Chapter 5 - THE BOATHOUSE FIRE
The lighter hit the kerosene-soaked wood in slow motion.
The moment the silver casing struck the puddle, a volatile whoosh echoed through the boathouse. A wall of bright orange and yellow fire erupted instantly, racing across the rotting floorboards like a living, hungry beast.
The heat hit my face like a physical blow.
"Leo!" I screamed, lunging forward into the flames.
Marcus hadn't expected me to jump directly into the fire. He stumbled backward toward the edge of the interior dock, clutching Leo tightly to his chest as the flames formed a deadly barrier between us.
The dry, ancient wood of the boathouse caught immediately. Thick, black smoke began billowing toward the rafters, stinging my eyes and choking my lungs.
"Stay back, you fool!" Marcus coughed, shielding his face with his sleeve while dangling Leo dangerously close to the deep, freezing water below the dock. "You’ll burn us all alive!"
"Give me my son!" I roared, ignoring the flames licking at the legs of my trousers. I grabbed a heavy wooden boat oar from a nearby rack and swung it fiercely at the burning debris blocking my path, clearing a narrow walkway.
Leo was screaming now, a high-pitched, terrified sound that tore through my soul. "Dada! Dada!"
He was reaching out toward me. For two years, he had called me uncle. But in the terror of the flames, pure instinct took over.
I stepped through the gap in the fire, raising the heavy wooden oar.
Before I could swing it at Marcus, a figure slammed into him from the side.
It was Bianca.
My sister had followed me from the house. Her hair was disheveled, her designer clothes smeared with dirt, but her face was twisted into a mask of pure, desperate rage.
"Give him to me!" Bianca shrieked, wrapping her arms around Marcus’s neck and clawing frantically at his face.
Marcus roared in pain as her nails caught his cheek. He stumbled, losing his balance on the slick, rotting wood of the dock. His grip on Leo loosened.
"Arthur! Catch him!" Bianca screamed.
Marcus shoved Bianca violently backward. But as he did, Leo slipped from his grasp, tumbling toward the edge of the dock.
I threw myself forward, sliding across the burning floorboards.
I caught Leo by the fabric of his small shirt just inches before he plummeted into the dark water below. I yanked him hard against my chest, wrapping my body entirely around his small, trembling frame to shield him from the intense heat of the flames.
"I’ve got you," I gasped, coughing violently as the smoke grew thicker. "I’ve got you, son."
Leo buried his face in my neck, sobbing uncontrollably.
A loud, sickening crack echoed through the shed.
I looked up. Marcus had recovered his balance. He had picked up a heavy iron mooring cleat from a workbench and swung it brutally into the side of Bianca’s head.
My sister collapsed in a heap near the flames, completely unconscious.
Marcus stood over her, panting heavily, blood dripping from the scratches on his face. He looked at me, holding Leo on the ground, and a twisted, maniacal grin spread across his lips.
"You might have the boy, Arthur," Marcus wheezed, backing away toward the rear exit of the boathouse that led out to the exterior floating dock. "But you’ll burn to death trying to carry them both out!"
Marcus turned and bolted out the back door, leaving me trapped in an inferno with my crying son and my unconscious sister.
The fire was climbing the walls. The roof was groaning, preparing to cave in.
I had to make a choice.
I couldn't carry both of them at once.
"Leo," I said, looking into my son's terrified green eyes. "Hold onto my neck. Do not let go. Do you understand?"
Leo nodded frantically, clinging to me like a frightened monkey.
I stood up, hoisted Leo securely onto my back, and bent down to grab Bianca. I hooked my arms under my sister's shoulders and hauled her dead weight off the burning floor.
I staggered backward toward the main doors. The heat was unbearable. My skin felt like it was blistering. The smoke blinded me, turning the world into a gray, suffocating haze.
A massive burning beam crashed down from the ceiling, blocking the main exit entirely.
We were trapped.
I backed up toward the water, clutching my sister and my son, realizing with terrifying clarity that the only way out was to jump into the freezing, debris-filled lake.
Suddenly, a massive splash echoed from outside the boathouse.
Through the thick smoke, I saw a bright, blinding red light pierce the darkness over the water.
BANG.
A brilliant crimson magnesium flare shot through the open rear door of the boathouse, missing my head by inches and illuminating the entire interior in a harsh, blinding red glow.
I looked toward the exterior floating dock.
Standing there, illuminated by the dying sparks of the flare, was Evelyn.
She was holding a bright orange emergency marine flare gun in her frail, trembling hands. She had crawled her way from the oak tree to the emergency supply box on the outer pier.
May you like
She pointed the empty flare gun directly at Marcus, who had frozen on the dock, blinded by the sudden burst of light.
"Move, Marcus," Evelyn’s voice rang out, raspy but filled with the fury of a mother who had lost three years of her life. "Or I will shoot the next one directly into your chest."
