Screams woke them both. Never-ending, frantic, half-crazed screams.
Eric was awake and alert in an instant. Shirtless and barefoot, he was already halfway out the door and yelling at Jackie to stay put when she finally registered that something was very, very wrong.
Heedless of his order, she made her way to the door after him. She saw his dark figure sprinting way ahead of her towards the village center, and what she registered in horror, must surely be the biggest, scariest, most frightening fire she had ever seen before in her entire life.
Fingers of orange flames reached high, burning bright against the inky black of the night sky. She could feel the heat of it from where she stood. She half-ran, half-walked towards the burning dwelling, dazed at the sheer monstrosity of it, fear curling at the bottom of her stomach.
Screams sounded all around her, and amidst the chaos of the scene, she could see that some of the villagers, mostly men, had already formed a haphazard line from the well to the hut that was aflame and were frantically passing wooden buckets, pots, pans and even reed baskets along in an attempt to put out the fire.
Women were running about, clutching babies in their arms, dragging toddlers away to safety. But there was no order, no clear direction and most of them didn't know where to go. A great number of them she saw were still desperately running into their homes, returning with arms full of their belongings, afraid that they too, would lose them to the flames if the fire spread. It was a very real possibility, for the huts were built close to one another, and if it spread, the entire village would be razed to the ground come morning.
She grabbed one of the running women by the arm.
"Go to the schoolyard!" Jackie shouted in what she knew of Swahili.
The woman's frightened eyes met hers in dazed confusion.
"Schoolyard!" she hollered at the top her lungs.
Several of the women stopped to stare at her, and for once in her life, Jackie thanked the heavens that she possessed one of the shrillest, most strident voices ever owned by womenkind. And as understanding dawned, they turned as one to head towards the schoolyard Eric was building. The safest place to be, for it was not only upwind, but a separate feature away from the thatched roofs and flammable wood that made up much of the village.
She ran towards the burning building again, and relief filled her as she saw Eric's unmistakeable figure in the black smoke pouring from the building. He was in the thick of it, shouting orders and directing people into two lines to putting out the flames.
A crying child stood in the middle of the narrow path, a few huts away from the burning one, apparently lost in the midst of the mayhem and disorder and Jackie made her way towards him, coughing as the wind carried plumes of smoke in their direction.
She swept him into her arms just as his sister came running up towards them. She recognized them both instantly, for they were Afia's two older children.
"Deka!" Jackie cried. "Where's your mother? Tell her to take you and your brother to the schoolyard now. I have to help Eric."
A loud crash sounded in the distance and Jackie realized that a beam had fallen in. There were shouts as sparks flew and the thatched roof on the next hut caught fire.
She whirled back to face the little girl. "Go to the schoolyard. It's safe there. Go now, quickly!"
"No, no," the young girl replied, and Jackie saw that her frightened face was stained with tears. "Mother said run. She ees in hut. Can't get out."
For a moment Jackie wasn't sure what she was hearing. Then terror set in as understanding dawned. She switched to Swahili and knelt down to meet the girl's eyes.
"In the hut? Is that your hut?" she spoke as she pointed a trembling finger towards the burning inferno that was once a beautifully constructed hut that she had spent many happy hours in.
The young girl nodded, sniveling, and her brother burst into fresh bouts of tears.
"Meester Erik, he be trying tah save her."
There was a roaring in Jackie's ears as she turned slowly to the tall form not all that far away from her.
She saw him throw a blanket around his shoulders.
She heard him yell something indecipherable at the line of men, and someone doused him with water.
He shook back water from his hair and pulled the now sodden blanket up over his head.
The next thing she knew, he had disappeared into the flaming pyre of wood and straw.
She screamed.
And screamed and screamed. When she finally saw that she was sending the two children next to her into a second wave of panic, she stopped abruptly and pulled herself together. They were clinging to her legs tightly and wailing at the top of their lungs along with her.
She forced Eric from her mind and gathered them close, whispering comforting nonsense with tears in her eyes. Then she took off into a run with them in her arms. Her vision was blurry, but she knew her way unerringly to the schoolyard and could get there blindfolded.
As she approached the schoolyard, she spotted Morathi immediately, with his familiar shock of white hair, shepherding the women and children into organized lines. The children found their aunt among the women, and willingly left her arms for those of Afia's sister's. Jackie explained to the anxious woman that she was going to help as much as she could, and promised to be back soon.
