I run through the dark house, dodging the furniture. I race down the hallway toward the door to Jonah’s wing. He is in the playroom. I tell myself I have time enough to do this.
My hands are shaking so badly that I can’t swipe the card. I fumble and drop it. I hear him move from the playroom into the big living area. I swipe the card, and the light glows green. I push the door open.
I run down a short hallway. His bedroom door is open. There is a twin bed with a blanket, a chest of drawers, and a wall crammed with computer equipment. Hank has told me where the panel is. I race to it and swipe the card, getting it right the first time. The light shifts to green and I open the panel.
My fingers scrabble down the neatly lettered spaces.
SECURITY WALL. I turn the switch from ON to OFF.
BOATHOUSE SECURITY. OFF.
His arms are suddenly around me, around my waist, and he lifts me up as though I am a doll and throws me. I land hard on my knees. He drags me by one arm. I am screaming at him to stop, the pain is so bad in my arm, but he’s not hearing me. His gaze is cloudy; his face is red with panic and rage.
Suddenly, he throws himself down on the rug next to me. I smell smoke again, but this time I know it’s real.
“Lizbet,” he says, curling up next to me, holding me down with one arm. “This time I won’t leave you.”
The generator kicks in, and the lights come on. I see his face, his unseeing eyes. I cringe when he strokes my hair.
I get a flash of his stroking his sister’s hair. They are lying on the floor, waiting to die.
Smoke is in the room, and Lizbet is coughing.
Suddenly, Jonah raises his head.
He tries to pull Lizbet, but she slumps down.
He sees something—a light? He crawls toward it.
And I am back again here, with my head on the rug, and Jonah’s hand on my head.
A moment ago, all that was in my mind was a scream. I couldn’t focus or think. Now I know the only way out of this is to think.
“You left me last time,” I say.
He ducks his head to my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I came back inside to get you. I didn’t realize it would be so bad. I had to get out. This time I won’t leave without you. This time I’ll do it right.”
That’s it, I think. I have it now. This time, he won’t be the one to get out. Getting it right means he’ll stay with Lizbet. Stay in the fire.
“Let’s go out together,” I say. I can’t see the fire, I can’t feel it, but I can smell it and the panic is shivering up my legs.
He raises his head and looks into my face tenderly. “I won’t leave you.”
“Jonah, please,” I beg. “Please.”
“You are my family,” he says. “Let’s just go to sleep.”
The smoke is in my lungs now.
I press my face down as far as I can, to find air.
I can’t breathe.
I cough and cough. My lungs are filling up with blood.
My lungs are filling up with smoke.
Smoke and blood.
My mother is dying.
Lizbet is dying.
I am dying.
They burst back in the room then, all the kids, every one of them. My face is pushed into the carpet.
I’m coughing, but there is no smoke in the room.
But the smell is real. The fire is in another part of the house.
Torie grabs Jonah’s arm, Hank grabs the other, Jeff grabs him by the neck, and all together they pull him off me. He kicks and screams like a child, bawling, his face red, but they manage to hold him back until I’m on my feet.
They drop him, and we run for the door. He’s on his knees, struggling to get up.
Somehow we scramble through the door. Smoke is hanging in the living area. We run to the front door.
The fresh air is a relief. It is a surprise to me to see that the sun is shining. That seems the strangest thing of all.
The door is open in the wall, and we race through it. He is still running after us, running across the beach barefoot, as we reach the boathouse door. They’ve propped it open, they were smart. We race down the dock, jump into the boat.
Torie gets behind the wheel. “Does anyone know how to drive this thing?”
He’s on the deck now, pounding toward us. “Don’t go!” he roars. “Don’t go! Please!”
Tate jumps into the pilot seat and turns the key that is dangling from the lock. He does something else and the boat begins to move. Jonah jumps from the deck, his arms whirling, his legs pumping. We feel his hands slap the boat and then the boat is moving and he goes under.
Jonah appears above the water. The wake of the boat slaps him in the face. His mouth is open, sucking in air, sobbing.
His gaze locks on mine. “You’re my family!” he shouts.
“I have a family,” I whisper as the boat chugs out to the open sea.