Chapter 8: Down in Flames
The walls of the attic trembled as the back door slammed shut.
Odd, I thought. He usually leaves through the front door.
I inched up in front of the old cracked window on the far side of the room and peered out. Through the thick layers of grime I saw his blurred shape as he unsteadily threw the gate open and let it close behind him. The gate—a six-foot black iron one with a heavy latch—wavered, fighting against the wind, before finally snapping shut with a loud click of the latch as the lock slid into place.
I fumbled with the rusted clasp keeping the window shut and forced it open. The window swung wide open, and the pane struck the side of the house, creating a loud cracking sound. I winced at the noise and drew back for a few moments, before edging back out again. Through the dark bars of the iron fence I saw him stumble to his car, and feel around in his pockets for the keys. After a minute he started jabbing at the car door until the key found the keyhole and he unlocked the car. He heaved what appeared to be a suitcase or something similar into the passenger seat.
I hadn't noticed it.
Moments later the engine began to hiss, and then the car roared to life and lurched backwards unsteadily. The wheels spun wildly, spewing gravel from either side. A spray of dust and granite spun up from beneath the front tires and pelted the windshield. He gave no notice. Instead he continued out of the driveway and down the street in the same lurching movements.
A thick, heavy scent wafted up towards my room with the steady pull of the wind and I wrinkled my nose against it. The deep smell of gasoline filled my nostrils and I pulled back, reaching out to close the window as I did. I didn't notice I had held my breath until I began to cough, and then I started gasping for cleaner air—which by the way was dry and musty, filled with dust.
The car must have sprung a leak…
I sighed and fell against the old, rotten wooden boards that made up the attic. The boards began to creak, and up in the rafters—some ten feet up, just before the ceiling began to slope and soon tapered off into the walls, tightly enclosing me in a slanted-walled space—a cloud of dark sawdust, carrying the scent of damp, rotten wood and decay, came raining down, pelting me with soft, small wood chips.
--
I woke up, startled by a rustling from outside, covered in an uneven layer of fine blackish-brown sawdust. Chips of wood had entangled themselves in her hair, and a ring of blackish powder reeking of rotten, soaked wood surrounded me. I cupped my hand over my nose to block out the stench. But a heavy scent leaked through my fingers and the smell of gasoline filled my nostrils again. I choked against the smell and felt my eyes water.
What's going on?
I heard a small rustling outside my window and cautiously approached it. A tree branch scratched the glass and a shiver slid through my spine.
I slowly undid the clasp on my window and pushed it open, carefully restraining myself from making any accidental noises.
Outside the sky was pitch black, and a veil of thick gray clouds blocked the moon form view. I strained my eyes against the darkness, and a slight movement in the far corner of the yard caught my eye. The wind began to rise, sending a gust lurching through the leaves and a tree branch snapped near the fence. The branch crashed onto the yard, making a wet slapping sound against the patio.
I shivered as the wind eased, but then it started back up again. A fierce gale swept the ominous clouds from the sky and a crescent moon peered through. A thin sliver of light leaked through the shadows and lit up a small portion of the yard. A shadow flitted deeper into the shadows, and I felt dread rise within me.
I moved toward the door, when a new, familiar scent tickled my nose. I whirled, and let out a choked cry as a curl of thick. Acrid black smoke began to dribble into my room. I shot toward the window and plunged my head through the smoke and looked into the yard.
Crimson flames danced wildly around the base of the massive oak nearest to my room. The small embers quickly rose up the tree trunk, fueled by the gusting winds and licking the bark, and accelerated down the branches. Crackling flames rolled down the branch that had scraped my window and leapt at it.
I staggered backward and shot to the door. I wrenched it open and a wall of smoke and fire greeted me enthusiastically. Through the glimmering flames I saw a dark shape dart towards the front door and tear off into the night.
I slammed the attic door shut and instantly pulled away. The wood was hot, and sparks had already begun to burn through the weakened wood, leaving black scorch marks where they had touched. I lurched towards my makeshift bed and rummaged around until I found my cell. I quickly jabbed in Inuyasha's number and prayed he's answer.
Ring…ring…ring…ring…ring…rin—
"Hello…?"
"Inuyasha?! Is that you?"
"S…Sango…?"
"Were you asleep?"
"I was."
"I-I'm sorry, but I need help."
"What's…wrong…?"
"I—I don't know! There's a fire and I'm t-trapped…" I faltered as a cloud of smoke filled my nostrils and surged down my throat. I coughed, and then heard a light snoring on the other end. "Inuyasha…?! Inuyasha, are you there?!"
There was an earsplitting crack as the window exploded into tiny fragments and a nerve-wracking explosion as the door crack in half, collapsed in on itself, and was then blasted into chips of wood by the raging fire. Shards of glass and chips of wood rained down on the attic floor as walls of fire closed in on me from both sides. The cell phone dropped from my hand and hit the ground with a muffled thump before disappearing into the smoke.
--
A loud knock on the front door woke Inuyasha up. He leaned out the window above his bed and bellowed "It's open!" before crashing back onto his mattress. His ear twitched the person who'd just entered rushed up the stairs and his nose twitched when his bedroom door opened. Kagome stood in the doorway, and blinked down in confusion at him.
"What?" he grunted.
"Don't we have a date tonight?"
"Yeah, so?"
"Why were you asleep?"
"You took so long to get ready I thought you forgot, so I took a nap."
Kagome blinked at him again and then turned away from him. She took a single glance at the room and spotted his cell on the floor near his bed. "Why is this here?" she asked.
"I got a call a little while ago, but I must've dozed off."
"Who was it?"
Inuyasha shrugged.
Kagome picked up the cell and said, "You haven't exited off the screen, and the phone says the call hasn't ended." Kagome put the phone to her ear. "Hello? Hello? Is someone there? Hello?"
"Give it here," Inuyasha ordered, straightening out his rumpled T-shirt and creased jeans. He took the phone form Kagome and twisted his ear to it. A series of sharp crackles and what sounded like roaring winds filled his ear. "What the…?"
"Can you remember who called you? You have to. It might tell us what's wrong."
Inuyasha's cloudy expression lifted instantly. "Oh, damn! It was Sango!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, and I bet the noise we hear is a fire. Damn big one, too. And I wouldn't be surprised if her father torched the house, or had someone torch it for him." The crackling abruptly stopped, and a shrill beep followed a long silence.
"Damn it! Why'd I have to fall asleep!?"
--
Another cloud of smoke billowed in with a rush of flame-feeding air through the shattered window. The smoke crept up my nostrils—despite me best effort to block it—and slipped down my throat. My throat itself had dried up along with my mouth, and an uncomfortable scratchy sensation took over.
I collapsed onto the floor in the corner farthest from the flames. I felt lightheaded, and colors began swirling in front of my eyes. My head spun.
I heard a distant babble of voices on the other side of the room, from where I dropped my cell, but there was a sudden hiss, and flashing blue sparks exploded from the origin of the noise. Scraps of the cell remains hit my face, but I paid little to no attention.
The connection had been lost.