She opened the outer door and they dashed out, keeping to the line of the building. The night was dark and they ran unseen beneath a canopy of oak trees that had stood sentinel over the resort for a hundred years.
“Oh my God!” Louise gasped, leaning into the trunk of the nearest tree. “Look, Bee!” She raised a shaking hand.
Bee turned to look at the resort and covered her mouth to stifle a groan. The entire roof was in flames. With a great whoosh of air the fire crackled and shot twenty feet into the sky.
“Oh, God,” Louise moaned, sliding down the truck and sticking her legs out straight in front of her. “My home.” She reached her hand out then let it fall. Her expression told how devastated she was.
A low moaning sounded behind them and Bee snapped to attention. Bat in her hand, she turned and saw one of the afflicted standing on the other side of the tennis court. He was a large man, dressed in an old pair of blue jeans and a button up shirt. One of the sleeves was partially torn and flapped in the hot breeze. The right side of his face was covered in blood. He growled.
“Louise,” Bee spat, yanking her friend to a standing position. “We need to leave right now.” She gripped the hood of Louise’s ugly coat in her fist.
“But my home,” Louise spoke. Her eyes were only for the growing conflagration.
“One of them sees us,” Bee whispered hotly in Louise’s ear. “We have to go!”
Louise let Bee pull her away, staring the entire time at the fire.
The afflicted growled loudly and bolted across the tennis court. His feet tangled in the net and he went down. Bee breathed a sigh of relief and ran, tugging Louise along. They went wide around the house, keeping as close to the trees as they could. Bee knew they’d have little chance unless they reached her van. It had a full tank of gas and was stocked with food and water. The keys were zipped into the front pocket of her jacket. She could feel their reassuring weight bouncing as they ran.
Louise was tiring quickly. Bee could hear her ragged breathing and she was supporting more and more of her friend’s weight. Bee had played softball all of her life and that included a lot of running. Even in the senior league — they called it the Golden Hitters — most of the players still ran. She wasn’t winded yet but an old injury in her right knee was beginning to clamor.
They stopped at the northern edge of the resort. The fire hadn’t reached this part of the building yet but Bee could feel the heat on her back, making her brow bead with sweat. The van was parked in the open carport just around the corner.
“Wait here and get your breath back, Louise,” she instructed, leaning her out-of-breath friend against the stucco wall. The tan paint looked red in the light of the fire. “I’ll get the van.”
Louise nodded, coughing and gasping. She had no breath with which to answer.
“Stay here,” Bee reiterated.
Bee dashed around the corner, keeping low along the wall. There was a loud crash from above and she glanced up, expecting to see falling beams burned and charred. There was nothing but a star filled sky that shadows of flames colored with their dangerous brilliance, and a growing mass of smoke.
She reached the corner of the building and peeked around it, touching the stucco lightly. Bee noticed absently that the material was warm beneath her fingers. The fire would spread this way and they needed to be far away when it did. What she saw made her gasp. A noise that was lost to the snarling of an afflicted and the sudden shouts of men.
There was a group of three men, all with dark skin and dark hair. They were well-built and handsome and looked like brothers. Bee recognized them immediately as the men Louise’s father had turned away. One held a flaming torch and Bee knew now why the resort burned.
“Damn stubborn bull-headed man,” she whispered vehemently. “And I’m the stupid one for being too afraid to stand up to him.” She saw, in her mind eye, Louise’s father standing on the expansive front porch, gesturing into the air. He’d told the men to leave in no uncertain terms and Bee had stood inside, cowering and saying nothing.
It’s too late now, Bee darling, her late husband’s voice whispered through her mind, ever present and pragmatic. Save yourself and Louise. She cannot fend for herself, Frank spoke.
Those words galvanized Bee. She would get Louise to safety and herself as well if she could manage it.
She had retreated to the safer side of the wall and peeked around again. The scene changed. The afflicted stood before the men, growling and snapping. His guttural noises could be heard over the crackling of the inferno. He lunged at the men and the torchbearer swung the flames toward the afflicted’s face. Bee gasped with recognition. She should have made the connection sooner.
“Oh, Louise,” she moaned quietly.
Bee wiped her sweating palm on her jeans and gripped the bat tightly.
Don’t stand and fight, Frank’s voice murmured again. This is not
