The smoke detector woke Joan up out of a deep sleep. She had barely slept in weeks, but tonight when her head hit the pillow, she had felt that all the pieces of the fires were coming together.
The alarm blaring, she jumped out of bed, heart jackhammering into her ribs, and ran to the door. Black smoke was angrily marching up the main staircase. It would be only a matter of seconds before it breached the room. She raised her arm to her nose and stepped back, turning to the back staircase. She opened the exit and was immediately hit by the heat of a second fire.
Coughing, she hurried into the kitchen and turned on the cold tap. Grabbing a dish towel, she soaked it with water and draped it over her head before she dropped to her knees and crawled to the utility cabinet. She grabbed the fire ladder Gideon had showed her in the closet and dragged it back toward the window.
Her lungs and eyes burned with acrid smoke. It was nearly impossible to see as she pried open the side of the box and yanked out the ladder. She forced herself to her feet and flipped the lock on the window. The window sash, however, was stuck in place from a recent paint job.
She grabbed one of the stools at the counter and rammed it into the window. A couple of the panes broke, but the wood frame did not give way. Gritting her teeth, she tightened her grip and hit the window again. More glass shattered, but it was still not a big enough opening for her to fit through.
The cool air rushed in, and even as she greedily breathed in the fresh air, the fire behind her bellowed and pulled as it consumed the oxygen. She struck the window again, and this time the frame gave way and fell to the ground below.
Her head spinning, she reached for the end of the ladder, hooked it onto the ledge, and tossed it over the side. The rungs rolled down and caught halfway as the heat behind her scorched her back.
As she climbed onto the ledge, she saw someone near the corner of the big house.
A sudden explosion sounded behind her, blasting hot embers across the room and against her back. The damp cloth was helping, but she would be lucky to have another few seconds.
As she gripped the sill, shattered glass cut into the palms of her hands. She felt nothing as the blood poured over her fingers and she slung herself over the sill. With her foot, she desperately searched for the first rung of the ladder, which shifted and swayed against the house.
Looking back into the apartment, she glared at the fire, an angry red beast that snarled back, almost grinning as if it knew she’d been seconds away from dying. She froze, unable to shift her attention away from the formidable creature that was almost mesmerizing.
The ladder shifted under her feet as the ceiling beams in the apartment began to collapse. The spell broke, and she skipped the next rung down to get away as fast as she could.
Blood made her palms slick, and gripping the ladder became difficult. Her hands slipped twice as she struggled to keep her feet on the twisting rungs swaying in the wind. Heat from above rained over her as glowing debris tumbled down.
When she was five feet from the ground, the window ledge above gave way, and the right hook disengaged. Her grip tightened, but the chain ladder twisted violently, knocking her against the side of the garage. The siding cut into her ribs, knocking the air from her. Her fingers slipped, and she lost her grip completely and fell to the ground.
She landed on her feet hard. Her ankle rolled, but she did not go down. The fire howled and glowed above her as the structure began to collapse in on itself.
Joan pushed up to her feet, teetering as she struggled to put distance between her and the fire. Her legs wobbled, and pain from her ribs knifed her from within. Still, she stumbled back several steps. She was not going to let this damn fire kill her.
As she took another step and then another, she felt hope that she would survive this. Her gaze on her feet, she never saw the blow that came at her from behind. She took a strike to her lower back that dropped her to her knees.
“Fucking bitch!” a deep voice growled. “What’s it going to take to kill you?”
She tried to rise, but a heavy boot kicked her forward. Her face hit the ground, dirt and blood filling her mouth.
“You’re going to burn alive if it’s the last thing I do.”
She looked up into Clarke’s lifeless eyes, which mirrored the growing flames behind him. “You gutless shit,” she spat out.
“Yeah, aren’t you the smart one?” he hissed. “You were in my house.”
She winced as she pushed farther back from him and the burning structure.
Clarke stepped toward her. “I have tiny bits of paper stuck in the doors and windows. I always know if anyone has disturbed them.”
She pushed back a few more inches, gritting her teeth as her body screamed in pain. “You set the fires, didn’t you? All of them.”
He grabbed her by the arm and yanked her to her feet. Twisting it behind her back, he shoved her toward the fully engulfed building. “Maybe not all, but nearly all. It was going so well. And then you came back.”
Her gaze locked on the raging fire as its heat scorched her skin.
“In case you’re wondering, I set the College Fire. It was all me, baby. I showed Ann how much she needed me, and I taught you a lesson about meddling. But you forgot that lesson and now are back and hell-bent on taking Ann away again.” He dragged her closer to the fire that loomed over them both. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she? And she’s all mine.”
He whirled