length of her hair. It was all pulled back in a ponytail and probably reached her waist. A few strands of hair clung to her cheeks, the tears held them there.

  He reached his hand out and gently touched her chin. The woman was
staring down at her leg.

  "Are you all right? What can I do to help?” he asked, forcing her to look at him.

  God he is handsome.

  Katie felt her heart racing, her palms were sweating and her cheeks felt flushed.

  The defined structure of his face reminded her of some statue of a handsome Greek god. Perfection only found in art, not in the form of any human being she had ever seen. The look of sincerity when he asked her what he could do to help sent warmth through her body and a desire to reach out and touch him. Quickly, she reprimanded her thoughts and her needs in her mind. What right did she have to feel any such emotion?

  "I'm all right. I will just sit here and rest a bit. My leg gave out,” she told him and he held her gaze with his. He was staring at her lips and her body tingled at the thought of him kissing her. She quickly turned away.

  What is wrong with me? How could I think about such a thing?

  She knew that she had no right to.

  She should not even think such thoughts.

  Another tear threatened to escape. She quickly rubbed it away and hoped the stranger had not noticed.

  Ryan dropped his hand and regretted touching her. Was he scaring her? He could tell she was nervous, upset but he could not resist. She looked needy and the urge to help her, make her feel better got the best of him. Ryan wanted to touch her skin. She felt so good in his arms, he especially liked the way her arms draped around his shoulders.

  "I'm sorry. I don't mean to scare you. Maybe I can help. Do you think you pulled a muscle?"

  He bent down closer.

  "I don't think so. It's okay really. You go ahead, I'll be fine."

  Ryan looked into her eyes. They were sad and he could not help the feeling that something more was wrong.

 

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