The flames were too much; we couldn’t break past. They were six feet high, and made a wall about ten yards long. The old abandoned house was burning up fast, and it was getting hot in there.
“What’s the plan, Simone?”
I looked at Jayce like he was insane.
“Get the heck out of here,” I replied.
I was looking around–I ducked quickly as part of the ceiling fell. The burning embers rained down on us. I flicked one off my neck. My face felt three sizes too small, and I smelled my eyebrows burning. It was now or never time, and the firetrap of a house seemed to be trapping us (in the fire).
I wasn’t happy with myself, ‘cause when you live in Highland Park, you never go into an abandoned house on Halloween (they have this bad habit: getting lit on fire). ‘Devil’s Night’ is what we call it, and I was kicking myself for taking the chance I did. Now I had four guys to worry about, and that wasn’t including myself.
“Y’all get your knives out, let’s see if we can cut through that door.”
We needed to find the money, and the basement door was locked. That led us to believe that was where the cash was. It was a two for. We could get to the basement, which hopefully had a way out, and find the money, if indeed it was there.
Creak.
“That was the ceiling. Let’s go!”
All five us got out our (admittedly illegal) knives, and began hacking at the door. The frame was burnt around the very top, but the rest of the door was solid. We were nonetheless able to shred it quickly with the five knives.
When it was basically splintered, Meech, the biggest of us all pushed it in. Behind the door were some stairs, that led towards the dark. Dark was good, because it meant no fire. At least no fire yet.
“Let’s grab the guns, so the heat doesn’t fire the ammo for us.”
Kev and Kalil grabbed the guns, swearing in unison, as the hot metal seared their hands.
“They’re too freakin’ hot, Simone,” Kev whined.
“Okay we’ll have to lea–”
Crack! Fwump! Fwoosh!
The patchy ceiling had fallen revealing the remaining copper pipes, and cross beams. I was fine, just a few more burns. Kev and Kalil were okay, Kalil’s ‘fro was on fire, but Kev was putting that out. Jayce was by the basement door frame and was almost killed, but he dived out of the way. Now the flames were building up in front of the basement door. The ceiling had blocked it up, and quickly caught on fire.
“Where’s Meech!”
“We was by the basement door, but he didn’t move!”
We were supposed to go together. Don’t worry, we just gotta find the money, then everything’s gonna be okay.
“We have to leave him, we’ve gotta get out,” and then, even though I knew it wasn’t true, “Maybe he made it to the basement, he’ll wait for us.”
I looked around the fiery front room, and then at my boys.
God, please help me now. We gotta get out of this. Our families need us.
“It’s gonna get hot, boys, but we gotta try to get to the basement.”
The ceiling had fallen and blocked a direct route for both parties: Kalil and Kev were tucked in a corner, and Jayce and I were blocked off by a long, jagged piece of ceiling. Even if we got past, we’d have to break down the debris in front.
“Simone,” Jayce said. “We’ve gotta run across. It’s too hot, but it’s the only–”
Suddenly his face was blank. Blood was pouring out of his chest like there was hole in his carton of milk.
“Get down!” I screamed, while diving to the floor.
Living in a place like Highland Park helps sharpen your reflexes. Kev and Kalil dropped like guillotines.
I’ve never been a praying man, but I was praying then.
God please help us now. We sure as… Well, we really, really need your help!
I was on the ground, but I was searching the rafter looking for a rifle barrel, a silencer. Looking for something. There had to be a sign. I saw nothing. On the ground I realized that there was a small crawl space that led to the corner where Kev and Kalil were. I was able to wiggle in, knowing it was my last chance. I made it about halfway (or what I thought was halfway) but then I started coughing. I had to get out, but I had to tell Kev and Kalil.
“Kev!” I rasped, the heat and smoke ruining my voice–and lungs, for that matter. It was getting hard to breathe. “Get over here! You gotta get over here!”
“We coming! We coming,” I heard. It was one of the twins voices–maybe both.
I started backwards crawling, and trying not to burn myself. I was losing wind, and I could feel it. The orange glow illuminated the twins’ hair, and I smiled as I saw the tips of an afro burning.
The lightening of the moment allowed me the slightest energy. I retraced my crawling out into the open again. Taking a deep breath I regained a bit of composure.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Three bullets ripped into the ground to the left of me. I immediately rolled left, in order to avoid the inevitable shot at my right side. He was trying to sandwich me. If I’d rolled to the right, I’d have been dead. Luckily I’d known the Shadows (and their assassins) for a while.
The twins were coming.
“Kev, don’t come out–NO!”
Right in the center of his mohawk there was a dribble of blood. Kalil was creeping out to look at his brother.
“Stay under there! That’s your cover!
Kalil snapped his head back. Another few bullets slammed into the fallen ceiling. I was livid at this point. I didn’t know who was up there, but he was just toying with me now. I pulled my switchblade out and opened it. Rolling over to the wall, I stabbed it. I slashed a square of the dry wall and ripped it out of place. The square opening was lit by the flames surrounding it.
I took off my shirt, and balled it up in my left hand. I felt around for the water pipe in the wall with my right hand. When I found it, I positioned my knife, and pulled, the wall creating a fulcrum at the tip of my knife. I pulled with all of my weight, and heard creaking. Finally something gave and water started pouring out. I knew there wouldn’t be much, but I hoped there was enough in the old pipes.
I reached my shirt in, and tried to catch as much water as I could. I knew I had a bit of time, because the sniper was obviously enjoying himself.
Tying the sleeves of the shirt around the neck, I tried to grab as much of the barely-oxygenated air as I could. The result was a strange roundish bag made out of wet cloth.
