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A Ghost of Fire

Page 47

by Sam Whittaker


  ***

  A short while later the trunk fire had burned low. It was mostly coals, ash and the occasional scorched piece of wood or bone sticking out. I kicked my foot through the mess and found the key which had opened the trunk. I plucked it out of the ash and tossed it aside as it was still too hot to hold for very long. After it cooled I picked it up and put it back in my pocket.

  “Do you think you’re going to need that again?” Katie asked.

  “I hope not,’ I replied.

  “Then why take it?” She pressed.

  “Souvenir,” was all I said in return.

  We all got shovels and dug a hole about three feet deep, by three long and two across in front of the charred remains. We knocked them over into the hole and covered them over with dirt.

  “Are we sure the bones are burned enough?” Trent inquired.

  “Oh, yeah, he’s gone,” I said. “We won’t be seeing Jonas Pine again.”

  “Good,” Katie said.

  “How are we doing?” I asked. We took turns examining each other’s wounds to make sure there wasn’t anything which needed immediate attention. Trent seemed to have it the worst with the deep cuts on his face he’d received from Pine. He was going to need stitches before the Sun came up. All of us had bruising and burns and scrapes but we were all going to make it. My eyes fell to the body of Stuart Vox and I was taken by a great regret.

  I walked over to the body and knelt beside it…beside him. “Stuart, I’m so sorry.” I turned to the others, stood and said, “I wish I’d known him better. We really only had a few hours. This isn’t right.” Trent nodded in agreement. Katie walked over and hugged me.

  “You’ve got me,” she said. She looked up and planted a kiss on my lips.

  “You’ve got me too,” Trent said. Then he added, “Just don’t expect me to kiss you.”

  “You’ve got yourself a deal,” I replied. I laughed, which I didn’t think I would be able to do for a long time. But it felt good. It felt alive. As I looked back down at Katie in my arms I looked forward to exploring what else could help make me feel alive and well.

  Through the fires of Hell I had somehow stumbled across love. That love had also been tested and tried in the fire and had come out the other side whole. But it was still small and new. It had a lot of ways to grow and change and become more.

  I had new love and new friendship. It was all so much more than I ever could have planned or hoped for. That was fine by me. Sometimes, I thought, the surprise routes are the best and most fulfilling ones.

 

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