Chapter 11

The Phoenix

"The phoenix hope, can wing her way through the desert skies, and still defying fortune's spite; revive from ashes and rise." Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

Emily laid down on the grass, feeling sick and in a lot of pain. She tried to sit up, but it made her head swim. So she stayed still, trying to recover, trying to ignore the burns on the backs of her legs.

Rossi ran to the door of the cabin and opened it, but the flames were too intense. Rossi shut the door again, and ran towards the back of the cabin.

"Morgan, I'm going to get Reid out of there!"

Garcia had seen the flash, and came running up the path. She glanced around the area in front of the burning cabin. Seeing Emily lying on the grass, she ran to her side.

"Em, what happened?"

"They torched the cabin." Garcia looked at Emily's legs. "It's ok. They're flash burns. Not very deep."

she smiled a shaky smile. "I'll be ok in a minute."

Garcia took her hand and looked over at Morgan

"Where's Reid?" she asked. Then sudden realisation hit her. "Oh no! He's not in there is he?"

Morgan didn't answer her question. He said, "Call the PD and have them set up road blocks. The UnSubs must not be allowed to take Jack anywhere. We don't know where they might take him. If we don't stop them now, we may never find him!" He thought of Hotch, fighting for his life. How would they ever explain this to him? If the injuries he had received didn't break him, losing his son surely would. "Have them declare an Amber Alert. We have to find Jack, and soon."

Leaving Garcia talking on the mobile, Morgan quickly followed Rossi round the back

-0-0-0-

There was a boarded up window at the back. Rossi forced his fingers under the edge of the sheet of ply, and ripped it off the frame. There was no glass in the window, and the fire was not so intense here. He sat in the edge of the sill, and swung his legs into the room.

Coughing and choking on the smoke, his eyes watering, he immediately got onto his knees where the air wasn't so noxious.

He couldn't see a thing, and he was having difficulty getting his bearings.

"Reid! Spencer! Can you hear me? Shout out so that I can find you!" Calling out sent him into a paroxysm of coughing. He thought for a moment that he was going to pass out. He felt dizzy and his lungs were screaming for clean air.

A creaking sound as the roof moved jolted him into action. The crackling flames seemed to get louder and burning timbers from the rafters began to fall around him.

He needed to hurry.

There was no reply to his call. Rossi crawled through the smoke, feeling in large arcs in front of him. He sighed with relief when his hand contacted Reid's arm.

Rossi had lost his bearings, and had no idea how to get back to the window. He pulled Reid across the floor so that he could get hold of him to drag him to safety.

He turned around, and attempted to drag Reid back the way he had come, but he couldn't think any more. He tried to shout out to Morgan, but this time, the coughing started straight away.

I'm not going to make it...

Rossi felt an unfamiliar feeling of panic flood over him. He fought to suppress it, and curled one arm around Reid's chest, dragging himself along with the other arm.

Burning debris was falling all around him. Once or twice, he had to beat out flames as his clothing caught fire. He thought he saw the square of the window up ahead. With a desperate effort, he pulled himself across the floor towards the promise of safety and air.

A grinding creaking sound presaged the crashing down of a roof timber. With his last ounce of strength, Rossi flung himself over Reid's body. The timber crashed down, catching Rossi on the back of his head. Blackness gulfed him, and he passed out.

-0-0-0-

He became vaguely aware that he was moving. Strong hands under his arms, and he was being dragged somewhere. He forced stinging eyes open. He tried to move his hands to his eyes to rub them but moving his hands was excruciating. He looked at them. They were burnt, backs and palms.

"Morgan?" he croaked

There was no one there. He found himself lying on the grass at the back of the burning cabin. Gulping lungfuls of air, he shakily sat up, and looked over to the window into the inferno. Morgan was lifting something out of the window.

"Reid!"

Rossi remembered. He had been trying to get Reid out, but the smoke had been too thick. The back of his head was hurting. Something had hit him, although he couldn't remember what.

"Reid? Morgan, is he ok?"

"I think so. I found you lying across him. He has managed to not get burnt, thanks to you. But I need to check out the GSW's. Two in the chest, as far as I can see, and no exit wounds."

"It was only a small calibre gun. Point two two or two five."

"They don't usually do too much damage." Morgan said. "Although by the look of the scorch marks, these were point blank."

Reid was starting to come round as the woodland air filled his starving lungs. "Can you walk, Rossi? I don't want to leave Emily and Garcia alone. Emily got burnt when the cabin went up."

"Jack!" said Rossi, remembering. Morgan touched his arm.

"It's ok, Rossi," he said. "Road blocks have been set up, and an Amber Alert initiated. We'll find him." He helped the older man to his feet. "I'll carry Reid. We ought to join the others."

-0-0-0-

The Toyota drove south on the 81. Maize didn't really know where she was going to go, just that they needed to get away from the area as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. She guessed there would be road blocks. She was annoyed with herself foe not getting Hotchner's guns out of the kitchen drawer, but it was too late now to have regrets.

She glanced over into the back seat. The kid and Bren were both asleep. She often marvelled at Bren's ability to sleep anywhere.

She saw the flashing blue lights in the rear view mirror.

Crap!

As she slowed down, she picked up her gun and put it in her lap between her legs. The police car pulled level with her and indicated for her to pull over.

Sighing with annoyance, she stopped the car. The police car stopped in front of her, and one of the cops got out and walked back to her window, which she had opened.

"May I see your license pl..."

His sentence was cut off as she discharged the point two five into his face through his eye. The shot killed him instantly. Maize had a moment of regret. He was a nice looking young man; she didn't really want to kill him.

But now wasn't the time for regrets. The other cop was getting out of the car, gun drawn.

She slammed the Toyota into drive and ran him down.

As she sped away, she glanced in the rear view mirror and saw the two dead cops in the road.

This is getting ridiculous. All we want is to be left alone, to be a family!

In the back, her two brothers slept on.

-0-0-0-

Aaron had come out of theatre, and was now in ICU. One leg was in plaster, but his right leg was just splinted. The bones had been relocated, and held with surgical steel plates. The wound was open to infection, and although the skill of the surgeon had allowed the leg to be saved for now, unless the infection could be brought under control, he could still lose it. There was a strong possibility of Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus infection, with such a severe break, left open and untreated for so long.

The cuts on his chest had been clipped rather than stitched. They hoped that this would lessen the scarring. His underarms were badly torn. They had re-attached muscle and blood vessels, but the nerves were a different matter. He might never get the full use of his arms back. The throat injury had broken the hyoid bone, something that happens in strangulation, and the whites of his eyes were stippled with petechiae.

A machine whirred as it ventilated his lungs, the tube resting against broken lips, and into his bruised throat.

He was still very poorly.

A young nurse stood by his bed. He had a high fever, brought on by the infection in his leg. Gently she wiped his face with a cool cloth. His eyes were taped shut, but she remembered them – dark and beautiful, but devoid of expression. She held his hand and felt his fingers curl around hers.

She felt sad when he tried to cry out in distress, as unknown dreams haunted him. She couldn't help him, except by being there. She wanted to put her arms around him and rock him, tell him that everything was going to be fine, and that this was only temporary.

"You are going to get better." she said softly to him. "I will stay right here until you do." and very unprofessionally, she leaned forwards and kissed his forehead.