“Dad, That’s Mommy!”—But He Had Buried Her Three Years Ago

“Arthur,” Daniel snarled into the pitch black.

“I told you to bring the boy to me, Daniel,” Arthur’s voice echoed down the stairs, calm and terrifyingly disappointed. “I gave you everything. A career. A wife. A child. And this is how you repay my investment?”

“He’s my son!” Daniel yelled, pushing Sophie and Noah behind him.

“He is foundation property,” Arthur corrected smoothly. “Now, hand up the folder Dr. Aris just gave you, and send the boy up the stairs. If you do, I will let you and Sophie walk away.”

“You’re a liar,” Sophie shouted. “You killed Elias!”

“Elias was an obstacle,” Arthur replied. “You two are merely inconveniences. Send the boy up.”

“Never,” Daniel said.

A heavy silence fell over the cellar. Then, the sound of a bolt sliding into place above them.

“Then you will burn with the cabin,” Arthur said. “I’ll collect the boy’s remains. The marrow will still be viable for a few hours.”

The smell of gasoline began to seep through the floorboards.

Panic erupted in the dark. Sophie screamed, clutching Noah. Dr. Aris began pounding on the walls.

Daniel felt around wildly. His hand brushed against the kerosene lamp he had brought down. He hadn't lit it yet because of the cellar lights.

“The stairs are wood!” Dr. Aris cried. “He’s pouring it down the crack!”

Daniel’s mind locked into survival mode. “Dr. Aris, is there ventilation in this cellar? A storm drain?”

“No! Just the air vent behind the cot!”

“How big?”

“Too small for an adult! Maybe a foot wide!”

Daniel dropped to his knees. “Noah. Buddy, I need you to be braver than you’ve ever been.”

“Dad, it smells bad,” Noah coughed.

“I know. Listen to me.” Daniel found Noah’s face in the dark and held it. “There’s a tunnel behind the bed. You’re going to crawl through it. When you get outside, you run into the trees and you hide. Do not come out until you hear my voice. Do you understand?”

“I can't leave you and Mommy!”

“You have to,” Sophie said, pressing her forehead against Noah’s. “We love you so much. Go. Now.”

Daniel and Dr. Aris pulled the heavy cot away from the wall. Daniel kicked the metal grate covering the vent. It held. He grabbed the iron poker and smashed it against the screws. With a loud crack, the grate fell away.

Above them, the unmistakable sound of a match striking.

Fire roared instantly. The staircase ignited, casting a hellish orange glow into the cellar. The heat was immediate and suffocating.

“Go!” Daniel shoved Noah into the small shaft. The boy scrambled forward into the darkness.

“Daniel!” Sophie screamed. The flames were licking down the walls.

Daniel looked at the flaming stairs. He looked at the heavy trapdoor above.

“Get back,” Daniel ordered.

He didn't run away from the fire. He ran toward it.

He wrapped his thick winter coat around his arm, gripped the iron poker, and charged up the blazing stairs. The flames scorched his face and seared his lungs. He reached the top, ignoring the agonizing pain in his arm, and drove the sharp end of the poker upward into the wooden trapdoor with every ounce of strength he had.

The wood splintered. He struck again. And again.

The bolt gave way. The door flew open.

Daniel hauled himself out of the fire, rolling onto the floor of the cabin.

Standing ten feet away, holding a gas can, was Arthur. He was older than Daniel remembered, his silver hair perfectly styled, his bespoke suit immaculate.

Arthur looked mildly surprised. He reached into his coat and pulled out a suppressed handgun.

“Tenacious, Daniel. Just like your father.”

Arthur raised the gun.

CRACK.

A rock the size of a baseball slammed into the side of Arthur’s head. The older man stumbled, dropping the gun.

Daniel looked toward the broken window.

Standing outside in the rain, holding another rock, was Noah.