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September screwed her eyes tight against the flames. Her flesh blistered, charred and fell away. She struggled to breathe in the super-heated furnace of the burning barn. Her legs, cocooned in an ever-tightening noose, strangled every effort to escape. She clawed, flailed and bucked to get out, crawl away, to survive. A heavy weight crushed the air from her chest and pinned September to the hard pack dirt.
From far away Shadow yelped, followed by an anguished howl. Oh God, don't let him burn, too! Wet flame licked her face, and September screamed, screamed, screamed for a lifetime and only fell silent when her raw throat and heaving lungs failed. The relentless heat bathed her face again and again. Barks and whines cut through the fog of horror, hot air fanned her neck, and she recoiled — then recognized the sensation with a sob of relief. Not a furnace blast, but anxious dog panting. Canine whimpers sounded a counterpoint rhythm to each attention-seeking slurp-kiss aimed at her eyes and mouth. His icy nose shocked her out of the flashback.
Her heart still hammered its marathon sprint, and her entire body shook with chills despite the heat flushing her face. September kept her eyes closed. She told herself to breathe slowly, and managed to curtail gasps and unclench still tingling hands. Thank God, she had Shadow, her sweet baby-dog, to keep her safe, to anchor her in the real world.
"Good-dog, I'm okay." Shadow knew better, but saying the words gave her a goal. She put up a hand to block his enthusiastic face kisses. His wet fur was wrong.
Kinsler, the white terrier mix, got in one more slurp before she pushed him away. Shadow? She sat up with a gasp, disoriented.
Still in the barn. A different barn. Cold and wet, no choking smoke or flame. Tornado. The flood. The kids. Lenny. Steven.
A choked sob caught deep in her lungs. Her fault, her terrible fault. Steven, her dirty reminder, fruit of the trauma she'd never ever escape. But she'd never wished him ill, even put her life on the line to save him.
Then Steven was gone. And she was glad.
She was a monster. Only just for God to punish her, she deserved it, the taint on her soul she'd never scrub clean. But not Shadow, why punish him? His loyalty, his love, his innocence. They shared one heart. She'd bleed to death from his loss. The mind-numbing grief threatened to suck her back into the void.
Kinsler nose-poked her again, and more of her surroundings came into focus. Willie rode her legs like a pony. "Willie, get off."
The little dog scampered around, as the boy dismounted. "You were moaning and flailing around, and I didn’t want you to roll off the loft."
Her scowl silenced him. She pushed away the dizzy hopelessness before she fell back down the rabbit hole. September steeled herself. Get over it. Life wasn't fair. She wasn't meant to love, or be loved. Accept it. Move on.
"How'd you get up here?" She was afraid to ask about the other kids. She had no more grief to spend.
"It worked. That ladder thing we built, it worked." Willie couldn’t stand still, excited and happy, a kid on an adventure. "Nikki made us work together. Tracy's over there," he pointed to a corner of the loft, "and Nikki's helping Melinda climb up. Everyone's okay. Well, except for Lenny and Steven." His smile faded but his words remained hopeful. "Maybe they'll be okay, too."
She didn't answer. Easier to accept their deaths, ignore the hollow emptiness, and work to save the living. There’d be time later for a lifetime of regrets.
She wanted to scream to the heavens the depth of her loss. But she wouldn’t dare, not when children’s lives were lost. Her silence would be the worst betrayal of Shadow’s trust.
The wooden floor and upper walls reverberated as if a semi rammed the structure. Dust and straw sifted from the ridgepole. Water gush increased to a roar.
September scrambled to her feet. "What was that?"
"No no no!" Nikki crouched above the makeshift ladder. She nearly lost her balance when the floor shuddered. "Hang on, Melinda." Her frantic expression implored help.
September rushed to Nikki's side. Below, Melinda had a double-fisted grip on the bottom "rungs" of the horse panel, but her legs trailed in the water that poured out the open barn door so fast, the girl couldn't stand up.
"I'm slipping. I'm going to fall." Melinda's shriek made the rafters ring.
"No. You will not fall." September's temple throbbed and fists clenched, damned if she’d lose another kid. "Nikki, move back." September searched the loft for something, anything, to help.
Across the loft, Tracy poked around a stack of dusty wardrobe boxes. "Dammit, what are you doing? Leave that alone, Tracy." For the first time September noticed the baling twine that trailed from Tracy’s waist across the floor. She looked sharply at the other kids. "Are y'all tied together?"
Nikki nodded, pointing to twine that dangled from her waist over the edge of the loft. If Melinda lost her grip and water yanked her away, Nikki and the rest of the kids would jerk along like the tail of a kite. It worked both ways, though. They could give Melinda a toehold if they could keep from tumbling off the edge.
In the dark corner above the boxes hung a metal contraption with a large pulley that ran on an overhead track attached to a high beam. September had seen fancy multi-pulley contraptions re-purposed into lamps in antique stores, but this hay trolley worked. Melinda needed the extra boost to get her footing. This would work. Because it had to work.
"Nikki, cut loose that twine, but hang on to the end for all your worth." September rushed to the trolley as she spoke, caught and tugged the end until it followed, jerking along the overhead track. "Now give me your twine."
"I'm slipping. My hands feel numb." Melinda twisted and turned in the current.
"Don't try to stand, not yet. Going to get you some help, sweetie, hang on." Working fast, September threaded Nikki's end of the twine through and over the large metal pulley. "Melinda, when I say NOW, I want you to pull as hard as you can and grab the next rung up. Okay?"
Gathering the slack, September wrapped the twine around both hands, shouted, "NOW!" and pulled down with all her strength. The twine cut both palms, but the reel gathered the twine and levered Melinda upwards. September released one hand to get a grip further up, and sensed Willie take up the excess cord behind her and add his weight. She couldn't see Melinda's progress, but the weight and steady movement told her the girl must be moving. When Melinda’s red head poked over the edge, September dropped the twine to grasp the girl’s arm and pull her the rest of the way up. Willie grabbed her other arm, and the two fell into each other's arms.
September sat down on the wet floor, hardly noticing the burning cuts. She put her face in her hands, but had no more tears. Numb was good. Numb didn't hurt. If she started feeling again, her heart would shatter.
At least the kids were safe. She had to let Combs know and tell Claire she found Tracy. She wondered if Nikki's folks knew where she was. Happy endings for some, numb for the rest.
Her phone still had no signal. Even if it didn't go through, she sent a text to both Combs and Claire.
One of the wardrobe boxes, nearly as tall as Tracy, toppled as the little girl pulled threadbare clothes off the hanger bar inside. Rattling pill bottles spilled out all over the floor. Tracy crowed and danced around the loft with Grooby. "Told you so, Willie, told you told you. Magic pills."
