Page 123 of Trapper Road

I realize how wrong I am the moment she swings the blade at me. I’m sluggish and slow, unable to completely dodge her attack. The knife slices across my arm before cutting deep into my side. I stagger back, falling to one knee.

I stare at her for a horrified moment, completely unable to comprehend what just happened. I press my hand to the wound, feeling the slick warmth of blood oozing between my fingers.

There’s too much adrenaline pumping through my system to register the pain as distinct from any other pain I feel. It’s all one red haze turning the edges of my vision blurry.

“I’m trying to save you!” I scream at her. How can she not understand?

Willa doesn’t give me a second glance before starting in on the ropes holding her to the chair. I could fight her for the knife, try to kick it away, but it would take time and energy I don’t have. Plus I don’t want to risk getting close enough for her to swipe at me again. I’ll worry about Willa once she gets herself free. Right now my focus needs to be on getting me and Vee out of here.

I crawl toward the door, keeping my head low to avoid the toxic smoke seeping through cracks in the walls and billowing up to the ceiling. There’s no way to know how close the fire has crept but we have no other option. I try the handle again, hissing at the scorching heat of the metal.

I realize then that I’m crying. My tears frustration and rage and fear and regret. There have been so many times I’ve cursed my life, when I’ve hated it, but it’s still mine. I refuse to let go of it now.

I hurl myself at the door. My body erupts in agony, but I ignore it and throw my shoulder into the old wood with as much force as I can. Something cracks, and I notice the frame beginning to buckle. The wood around where the hinges should be on the other side of the door is rotted. I shift my aim, scrabbling and pushing and pounding until one of the hinges breaks free. There’s enough space between the door and the frame for me to wedge myself between the two, using the leverage of my body to tear the door completely off the hinges.

Smoke billows through the opening, a wave of hot air washing over me. The upper landing is alive with shadows of light and dark from the flames eating away at the back of the house. For now there’s still a path down the stairs to the front door, but it won’t last for long.

I turn back to the room, scrambling for Vee. She’s barely conscious, clearly unaware of what’s going on. She blinks up at me in confusion. I grab her shoulders. “We have to go,” I tell her. “Now.”

“But—”

I don’t let her finish. I grab her arm, pulling it across my shoulder. I push to my feet, hauling her up with me. How I find the strength I don’t know. Somehow I’m able to ignore the pain pulsing through me, the dizziness that clouds the edges of my vision.

Get Vee out, I tell myself. Then I can worry about the rest.

As we stumble toward the door, Willa screams behind us. “Don’t leave me! Connor! Help me! Please!” She sounds desperate and crazy with fear.

I glance over my shoulder. Willa’s managed to get one of her legs free of the ropes, but she’s struggling. There are gouges along her leg where the knife slipped as she tried to cut through the knots. Her face is bright red from the heat and the tears streaming from her eyes.

She’d always been a pretty crier before, but not now. Snot drips from her nose, coating her lips and chin. Her eyes are swollen, her lips raw from biting at them. More proof that all her tears before were just an act. “Please,” she begs me. “I’m sorry. For everything. But please don’t leave me!”

“I’ll come back,” I tell her. She doesn’t believe me, sobs racking her body.

I don’t know if I believe me either. But I don’t have time to think about that now. Now I have to focus on Vee. She’s able to carry some of her own weight, her legs unsteady but still operable as we stumble out onto the upstairs landing. Out here, away from the protection of the room, the heat is overwhelming. My skin prickles, sweat beading my face and dripping down my back.

The sound of the fire is louder here, the awful hunger of it as it devours the back of the house, eating its way toward us. The flames have already reached the edge of the foyer downstairs and have begun to lick their way up the walls. In moments it will reach the stairs and then our only option will be to find a window and jump.

“Come on!” I have to shout to be heard. “You can do it Vee. I’ve got you.”

She nods, her face a mask of pain as she holds a hand against her abdomen, her fingers coated in her own blood.

The stairs were once grand and beautiful, I’m sure. They curved around the edge of the foyer, the banister likely carved and gleaming. Now the wood is rotted, caved in places so that we have to watch where we step. The banister was ripped out long ago, forcing us against the wall for purchase.

More than once my legs buckle, and we slip down several stairs before I’m able to catch us. I keep my eye on the front door, ignoring the searing heat and the smoke and the awful groaning of the house around us. Behind us something collapses with a terrible crash, sending embers dancing through the air like fireflies.

We reach the main floor, and I drag Vee toward the door. It’s hanging open with the promise of fresh cool air waiting outside. It occurs to me that Mandy could be out there waiting with Vee’s gun, ready to finish us, but we have no other options.

I reach the door first, keeping Vee behind me as best I can in case Mandy attacks. I pause for the barest second, trying to scan the clearing past the porch, but half my vision is still gone and there’s too much smoke. My eyes sting and blur with tears.

It’s certain death behind us, and a chance at survival in front. I push outside, pulling Vee behind me. We stumble across the porch, practically falling down the few steps to the ground. I’m tempted to collapse here, but I push us onward, putting distance between us and the burning wreck behind us.

We reach the edge of the trees, and I ease Vee to the ground before falling to my knees beside her. My lungs burn with each breath as I suck down fresh air. I glance at her side where she had her hand clamped tight over her wound. “You okay?”

She has difficulty focusing, but eventually her eyes meet mine. “I’m tough,” she bites through clenched teeth. “Gonna take more than a stuck-up bitch to bring me down.”

“Want me to take a look?” I gesture at her abdomen. “See how serious it is?”

“You a fucking doctor?” she asks me. “I have a hole in my body where there shouldn’t be one. Of course it’s fucking serious!”

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