Chapter 3 - Fire and Shadows
"Dan! Secure the child and the mother!" Miller barked, abandoning all pretense of standard medical protocol as he lunged forward.
Dan didn't hesitate. With the practiced efficiency of someone who had worked dangerous urban routes, he scooped Addie into his arms—oxygen mask strapped securely over her small nose and mouth—and hooked his other arm around my waist, lifting me up from the floor before I could even process what was happening.
"Let me go! My daughter—" I screamed, thrashing against Dan’s grip.
"She's safe, I've got her, we're moving now!" Dan shouted over the sudden, violent crash coming from the hallway.
Luke hadn't waited. The moment Miller moved, Luke pivoted with unnatural speed, diving down the dark corridor toward the back bedrooms. But he wasn't running away—he was heading toward the utility closet where the main gas valve and the old breaker box were housed.
"He's going for the gas!" I gasped, the memory of Luke's chilling words—houses catch fire with everyone inside them—flashing through my mind.
Miller drew his heavy flashlight and radio combo, sprinting after him down the narrow hall. "County Dispatch, code three backup to 442 Elm Street! Suspect is fleeing, potential explosive sabotage, repeat—"
His voice cut off as a heavy thud echoed from the back of the house, followed by the shattering of glass.
Dan pushed me and Addie backward through the front door, tumbling off the porch and onto the wet grass just as a dull, concussive boom rumbled beneath our feet. The lights inside the house flickered violently and died. Thick, gray smoke began to billow out from the kitchen windows, smelling faintly of scorched wire and accelerant.
"Addie! Addie, baby, look at me!" I cried, falling to my knees beside Dan in the mud.
Addie’s eyes fluttered open beneath the plastic mask. The terrifying blue tint around her lips was beginning to fade, replaced by a pale, exhausted pink. She gave a weak, shaky nod, her small hand clutching the edge of the oxygen mask as Dan adjusted the tank flow.
"She's breathing on her own. Heart rate is stabilizing," Dan panted, wiping rain and sweat from his forehead. "Paramedic Miller is still inside. We need fire and rescue out here now."
Sirens wailed in the distance, cutting through the steady patter of the rain like a knife. Two, maybe three police cruisers rounded the corner of our quiet suburban street, their emergency lights painting the wet pavement in blinding slashes of red and blue.
I looked back at the house. Flames were already licking at the kitchen window frame, casting jagged, dancing shadows across the lawn.
And right there, framed by the front doorway through the billowing smoke, Miller stumbled backward, coughing violently, one hand clamped over a bleeding cut on his forehead.
He wasn't alone.
Luke was right behind him, but he wasn't fleeing. He had Miller’s heavy utility radio in one hand, and in the other, a jagged piece of broken porcelain from the shattered bathroom sink.
"Stay back!" Luke shouted, his voice echoing over the rising wail of the approaching fire trucks. His eyes were wide, manic, completely unhinged now. The mask of the polite, quiet accountant was completely burned away, leaving only the feral predator beneath.
May you like
He looked straight at me across the burning yard, his lips curling into a snarl.
"You should have stayed in Chicago, Sarah," Luke laughed, his voice cutting through the wind. "You thought you brought home a husband. You just brought home a corpse waiting to happen."
