Page 87 of Boundaries

I twisted to see Seth appear beside him and place a gentle arm around my sister. She wasn’t coping well but I couldn’t be dealing with that right then. I had to be strong for Chrissy.

As I turned back to the window, my heart jumped in my chest as the panel opened and a large arm appeared. Mason!

Both myself, Boyd and Nixon moved toward it, standing below the bathroom, and looking straight up at the second floor. A thick plume of smoke poured from the open window like it was water.

The past rivalry between our families at that point felt so thoroughly insignificant.

Mason’s head appeared and he was motioning toward us.

Nixon shuffled to stand directly beneath him, warding us all back with his hand. He was primed for action.

And then, Chrissy appeared. She was awake but was disorientated.

Mason placed his hand against his mouth and shouted at his brother.

“I’m going to lower her down. The stairs are out,” he barked.

Nixon nodded and moved more directly into position.

The stairs were out? How the hell would Mason get down? Despair chewed into me. I felt helpless and afraid.

I watched as Mason pushed the glass frame wider and then Chrissy’s bare feet appeared, followed by her legs. Mason had her wrists in his hands and he was lowering her out of the window toward Nixon whose arms were stretched up ready for her.

Thank Christ she was only on the first floor and not in the attic room shared by our parents.

I watched, holding everything in as Chrissy’s little feet skimmed Nixon’s hands. Mason was half leaning out of the window, his torso bent over the wooden frame. The part of his face that was visible was tense, the glow from the fire in the room below them lighting up half of his features and casting shadows over the rest. His arm muscles flexed with her weight.

Mason McKenna was saving my little sister’s life and my heart swelled in my chest. I loved him with all my heart. There was no doubt about that now.

“Got her,” Nixon yelled up to his brother and Mason released Chrissy’s wrists. She half dropped into Nixon’s arms and he caught her as they both flopped to the ground.

I raced over, dragging her against my body, sobbing my relief, my hands in her hair.

“Are you OK my darling talk to me?”

She nodded weakly. “I’m fine Amy.”

Then chaos erupted. I released Chrissy, pushing unsteadily to my feet, my eyes meeting Mason’s. That look that we shared was one I would never forget. The sirens of the fire brigaded were louder now, at the border into our property and relief pooled into me.

“Jump down, Mason, now,” Nixon yelled, turning briefly to look at the large fire engine tracking up our driveway.

Nixon’s voice snapped that thread that bound us, and Mason, lifted himself, placing a booted foot onto the window ledge; ready to launch himself out.

There was another explosion from inside the kitchen, maybe the cooker blowing out and the whole house shook with the impact. It was a volatile concoction and I fell to my knees again. The noise of the aftershocks rolled across my bones.

The noise from the sirens and the generator of the fire vehicle was deafening, as was the sound of splintering wood as the ceiling of the kitchen collapsed.

BOOM! Smoke and dust flew up into the air and out of what was left of the window in a mushroom cloud.

The ceiling of the kitchen was also the floor of the bathroom and a scream tore from my throat as I watched Mason fall backwards and disappear into the carnage, his body dragged down into the twisted rubble and that plume of smoke.

“No!” I screamed, breaking out into a run towards the porch, stumbling on the uneven ground. I had to get to Mason, I needed to help him, save him, something. Panic clawed into my chest so thoroughly that I felt physical pain. My thoughts raced; images of Mason’s mangled body trapped beneath the rubble infected my mind like poison.

Strong arms grabbed me from behind and I struggled, screaming at whoever held me. I even tried to bite him.

“Let me go!” I screeched, yanking against the hard hands which restrained me.

“Are you fucking crazy, you can’t go in there. The flames are too high,” Boyd yelled into my ear. He held me tightly against his chest and there was nowhere to go. His words were more painful than any physical blow. He was stopping me from getting to Mason. The breath was being ripped from my body and I knew I was on the edge of a panic attack.