The Cursed Series, Parts 3 & 4 (Cursed #3-4) - