Page 48 of Envious Of Fire
“Just go without me,” begs Kaleb. “Please. I don’t—”
“We’renotdoing this song and dance again,” cries 987, at once losing his composure, whispers giving away to shouts. “It is so fucking close, our way out, ourliveswaiting for us up these steps. What was that earlier?” he asks suddenly, turning on his friend. “Telling everyone that you were saved from a fire? Thattheysaved you from a fire? What the fuck was all of that about? Why would you say that shit to them?”
“Because it’s true. My house burned down. My family died in the fire. I would have, too, but … but one of them found me, an angel with the kindest eyes … and he saved my life.”
“Saved you? You call this place ‘saving’ you? Wake the fuck up, man. How do you knowtheydidn’t start the fire? Some of themcooktheir meals first, get what I’m saying?”
The idea horrifies Kaleb. He looks away.
“Move your fucking feet. Hop up these stairs with me. I’mnotleaving you behind and—Y’know what?” He crouches down and points at his back. “Get on. Piggyback. I’ll carry you.”
“Please …”
“I’ll fucking carry you.”
Kaleb spots a shadow somewhere far behind them, down the strange hallway. It is gone the second he sees it.
If Kaleb keeps hesitating, he’ll be the one responsible for 987 not finding his dream, he’ll be the reason they are caught, and he will never, ever forgive himself.
So it’s now panic, not compliance, that drives him to obeyhis friend. Kaleb shuffles quickly, locks his arms around 987’s neck, and lets himself free from the ground. His friend rises up, lifting him with ease, thanks to Kaleb’s small frame.
He doesn’t see the shadow again.
Did he see it at all?
Upward they go without speaking, making their ascent as quickly as they can manage. When at last they reach the top of the stairs, it opens to an enormous space, all the walls, floors, and ceilings shiny and bluish in hue, like a gallery constructed of nothing but mirror. Scattered throughout the space are tall, thin pillars, the reflections of which make the room look like an enormous spiked object—a maze of glass trees.
Kaleb slowly slides off 987’s back, hobbles to his side, stares out at the vast expanse of glassy wonder. It looks less beautiful than it should, instead inspiring fear. It’s like a dream, an eerie dream in every direction, soundless, airless, unreal.
“Did we … lose them?” asks Kaleb, the question making his already heavy heart sink deeper as it leaves his lips.
“No. They’re just up ahead, I’m sure of it. Chill.” 987 looks to the left, to the right. He takes a step one way, second-guesses, then head the other, stops yet again. “Up the stairs … archway … big blue room …” he mutters to himself, his words scattering through the mirrors. Kaleb peers over his shoulder down the stairs. The shadow still isn’t there. “The fuck is the big blue room? Isthisthe big blue room? What archway?”
With his heart thumping heavily and his knee panging with alarm, Kaleb parts his lips to ask another question. What comes out instead, completely unprompted, is: “My name’s Kaleb.”
987 continues muttering to himself for half a second, stops, turns his head as he belatedly hears the words. For a moment, their plight is entirely forgotten. “Nico,” he then responds, as if just now remembering.
Kaleb smiles. “I took you for more of a Bruce. Or a John. Ormaybe even a Chuck.”
Nico chuckles, shakes his head, then gives Kaleb a punch in the shoulder. “You don’t remember? I let it slip one day. You’d think I just crapped my pants, the way everyone went silent.”
“Everyone’s scared to break the rules.”
“And now look at us, breaking all of them. There’s no one else in this place I’d rather break them with than you, 1025—Kaleb, I mean. Yeah, that’ll take some getting used to.”
“You can stick with 1025 for now, if you prefer.”
He considers that. “Yeah, until we get the fuck outta here.”
“Agreed.” Kaleb nods ahead. “Maybe the archway is on the other side of this room.”
Nico squints. “Hmm, yeah, probably.”
“The nurse will be waiting for us, right?”
“Yeah,” decides Nico after a moment, encouraged. “Yeah, she will be, for sure.” Each whisper is a breathy tornado in their ears. “She’s at the other end, waiting for us … they all are.”
The two, now side-by-side, make their way across the large reflective expanse. As they go, the stairs grow smaller at their backs, until the top of them is no longer visible, and in every direction, it’s nothing but a dark blue, dreamlike haze.
