Page 118 of Prodigal Son

“I’m here!”

Cain rushed over to the stairs, choking on smoke as his mother’s pregnant body lay limp in his arms. The staircase crashed into pieces, discharging a burst of flames.

“You have to jump.”

Adam leapt down and landed on his knees. “Take her. Go!”

Cain cradled his mother in his arms and raced through the inferno. Flames licked at his clothing, scorching and burning his flesh.

Once outside, he crashed into the muddy earth and deposited his mother on the ground. “She needs help!”

Anna appeared. “I’m here. Go get Father.” Biting into her wrist, she opened her vein and forced blood into their mother’s mouth.

Cain returned to the house where the walls had started to collapse. Adam was still coughing and searching rooms.

“Adam, you have to get out of here. Go. I’ll find Father.”

Adam wheezed. “I feel his fear. He’s here somewhere, but not answering me.”

“Go. I’ll find him.” The house was collapsing and soon the fire companies and other witnesses would arrive. He needed to locate his father and heal any damage quickly.

“Father!”

Cain listened, but the roar of the flames overpowered his senses. Grace! He opened his mind to his sister. Where is Father? I can’t see through the smoke and flames. Help me find him.

Unlike Gracie’s telepathy and Adam’s empathetic link, Cain had only his senses to guide him. Heat moved the air in waves, throwing him back as unbearable heat scorched his clothes. The flames destroyed any sense of familiarity and his skin began to blister.

He was lost in the seventh circle of hell. “Father!”

Burns bubbled on his arm, and he bared his teeth, suffering the excruciating pain.

“Cain?”

“Gracie?”

“I’m here!”

He coughed. “I can’t see you. Stay back! It’s too hot!”

“He’s upstairs,” she yelled. “He’s not alone!”

Confused, Cain lunged through the flames and hurled himself up to the second-floor rafter. “Go back. I’ll meet you out there.”

Embers burned through the planked floors and rafters smoldered overhead. His clothing sat like hot irons against his skin and his flesh crisped and melted into his muscle and bone. “Father!”

The door to the master bedroom was closed, not even a chip of paint affected by the flames. “Father, are you in there?”

He tapped the knob, checking the temperature and found it cool. His fist closed over the metal but the door was locked. “Father, unlock the door.”

A strange chanting met his ears as the flames roared behind him and the fire blasted his back. He slammed his palm into the door, needing to escape the flames. “Father!” Harder he hit the wood, but the door didn’t budge.

The roar of the blaze rose to his ears, hissing and creaking, as the flames engulfed the walls and ceilings. His eyes burned and he coughed, unable to steal a breath of clean air.

“Fath—” A brutal hack ripped through his lungs. “Father!” The wood floor splintered and he careened into the door with all his weight, gasping at the clear air on the other side.

“Ignis ac noctes accende dolorem tuum, animam in sola culpa.” Two women stood on either side of the bed where his father lay, still with his eyes open.

“Who are you?” He rushed forward, only to double over in pain as a woman with teal hair raised a hand at him. Brain splitting sharpness pierced his skull.

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