“Kalil! Kalil get outta there,” I hissed.
Kalil army-crawled out and I crawled in with my “oxygen tank”. I got to the same point when I was just bushed, and then I stuck my head in the air pocket I’d made, took one struggle of a breath, and tried to make it to the end in a lungful. My vision flickered as the shards of burning wood burned my exposed back, and I felt cramps coming on as my body realized it was being dehydrated (cooked, actually) in the burning room.
Finally I broke through to the other side. The air was a little clearer, but it took me awhile to become fully alert again. I pushed through though, and located the guns. The twins had moved them away from the wall a bit, so the ammo wasn’t hot enough to fire unintentionally, but they were still really hot.
Grabbing the handgun in my wet shirt didn’t help because it still burnt me. Flipping the shirt over so the gun rested in the middle, I picked up the corners of the shirt creating a little container. I started walking along the edge of the room. There was about eight feet of burning ceiling in between me and the next open area. Running as hard as I could–in what little space I had–I jumped, but I landed on a beam. It buckled, but then sprung back. I somersaulted in the air–quickly dissipating the energy, and I landed softly on the charred floor.
Kalil stood up and stared.
“Holy–”
He never finished his sentence. Kalil dropped out of view–shot.
Screw the money, I gotta get out of here.
I knew what I had to do, and it wasn’t get out of the building. I’d resigned myself to that fact. October 31st, the creepiest day to die. Part of my trailed off into a strange thought, and then rocketed back to my current situation when the fire roared as it found more fuel.
“Where are you!” I shouted, buying time (hopefully).
Thud!
A bullet landed in the floor. Though the answer wasn’t specific, it was an answer. He was above, and I knew that much. I scanned the room for any cover.
Got to get him on my level, I thought. Got to make him vulnerable. But not afraid. Make him think he’s got the upper hand.
Then I saw it. The gun was still hot, but I had to try it. I snapped off a shot, frying my hand, but it worked. I hit the electrical box. It was holding wires that were supporting a plank in the rafters. It slipped down, and fell to the floor. Firing at another board, and another, I tried to scare the sniper out.
I wasn’t sure if I’d made him fall.
Thud!
My answer came when a bullet hit just to the left of my shoulder–he was on the ground, judging by the trajectory. Again, the marksman was toying with me. I was angry now. But I knew I had him. He had dropped. I also knew that he had switched weapons. The bullet that had slammed into the wall next to me was a lot bigger, and came with more velocity. If it wasn’t clear, I was dealing with a professional.
I was about fifteen feet to the left of the basement door. I could crawl five more feet under the protection of the fallen ceiling, but that was it. From there I’d have to walk on top of the fiery platform. That wasn’t the problem, the fire I mean. No, I could deal with the flames, I was becoming decreasingly fazed by the fire. The problem was my position. I’d be extremely exposed. If I hadn’t ticked the sniper off I would have been more comfortable. I finally decided to take the risk. No, I decided to take the hit. It wasn’t ‘if’ but ‘when’, as they say.
I crept along the cover of the ceiling, and then I leapt onto the fiery walkway. Immediately I tucked my head, and pinned my arms to my sides. I took a step, and then I leapt to the blocked doorway. While in the air the bullet slammed into my arm. My body’s momentum shifted with the bullet and I crashed through the burning wood, and down the nine foot stairway. I broke my left shoulder, for sure. My right arm had slowed the bullet, a little, before it had lodged in one of my ribs. My right arm was completely obliterated. I would have puked at the sight of it, if the concussion from the bullet hadn’t ruined my vision. I puked from the sudden nausea, though, and then felt my left arm. What was left of my left arm. I had landed on my side, and right on top of some burning boards.
What’s that! my very concussed head wondered. I was staring at something orange. It wasn’t fire. And it had a jagged black line across its front
My body shook with surprise (and adrenaline, and pain, and a few other things), but I realized what it was. Just a pumpkin that somebody had carved. The ghoulish face was rather ghoulish though, mostly because my eyes were on strike.
I rolled onto my front, tasting the old dirt floor. Painfully, I arched my back, balanced by my head, pulling my knees under my center of gravity. Flames were now covering my left arm. My right arm was dangling uselessly. I couldn’t push off of my left arm so I just used my legs. I was using some sort of reserve energy, because I knew I couldn’t go on, but I did.
I used my left hand to pick up the gun. I thought it burnt my hand, but I wasn’t sure. Then I lifted my left arm as high as I could and began looking for the gas pipes. The firelight from my arm leading the way.
He killed your boys. He killed your brothers. He’s coming for you. Avenge them. Demand the respect they deserve.
These thoughts swirled in my head as I swung my arm around for lighting.
Gas! Found it!
My tired mind almost lost it there. I fought for consciousness, and squeezed the trigger. The simple effort wasn’t possible. My tendons were burnt in half, and my hand dropped the gun. It went off and sent a 9 mm bullet into my hip.
That was the last straw.
You let them down, I thought. It’s over.
I tipped over like a big old pine tree. I landed right on the gas pipe, my weight bending the pipe. I smelled and tasted the dangerous liquid. Actually, I was surprised I could smell. I guess my sense of touch was gone, so the others were working to compensate.
I smiled as the oily liquid dribbled over me, and the fumes drifted around the room. I’d done my damage. The revenge was mine. My brothers were avenged.
I fought to roll to my right. I put my left arm on the pipe igniting the stream of gas.
Instantly shards of pipe exploded into my body, and the walls of the entire house were obliterated by the shrapnel.
Everything in the house was shredded.
A burning hundred dollar bill floated down from the air. It landed on my nose, and I smelled pumpkin.
That’s where it was.
My job was done.