Now You See Her

by Paul J. Teague

  ‘It's Cory Miles, the man from the paper—Bianca's friend. Remember me?’

  Toni nodded, coughing at the sudden cloud of smoke.

  ‘We're going to have to climb out the window, Toni. Can you be really grown-up for a few minutes, while I get you out of here?’

  She nodded, her eyes widening in panic.

  Cory threw the fire blanket onto the floor and moved toward the window. They were more like portholes than windows. Cory cursed the old-fashioned fire regulations that deemed such an old trailer acceptable as living quarters.

  He needed to smash the glass, but there was nothing to break it with. He'd use his hand or elbow as a last resort, but he didn't want to cut himself in the process. As he looked around for something to use to smash his way through, there was a deafening crack and a gust of flames. A section of roof had just fallen in, separating him from the terrified child caught in a circle of fire in the corner of her bedroom.

  Chapter Forty-One

  ‘Toni, stay still,’ Cory called out. He could sense movement outside the bedroom window, but if he didn't move fast, Toni would be cut off. The corridor beyond her bedroom already resembled a tunnel of flames.

  ‘I'm scared, I want to get out! I want my mom.’

  She was becoming hysterical; Cory feared she might do something stupid. He turned suddenly as the glass behind him shattered. It was Xander Griffen, working with Louise to get them out of there. Xander was raking the shattered glass fragments out of the frame, clearing the way for Cory.

  He had his way out now, if he could just reach Toni. The flames were becoming oppressive beyond the bedroom, the smoke getting denser by the second. He spotted the discarded fire blanket at Toni's side.

  ‘Wrap that blanket around you,’ Cory called out. Visibly shaking, Toni did as she was told. Cory felt his clothing; it had partially dried out with the intensity of the heat, but it was still damp. He closed his eyes and dived across the burning shard of twisted metal that had crashed into the room. He landed heavily on the floor at Toni's side and patted himself down to put out the flames that were licking the edge of his pants. He got up quickly and put his arms tightly around Toni to give her comfort and reassurance.

  ‘I need you to be really brave now,’ he said, looking directly into her eyes and hoping that she could find the strength to get through the next few moments. ‘Can you do that?’ he asked.

  Toni nodded, her tears making tracks through the soot on her blackened face.

  ‘Trust me, Toni—you're going to see your mom in just a few seconds.’

  He wrapped the fire blanket tightly around her, making sure her head was covered, then picked her up, cradling her in his arms. He stood on the bed and leapt across the room, over the flames, falling badly on the far side and rolling into the wall, to avoid crushing her under the weight of his body. He scooped her up and passed her over to Xander, who took her into his arms like a magpie seizing its most precious gift and ran away from the burning trailer.

  Another chunk of the roof crashed down into the far side of the room, the place where only seconds previously, Cory had promised he would get Toni out of there. He could see that beyond the broken window, Louise was urging him to hurry. Judging by the look of concern on her face, the trailer must be almost entirely engulfed now.

  Estimating he only had seconds, Cory clambered through the small opening, guided by Louise. As they landed in the overgrown grass, clear of the burning trailer, Cory turned to take a look at what he’d just escaped from. The living area had already been reduced to a burning metal frame, the bedroom end was ablaze with a bright orange flare, and a deep, black smoke was coming off the entire structure.

  ‘They're out, we got them all out safely,’ Louise said, gasping for breath.

  Cory coughed, trying to clear the smoke from his lungs. The fresh air was like an elixir, nourishing and replenishing at the same time.

  ‘What the hell happened? That was no accident.’ Cory fought to find his voice, hoarse from the effects of the smoke.

  ‘The men turned up and overpowered Officer Ambrose, then tried to make Reece sign some documents. When she refused to sign, they locked them in there and set fire to the doors. These people are animals, Cory.’

  The sound of fire engine sirens could be heard far off in the distance.

  ‘A bit late,’ Cory cursed. ‘There's no way they could have saved Reece and the kids, having to come from Westview.’

