Page 98 of Something Borrowed

For a second I’m lost in the sheer power of it, watching the flames spread like a virus ready to take over every inch of this place.

Move, dammit, Red. Or you’ll die here.

Grinning, I turn to run towards the elevator - but freeze in place.

The scream that shatters through the seventeenth floor sends a shudder of pain through me. I know who it is. I just know.

“Verity?” I shout down the passage, but an explosion drowns out my voice as one of the side doors caves in “Verity.” I shout again.

Another scream carries to me from the far end of the passage.

No.

What have I have done?

I run straight into the uncontrollable furnace of death. Ducking low to save myself from the heat and smoke suffocating my lungs and stinging my eyes.

“Verity.” I shout again, but there is no answer.

At the end of the hallway I can hardly see anything.

I kick against the only door there.

I kick until it crumples in on itself.

“Verity.” My voice is just a dry whisper now and when I take in a breath to try to sooth it I choke on thick grey smoke.

Dropping to the ground I leopard crawl into an apartment.

It doesn’t make sense. Why is there an apartment here?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Verity

In my dreams I’m running.

It’s so hot my skin is being scorched by the air around me as the sun blisters down from above.

I lift my hand up over my face and squint into the distance. Rolling red desert hills surround me from every angle. I’ve been walking for eternity. My throat is screaming for water, cracked and dry, aching to the point where I can’t speak anymore.

I pull the soft white fabric up over my face, but it does nothing to block out the heat of the sun above me. I’m trapped here, but I don’t remember how I got here.

I’m scared, but I don’t know which way to go. Everywhere I’ve walked so far is just more sand. More hills. More painful, blistering heat.

My skin is burnt and red and my body is ready to quit.

I can’t stop though. If I stop I will die. I’ve got to keep moving.

But my feet are too heavy to lift, and when I look down, I see the sand wrapping around my legs - I’m in a sink hole. The sand is reaching up to embrace me in its fiery tomb.

I’m too hot.

I have to get away. But there isn’t anywhere to go.

The sand sucks me deeper into the ground and the more I fight the quicker I sink.

It’s up around my throat and I’m twisting, lifting my head, trying to take one last breath of air.

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