Her actions though precise and calm were belied by the half-crazed look in her eyes as she thronged the crowd for Ebele. She found her dispensing smelling salts to an elderly woman and grabbed her arm.
"Please, you have to come. Hurry! They might be hurt. He might be hurt."
Her words came out in a mad jumble, a mix of Swahili and English, but the medicine woman seemed to understand her. She nodded.
When they re-entered the village, they found that the fire had spread to the neighboring hut, and the men had formed three lines between the well and the fire. Half of the roof of Afia's hut had fallen in, and Jackie was beside herself with distress.
She ran towards the front of the line searching frantically for Eric, but she didn't see him anywhere. She felt Ebele rush past her in a flurry of skirts and zoomed in on the huddled figure of Afia sitting in her husband's arms.
"Afia!" she cried, and ran after Ebele towards her.
Shouts continued to fill the night, and she felt the splatter of water as the men hurled it towards the flames. The heat of it up close was near to unbearable.
Eric Eric Eric. His name played over and over in her head, as if by chanting it she could conjure him up before her.
Afia seemed to be alright, and Jackie fell to the ground next to her and hugged her tightly around the circle of her husband's arms.
"Eric! Where's Eric?" she asked desperately when she released her.
In her heightened state, she failed to notice that Afia was not responding nor did she notice the glazed look in her friend's eyes.
"She in shock," Ebele told her, and exchanged a look with Afia's husband, Dakarai.
Jackie looked into his eyes and noticed that they were grief-filled and fixed on the crumbling building behind her. Despite the noise and shouts and utter bedlam going around her; for Jackie, one could hear a pin drop. She drew back suddenly.
"Where's Desta?" she asked Dakarai, almost quietly, calmly even. She repeated her question as her voice grew shrill. "Where's Desta?"
Tears shone in his eyes and the orange of the fire glinted off the sheen of sweat on his ebony skin. He nodded towards the burning hut, his arms still tight around his wife.
"He be inside. Meester Erik went in to get him after he bring out my Afia."
Nooooooooo!
"Eric!" Jackie screamed and unthinkingly ran towards the fires, hell-bent on single-handedly saving him from certain death.
The heat of it was impossible, and Jackie threw up her arm uselessly to shield from it. All of a sudden, the remaining half of the roof caved in with a loud crash and sparks and splinters of wood were sent flying over her and the men in the front line.
She shrieked in terror. "Eric!"
A strong arm closed around her waist and pulled her back from the flames, and she sobbed and railed helplessly against Ebele's bigger and much sturdier form.
"No! No, Miss Jackie. Nuh-thing you can do."
Eric's eyes were burning, his skin was burning, his sweat was burning, and he could only take in air in short, scalding gasps. There was just about a foot and a half between him and the angry flames above, and he pushed his body along on his elbows on the floor of the hut, keeping as low to the ground as possible. The ground was made of mud, and slightly cooler than the swirls of smoke and fire raging above him.
Stove, stove, where was the damnable stove?
He had dragged Afia out by the skin of his teeth, for she was hysterical and desperate somehow to stay in the burning hut. She raked at him and nearly clawed his eyes out when he had finally discerned in the barely decipherable flow of words she had been screaming at him that she had tossed the baby under the stone stove in a desperate attempt to save him when the beam had fallen down on them.
He somehow managed to calm her down, and in the midst of the flaming furniture and under the burning roof, promised her that he would save the baby or die trying, before the fight went out of her and she collapsed in his arms.
The crowd had cheered when he had re-appeared to deposit Afia in Dakarai's arms, and then a collective silence had ensued when he had rushed in again to get the baby.
His eyes were burning. He felt like his skin was near to goddamn melting, and every breath he took was sheer agony. But there was no way he was letting another baby die.
Please be alive, please be alive. Please God, let him be alive.
He pushed himself forward, inch by inch and a flash of grey to the right caught his eye. The stove! He saw a wailing, wriggling bundle on the floor under it and sent a heartfelt prayer heavenward, for he knew that Desta was alive.
And that was when the other half of the roof caved in on them.
Heat. So much heat.
The crackle of the flames woke him, and he realized that he had been knocked unconscious and it was only by some miracle that he was alive.
