Allen woke up with a start. An orange glow came from under his door, and he smelled smoke. Leaping from his bed he dawned his clothing and grabbed a few of his belongings.
There was no window in his room, so he hurried to his door. He pressed his palm to the hardwood but sensed no heat. Cautiously, he opened the door. Through the small window on the opposite side of the house, Allen could see his families barn in flames. With a cry of horror, he ran outside. He grabbed the water bucket and ran towards the river. He scooped up a bucketful of water and sprinted back to the barn. He tossed the water onto a corner of the burning structure but it was too little too late. As he watched, the roof caved in. Allen stumbled back, hot air singing his face.
The barn collapsed entirely, the walls falling in on themselves. Allen could only watch as it burned to the ground. Allen cursed violently and hurled the bucket to the ground. Giving the barn up for lost, he hurried to check the roof of the house for sparks. He could hear the dogs inside; they were barking up a storm, but he couldn't afford to pay them any attention. He climbed up a small ladder to the roof and ran around checking for sparks. The roof was free from sparks and embers. Uttering a silent prayer, Allen climbed back down to the ground.
Angrily, Allen glanced back towards the barn. His family was visiting friends far to the south. This was his second night alone. Allen rubbed his eyes dazedly, then pinched the bottom of his arm, hoping that this was all a terrible dream. The barn was everything to him, and his father.
A flash of movement caught his eye. He saw a tall, bulky figure run into the woods, away from the remains of his family's livelihood.
Arsonist. Allen thought. He hurried inside the house and took one of his father's dirks from the tool cabinet. It was a long, double sided blade. He strapped the sheathe to his leg.
"Bill! Come here!" Allen's favorite (and most aggressive) dog trotted over. Unlike the other dogs, Bill didn't bark. Instead, he because deathly silent when his master called, or when he sensed stress.
Allen opened the door and released Bill, then followed him into the night. Knife in hand, Allen trailed after Bill's near silent snarls. He followed the dog towards the far side of the still burning remains of the barn. Bill skirted the hot embers and Allen followed stealthily. It was hard to see in the flickering firelight, and so Allen kept his knife in his right hand, ready for quick action.
Bill hesitated and growled more loudly. Allen crept forwards, eyes scanning for the arsonist. He saw no sign of the bulky figure, but a hint of color caught his eye. There was a small figure laying on the ground only a few meters away from the burning wreckage of the barn. Allen covered his face with his shirt to protect himself from the heat.
"Bill, sit." He ordered. Then he walked towards the fallen figure. Allen made sure to check his sides, aware it could be an ambush. He had no wish to be robbed or killed. Allen nudged the body with his foot. The figure made no response. Whomever it was, Allen could see that they were badly burned. Obviously, they had been inside the barn when it had caught fire.
"Bill! Guard me!" Allen's father had taught Bill several commands like this and Bill obeyed instantly. The massive dog stood up and paced in a circle around Allen. Allen sheathed his knife, and carefully picked up the body. It was surprisingly light, and Allen hurried back towards the house. The stranger, from what Allen could tell in the dim light, was dressed in cloth dyed a dull purple color. There was a charred bandana covering the stranger's face. Allen kicked open the door and rushed inside. He lay the stranger on the kitchen table and lit several candles and one oil lamp. Then he shut and locked the door. Then he grabbed the carefully prepared first aid bag. The dogs moved nervously between the front door and the kitchen, unsettled by the smell of smoke.
Allen pulled the bandana off the stranger's face and stepped back in surprise. The stranger was a girl. He had assumed that it would be a man. She had a soft, but thin face, and dark hair. Allen could see burns on her cheeks. Shaking his head, Allen leaned down close to her face. He could hear the whistling sound of her breathing. Allen picked up his dagger and cut off the drawstring of her purple cloak. Then he carefully pulled the garment out from under her. Her hands were bare and looked badly burned, but Allen also noticed dark patch on her abdomen. Its color was different from the rest of her garments. Allen touched it cautiously and his hand came away sticky with blood. Allen cursed again and, muttering a soft apology, he cut open her shirt. There was a tiny, curved knife embedded in the top right of her abdomen, just below her ribcage. There was a crude attempt at bandaging around the wound. Allen cut the bandage away. His father had taught him basic first aid, and he knew that the blade couldn't stay where it was. He rinsed the area with clean water, then used his fingertips to open the wound slightly around the knife. He had done a similar operation on a cow, but that was definitely different. The girl moaned in pain, but then Allen had the knife out. The incision was bleeding freely, but Allen stitched it up and put a fresh square bandage on top. The bleeding slowed and finally stopped. Allen washed his hands, feeling them shaking slightly. He rested for a second, recovering from the stress of mini surgery. After a minute, he treated the burns with cool water and some of his mother's special cream. he wondered briefly is he had done everything right, but the girl was still breathing, so he decided that he was probably on the right track.
Bill paced around the table, excited by the smell of blood, "Bill, go sit down." Bill bared his teeth in a smile and went to sit down. Allen cleaned the blood off of the table and threw the dirty bandages into the fireplace. The house was still filled with the orange light from the burning barn, although at this point it was unrecognizable. Allen hoped that their old horse had made it out, but somehow he doubted it.
Remembering the shadowy figure, Allen barred the front door. He was fairly confident that the dogs could warn him if the arsonists returned. Allen sat down in his father's favorite chair to rest. And although he meant to stay awake and watchful, he quickly fell asleep.