  ‘They cut our local firefighting team—that's how it is now,’ Louise answered.

  ‘I have to find Bianca,’ Cory said, realizing what this meant for his young companion. ‘If they think nothing of killing two young children to get what they want, they won't think twice about disposing of Bianca. I'm going out to the woods.’

  ‘You can't, Cory, we have to wait for the police to arrive now.’

  ‘Maybe you do, Louise, but I don't. There's no way I'm waiting to go through the motions with the cops. I need to take your car—can I have the keys?’

  Louise looked at him.

  ‘These people are dangerous,’ she warned. ‘You're out of your depth out there.’

  ‘Give me your gun then.’

  ‘Cory, you know I can't. It's bad enough that we've taken matters into our own hands already.’

  ‘We just saved three innocent lives.’

  ‘Look, take my car and go,’ she said, handing him the keys. ‘I'll take over here and make sure they're all safe, then I'll follow you. But I can't promise not to come with my colleagues. Just see if she's out there, Cory, and don't engage them if she is. Don't get yourself hurt.’

  She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. He looked her in the eyes, trying to convey that he felt the same way. Xander approached them, holding Toni's hand. She looked like she'd recovered well.

  ‘You did well out there, Xander. You're a hero! Thank you.’

  Xander smiled like he'd just been paid the biggest compliment of his life.

  ‘I'm out of here,’ Cory said, ‘before we get overwhelmed with cops and firefighters.’

  As he ran over to where the cars were parked, he saw Reece holding Megan, the two of them coughing fiercely, but relieved that they'd escaped with their lives.

  ‘Thank you, Mr. Miles,’ Reece said as he hurried by them. ‘We needed a friend today.’

  Cory nodded and ran on. Officer Ambrose was still lying motionless where they'd left her. He hoped they wouldn’t have another body to count. The doors to Louise's car were open, just as they'd left them. He closed the passenger door, climbed into the driver’s seat and got ready to drive off. He hesitated for a moment, then realized the switch for the lights was on the opposite side to his vehicle.

  There was no time to mess around; he screeched away from Reece's land just as the first fire truck emerged from the wooded area by the road, its red lights flashing. He floored the accelerator while messing with the lights to avoid blinding the other trucks that would be coming from Westview. The only thing he cared about as he roared along the road was getting to the woods and finding Bianca.

  As Cory approached the deadly bend of Devil’s Corner, he caught sight of a flashing light and headlights approaching from the opposite direction. It would be a second fire truck, or maybe even an ambulance, if it was approaching from that direction.

  As he began to drive into the curve of the road, his hand fumbled on the buttons of the car as he tried to dim the high beams. He screwed it up, turning off the car's lights entirely, and making himself all but invisible in the pitch blackness created by the overhanging trees.

  The ambulance coming toward him took the corner wide, then swerved as the headlights picked up Cory's car. Cory jerked the steering wheel to avoid a collision, sending his vehicle careening off the road, screeching across the parking lot as he applied the brakes. The car flipped over and smashed through the wooden fence at the edge of the parking lot, rolling several times before coming to rest at the same spot where Xander Griffen's par
ents had lost their lives.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Cory just wanted the shaking to stop. He'd closed his eyes when the car went smashing through the wooden barrier, starting a series of rolls down the side of the hill that seemed neverending. With each roll, his head jerked violently, as if it was being torn off his shoulders. The flashlights from the cup holders crashed against the windshield and his cell phone dropped out of his pocket, becoming part of the debris as if he was trapped in some deadly, spinning washing machine.

  His head was spinning, pounding, and thumping like a sinister metronome, counting him down to the final smash. It came as the car roof crunched against the large rock at the side of the falls.

  Cory heard the sound of running water as the final small rocks followed him down the hillside and banged against the underneath of the car as it rested prone, like an upside-down tortoise. Airbags had inflated all around him, and he thanked his luck for Louise's head rests and safety options; he would not have fared quite so well in his own old car.