Oxygen was thin and they were fast running out of air. The sound around him was deafening to his ears: wood snapping and sputtering. The smoke undulating around him was heavy, and so thick, he could hear it billowing up and out through the non-existent roof.
So much noise, and yet, complete silence from the one sound that he wanted to hear — Desta had stopped crying.
Panic set in and his heart rate accelerated. He started taking in more breaths of air than he needed and his thoughts were all over the place. He lost sense of which direction he was supposed to be crawling in and a fine trembling started through his body. Despair, black and hollow, filled him and he tasted defeat so vile, he wanted to die right there along with the baby.
Through sheer force of will, he commanded himself to focus, and with some difficulty managed to get his emotions under control again. Almost instantly, his heart rate slowed, and his thoughts cleared. He refused to dwell in the past, on the babies that he could not save, and concentrated instead on the one that he could still save.
He inched along to the right, towards the grey stone, and his heart sank when he saw a hefty plank of wood burning like a torch in front of it.
He was tiring fast, and the blanket that he had had over himself had fast dried, and was of no use as a form of protection now. He used it to wrap his hands instead, and lying flat on the ground, tried to lift and throw the wooden beam blocking the stove aside.
Smoke stung his eyes and Eric hissed with effort, but he barely managed to move it an inch. Sweat was pouring down his face and he could make out the vague form of the swaddled child behind the flaming beam.
He sidled slowly as close as he could to the beam, and tried again to clear the way to the child, but his movements were slow and sluggish and the beam didn't budge. He sucked in labored breaths of scalding air, and his nostrils burned.
He fixed his eyes on the child, never once looking away from him.
The bundle twitched.
It twitched! His heart leapt at the sight and he tried to call to him, to reassure him, but his throat was burnt raw. Spurred on, he grunted and tried again to flip the beam aside. The cloth around his hand caught fire. He swore.
The bundle twitched again. Desta was alive, Eric was sure of it.
Fuck it. He pushed himself up to a mid crouch to gain more leverage.
He knew it was a mistake the moment he decided to do it, but he did it anyway. Already weak from the lack of oxygen and the unbearable heat, his movements were not as quick as he had anticipated. Before he could haul the beam away from the stove, the heat from the flames above singed the skin off his back and he fell to his knees in acute agony.
He gritted his teeth against the pain, and steeled himself against the wave of dizziness that assailed him. He crouched low on shaky knees, forcing himself to breathe as much as he could, then gathered the courage, and the strength, to push himself up again.
He let out a strangled cry as the flames seared his back. With a herculean effort, he forced himself to pull off the burning beam before the pain and nausea brought him staggering to the ground.
His vision swam. The air was so thick. His head hit the floor and he lay there prostrate.
The path to the stove and the child lay clear of the flaming beam, but he could not muster the strength nor the energy to move any further.
His breathing slowed. His eyelids were heavy and the heat didn't seem to bother him so much anymore. It was almost… Soothing.
On a good ship. Lollipop.
It's a sweet trip to the candy shop.
His eyes flew open. No.
He struggled to his elbows. They gave out and he dragged himself along the floor towards the hollow under the stove. His muscles strained. His back hurt like a motherfucker. He hurt everywhere. His eyelids started to fall shut again. He forced them open. No.
The baby chose that moment to let out a plaintive wail. It was all the push that Eric needed. Adrenaline he could have sworn he no longer had shot through his veins and he pulled himself forward inch by painful inch. Nearly collapsing with relief, he got close enough to scoop the baby up to him.
Desta was weak, but seemed to be alright. Eric stumbled to a half-crawl and used his body to shield the baby from the worst of the heat and flames. He no longer felt the pain in his back and he wondered inanely if it was a good or bad thing.
Somehow, he managed to pick his way through the blazing debris out of the hut. He would later remember nothing but a hazy vision of smoke and fire and the feel of a baby against his chest, but he barely knew how he managed to get out of there alive.
"Let me go! Let me go!"
Jackie was sobbing uncontrollably, pushing and kicking against Ebele ineffectively, and at that moment she hated the fact that she was small.
A sudden cheer among the men had her looking up, her sobs ceasing abruptly. She saw Eric stagger out from the burning hut in a half-crawl and her heart stopped. A few of the men dashed forward to pull him and Desta away and out of danger.
"Eric!" she screamed, and then screamed again when she saw him reel and sway and fall to his knees. She pushed free from Ebele, who was rushing towards him at the same time. "Eric!"
