That was when the fire hit the propane tank.
It was like a scene in a superhero movie that she had seen once. Where the hero drove off a cliff, plummeting to the bottom where he perished in a huge explosion of fire and ash. The blast sending everyone running, throwing them into the air, their arms and legs flailing about.
The movies didn’t do it justice.
The heat.
The pressure.
It was more than she would have ever predicted, the force throwing her through the air, as Mark yelled out her name.
“Winter!”
It was quick.
The fire.
The explosion.
But to her it was a lifetime.
Watching as Mark’s body flew through the air.
Her Mark!
She heard Branson grunt before she felt the tree. Her head slammed back with her momentum.
Fire and flames the last thing she saw.
The destruction of hell from below.
Then nothing.
***
Her small little delicate hand was wrapped in his. The monitors the only sound around them, but he could hardly hear it.
His ears were still ringing.
The doctors had tried to see to him, but he wouldn’t have it.
He wasn’t bleeding. That was enough for him.
As soon as the propane tank exploded, he had gone flying, but he had already had a head start and the propane tank was tucked back on the other side of the deck away from the house.
She was so little.
The impact had sent her flying.
The tree hadn’t helped.
Other than hitting the ground hard, and knocking the breath out of him, he only had a few bumps and bruises. Nothing that some rest wouldn’t take care of.
It was the same words that the doctors were saying about his little bird.
That she just needed rest.
But they hadn’t watched her fly through the air.