  He could smell something—fuel. He was hanging upside down in his seat, secured by the seatbelt, with his cell phone, the two flashlights, and various other bits of car debris resting directly below him. The drip of the fuel caught his attention. Could the car go up in flames? He wasn't certain, but he didn't want to stick around to find out.

  Not the first time that week, Cory carried out a quick check to make sure everything was still intact. The force of gravity on his body was formidable, as if his entire weight was about to push down on his head. His hair was hanging down toward the roof of the car. He found it strangely annoying, desperate to brush it back so it fell flat.

  Surely the team in the ambulance would stop to help him? Or would they rush to their first call and alert the police to what had happened on Devil's Corner? He wasn't really sure, but he did know that help would be arriving soon, in one form or another. And he wanted to be gone by the time it arrived.

  His hand moved to the seatbelt buckle, but it was jammed. He pushed his fingers into it, trying to activate it, but it was locked tight, and the strap was too taut across his lower body for him to wriggle free.

  He tried reaching for his phone, but couldn't quite touch it. He swung his hand slightly, managing to catch the handle of a flashlight which he used to move the phone nearer to him. With a stretch, he managed to activate the screen with a fingertip. There was a Facebook message waiting for him from Nadia. It must have come in while he was fighting the fire at Reece's. It wasn't helpful being in a cell phone dead zone. If only Nadia could see where he was at that very moment.

  He stretched out his finger, desperate to open up the message, like it was the most important thing in the world, in spite of his present predicament. He managed to touch the small circular icon with Nadia's profile picture in it, and the message opened. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t focus on the text; then he realized his vision was blurred. Blinking, he tried to make it out.

  I tried to call but there was no answer. I'm sorry, Cory, but I wanted you to know I'm filing for divorce. It's been a long time coming. If we can work through this together, Zach will be fine, he'll adjust. I'm sorry it's come to this. You'll get the papers tomorrow, I wanted you to know beforehand. Nx

  Cory thought it ironic that she'd left the x on the message. It was force of habit more than anything else. He thought about how much Zach meant to him. Where had it all gone wrong for him and Nadia? They seemed to have lost hold of their relationship like the string on a balloon might slip through a child's fingers.

  Was it all his fault? Should he have spoken up when Nadia took the job? Might things have worked out better if he'd taken a better-paying job, freeing up his wife to spend more time as a mom and less as the primary wage earner? It was all water under the bridge now, the woman he'd loved—the woman he still loved—had called time on their relationship. It would soon be over.

  A tear splashed down onto the screen of Cory's phone as he thought of his precious son growing up without his father constantly by his side; even worse, he might gain a stepfather, probably a man who Cory would despise. It burned inside him like a self-devouring virus.

  As he blamed himself for his failure in their relationship, he thought, too, of Bianca and Poppy Norman. He'd let them both down in his impetuousness. How many times had he been on Devil's Corner? It wasn't dangerous if you didn't approach it like a maniac, but that's exactly what he'd done. And now Poppy was probably dead already and Bianca was scared out of her wits—if she was even still alive after what had happened at Reece's trailer.

  As he hung upside-down, the dripping of the fuel still insistent, he considered his options. His life had suddenly turned to crap. He'd placed his intern in danger, let down his son, failed Reece and Poppy Norman, and been unable to salvage his marriage. For a moment, he wondered if it might have been better for all parties if that final crash into the rock had finished him.

  Then he was roused out of his self-pity by the sight of a flame outside, reflected in the car window. Suddenly it leapt higher. The fuel must be leaking from somewhere—a torn hose perhaps.

  He felt a sudden urgency and anger. Dean Tarrant and those men in suits who'd been intimidating Reece and Xander—they were a bunch of bullies. Imogen Franklin, who never hurt a soul in her life, murdered by the same people most likely. And the one unforgivable thing was threatening children like Poppy, Toni, and Megan. Damn it, they'd even tried to scare him through Zach. It was all connected, and he was beginning to see how.

