“Hurry! The fire’s spreading!” With no time to assess my damage, I hobble the remaining distance and retrieve her bag. It’s abit weighted, but I manage to swing it over my shoulder and head back when her shriek slices the air. “It’s burning my legs!”
Small bumps form over my skin witnessing the car now drowning in smoke, sending a dead chill up my spine so intense, it’s as though the air’s temperature decreased.
“I’m coming,” I shout, dropping the bag and grabbing a club for each hand. Spasms in my ankle urge me to stop, but I can’t. Not when I’m this close to saving her.
Glass cracking fills the air once again, and behind it are more screams of distress. My legs pump with urgency, and I ignore the pain. “I can make it. It’s just a few…”
Abruptly, a massive explosion detonates into a roaring flame, followed by an unbearable shockwave colliding with my body. I’m launched back onto the dampened ground, releasing the clubs as I roll to a stop. Drops of rain cool my forehead, and a faint hum fills my ears. Agony throbs through my chest from the wind being knocked out of me, and with a groan, I flop to my side as muffled screams cover the space.
They aren’t coming from me.
My hands twitch as I force myself to my knees. Snared by the yellow and orange hue, the remaining air retracts from my lungs, and a pain much worse than physical hits me.No…Please, God, no.Shaking my head in disbelief, that irritable humming sound dissipates, and a new reality is born from another failure.
Flames consume the car in full, and her silhouette sits visible, staring back while her body jerks from the fire eating away at what’s left. She yells in agony until the fire swallows those too, and despite my body’s attempt to cement me from moving, I do so anyway.
There’s nothing I can do. That much is clear. But this happened because I was too slow, too weak, and too late. My hands graze over broken wood and car pieces, and my knees are soiled from dragging them through puddles, but I make it back to where the golf clubs lay, the spot of Death’s victory.
Another person I couldn’t save.
Her body melts within the flames, sitting motionless with one hand reaching out. She’s gone, and the scent of burning flesh weighs heavy as the last bit of her car is encased in fire–until even its silhouette vanishes.
“Why?” A cry erupts and my trembling hands pound the dampen ground. “Why! Why! Why! Why!” I repeat, like an answer will present itself. Hatred consumes me, and my skin itches from within, staring at each wisp of fluttering flames.
I rise, limping towards the smoldering car, and those same destructive flames retract as though they’re afraid of me. “I wish it was raining harder. She doesn’t deserve to be left here.” My empty pleas merge with the bellowing thunder from above.
Brakes screech, redirecting my attention. An all-black vehicle pulls over, and a man in a trench coat steps beyond the opening door.
Worry trickles from his throat. “Kyra, are you okay?” Scoffing, I turn towards the fire as it continues burning any trace of life within it. Now a roaring chaos, it continues engulfing her vehicle.
Lightning thrashes above us, and thunder howls a second after. “Come on, we should leave. It’s not safe, and this weather’s getting worse,” he instructs, but I disregard the attempted protection because Detective Jacob isn’t here on official business. Well, maybe he is. Me. I’m his ‘official business.’
It’s no surprise he made an appearance; hell, he was at Rosie’s funeral, parked four cars behind mine. It makes sense he’d follow me here.Nice of you to pointlessly appear now.
“Let me guess, Detective. You assume I did this also?” I narrow my gaze in his direction.
“We can discuss this later; you shouldn’t be so close to the scene,” he answers, continuing with his approach. Hissing radiates from what’s left of her car, and the fire begins to dissipate beneath the heavy rain, making it harder to see a couple feet in front of me.
I whisper, “We need to see who she was.”
“See who, who was?” Jacob bites.
“The car. There’s a woman in there–Wasa woman in there.” I correct myself.
“Shit.” His response seems caring. Perhaps he does. But my faith became nonexistent after the shit show he put me through with Rosie. Detective Jacob aborts any attempt to remove me and bolts back towards his vehicle. I listen to him call for backup as the responder asks for more information. When asked about the cause, his throat bobs. “Potential accident or…” Gripping his radio firmly, he adds, “Homicide.”
And there it is. The conclusion I waited for him to reach.
Aches from my ankle and chest surface, reminding me of the sustained bruises in my failed attempt. Death came for someone again and won. She’s a cruel bitch, hell bent on destroying everything around me, and it’s only a matter of time until herwillseeks mine.
The sun hides beneath the horizon, afraid to face me while illuminating the small flames fighting for survival. My eyes move past them and into the surrounding trees.Gone. Could I have been imagining that too?Maybe I am looking for someone else to blame.
“The cops are on their way. They’ll find out who she was and her next of kin. There’s nothing more you can do.” A semblance of assertiveness coats his tone. I push through the pain and walk past him. “Where are you going, Kyra?” he asks, noticing my tattered black dress is singed with rips along my stomach.
“Home. Unless you feel here and now is the best place suited for more unethical questioning?” Not bothering to look back, I add, “I’m sure you remember where I live.” My car isn’t far up the road, abandoned and probably still running. Regardless, I’ll walk home if it means no longer being inhispresence.
Once I’m sitting inside and away from prying ears, I test the resilience of my steering wheel. Wails of sorrow pour past my throat until the internal muscle becomes sore and bruised. My battered knuckles continue striking the steering wheel, crying until the depths of my tears run dry, and even my soaked clothes share the notion.I couldn’t save you, and I couldn’t save her.
It’s beena few weeks since the funeral, and home feels…empty.Lifeless. Sitting blankly at the table, I think back to how Rosie always woke me up with pancakes and eggs before work, and I’d have dinner ready before she returned for the evening. My job allows me to work remotely–the pleasures of working in cyber security. I create firewalls that can’t be hacked. Unless I’m the one hacking. I provide a good defense for protecting things others deem small, which is my selling point.Ironic.I’m also well versed in other aspects like code cracking.