It was Afia who got there first however. She grabbed the baby that Eric held out to her, cooing and sobbing and thanking him all at the same time.
He barely heard her, the adrenaline had left him and the lack of air and his injuries had finally gotten to him. He collapsed on the ground.
Jackie fell to her knees next to him in a fit of tears and hysteria and nearly fainted when she saw the mess that was his back. She cushioned his head on her lap and rocked with him, stroking his face, murmuring his name over and over again.
"Omigod, Eric. Omigod. Ebele. Ebele, please, please you have to help him. Please."
His breathing was labored and frighteningly hollow and Jackie raised pleading eyes to Ebele. The medicine woman's face was grave and she knelt across her and ran experienced hands over his arms and legs, checking for any other grievous injuries.
Satisfied that there were none, she looked at his eyes and saw that his pupils were dilated and unfocused. She signaled to three of the village men who immediately came over and between the three of them, they managed to carry Eric to her hut.
Jackie was by his side the whole night as Ebele tended to him. There were other minor burns and cuts, but the worst of it was on his upper back.
The men had laid him flat on his front on a raised cot in Ebele's hut. It was the first time Jackie had been inside and had she not been so beside herself with fear and anxiety she would have been fascinated. Wooden shelves lined the walls and every bit of it was occupied with earthen or glass jars of what she could only assume were herbs of medicine of some kind.
Eric's back was a frightening sight. He was bleeding slightly, and the blood was tinged with a clear yellowish substance. The skin was red and raw for the most of it and raised with painful looking blisters. But there was an irregular patch between his shoulder blades that was white and leathery and there were parts along the edge of it that had turned black. Some of his skin within the area had shriveled and had taken on a waxy appearance. It was horrific and Jackie felt light-headed.
Ebele worked swiftly, assessing and dismissing the minor burns and cuts on his chest, arms and elbows. She turned her attention instead to the same area that had Jackie going weak at the knees, shaking her head and muttering under her breath.
Eric had been unconscious, but the moment Ebele had thrown water over his back to wash the wound he woke up roaring in agony. It took three men plus Ebele to hold him down, and even that was a struggle.
Disoriented and dazed from the mind-numbing pain and smoke that he had inhaled, Eric had briefly registered that he was being restrained and immediately went berserk. Shouts and yells ensued as he tried to throw the men off him, blind to the searing pain on his back. Ebele was bellowing at all of them to hold him still because he was doing more damage to the severe burns on his back.
Jackie had been frozen in place, eyes bright with tears and fear, unable to move as he seemed to be re-living some God-awful memory. She had stuffed her knuckles into her mouth, and a keening moan started from somewhere deep within her.
Another man came running into the hut and Ebele ordered him to take her place and keep Eric still. She came back with a glass of a milky-looking liquid and tried to force it down Eric's throat.
He growled ferociously at her and jerked his arm wildly, causing one of the men to come flying forward into Ebele. The glass crashed to the ground.
It brought Jackie leaping forward in a frenzy.
"No! Noo!" she screamed at them. "You're hurting him, let him go!" She latched on to one of the men's arms, trying to get him to let go of a struggling Eric.
"Miss Jackie. Jackie!" Ebele grunted and hauled Jackie bodily off. "Look at Ebele!" she commanded. "Look at me!"
Mercifully Jackie obeyed, responding to the tone of her voice. She raised half-crazed eyes to Ebele's calm and lucid ones. "Focus!"
Jackie nodded dumbly and somehow she started to get ahold of herself.
"Okay," she said her voice breaking. "Okay, what do you need me to do?"
"Ah need to sedate him," Ebele said as she moved briskly to fix up more of the milky liquid. She glanced at Jackie. "Ah cannot work if he fights me."
Jackie licked her dry lips and nodded.
Somehow they managed to get him to drink it. He fought them through it all. Amid the blur of her tears and pleas for him to forgive her she managed to help Ebele pour the liquid down his throat. It worked fast and his struggles grew weaker till eventually they ceased as the drug took him.
Ebele quickly got to work, cleaning up the wound as best as she could, before pulling jars off her shelves and creating some herbal smelling poultice that she slathered on his back before she covered the wound loosely with sterile bandages.
Jackie helped Ebele as best as she could, and when it was all done, she put her head next to Eric's on the cot and cried.