  The flames were blazing even more fiercely outside. Where were those ambulance workers? Somebody ought to be here by now. Cory didn't want to die in that confined space, strapped tight to a seat, upside down and unable to move. How long until it blew? Weren't fuel tanks made better these days to prevent that very thing from happening? He didn't know.

  He looked around at what had fallen onto the roof area: two flashlights, his phone, a packet of tissues and a pair of sunglasses. Nothing that he could use to cut his way out. There had to be something. Then he saw it; he’d been looking for the wrong thing.

  A fair-size shard of glass had fallen into the car as it had rolled down the hill. He stretched out his arms, then reached with his fingers as far as he could. No, it was just too far away. He grasped at one of the flashlights again and managed to pull it closer to him. Again, he stretched, fumbling to get a grip on the shard. He got it. He maneuvered it into a firmer grip, then moved it up toward his seatbelt.

  A flare of fire to his side startled him and he let the shard slip, but managed to grab it before it tumbled down to the roof of the car. The sharp, pointed end cut through the flesh on his hand. He flinched but ignored it—he didn't have much time left now.

  The blaze was becoming so fierce now that no amount of safety features would prevent the whole vehicle from turning into a ball of flame. As Cory began to saw at his seatbelt with the piece of shattered glass, he knew that it was only a matter of time before Louise's vehicle would become a deadly coffin.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Flashing blue lights in the distance told Cory that help was on the way. But he'd be engulfed by flames by the time anybody reached him. If he couldn't get himself out, nobody else would manage it.

  The shard of glass had cut his flesh with ease, yet he was getting nowhere as he used it to saw through the fabric of the seatbelt. The fire had surrounded the outside of the vehicle and the metal of the hood was making metallic clanging noises as it heated and expanded.

  At last, he pierced a tear in the edge of the belt and, with his weight bearing down upon it, it became easier to make progress. As he cut, his weight tore it a little further, until he reached the final threads. He knew when he sliced through those, he'd go crashing head-first into the roof space. He had no choice. He was on borrowed time; the gas tank might explode at any moment.

  Here we go, he thought, bracing for the impact. Cory made the final cut, then crumpled into the roof space like a bag of bricks and wi
th the same amount of grace. Through the windshield, he could see the beams of flashlights from whoever was coming to assist him. He wanted to avoid them if he could; he wanted to find Bianca, preferably without the police. That's what the text to Bianca's parents had said—no police—and they'd only screw everything up if they piled into the woods with barking dogs and armed teams.

  Cory managed to flip himself over, found his phone and a flashlight, then kicked at the glass on the opposite side from the rescue crew. The windshield was partially broken already, so with a couple of good kicks, he was through. Like a tunneler in a cave, he pulled his body through the small opening, out onto the grass, flames licking around him, scorching his skin. He rolled down the grassy bank into the shallows of the river.

  As he splashed into the water, there was a sudden burst of flames as the fuel tank exploded. He heard the gasps of the rescue team on the far side of the vehicle. In spite of their panic, expecting someone to be in there, they'd figure it out soon enough. It would give him time to find Bianca.

  Cory kept low as the light from the flames lit up the river, pulling himself along in the water to avoid being seen by the rescuers. There were two paths down to the river. He'd have to move along to the far path in order to avoid detection. Movement was easy downstream, and the cool water was a blessed relief on his skin after the near-cremation he'd just experienced—twice in one day.

  When he was well away from the blazing car, and almost level with the far set of steps up to the parking lot, Cory pulled himself out of the water. Above him, he could see an ambulance, a fire engine, and two patrol cars. He'd need to circle around them, cross the road, and head for the far side of the woods.

  He looked at his phone. It was dead, flooded by the water. He tried the flashlight, pointing it toward his body so it wouldn't be seen by the rescuers. It was rubber, the heavy-duty variety, so it still worked. He placed his phone on a nearby rock. What was he going to do with it in a cell phone dead zone, anyway—take a selfie when he rescued Bianca?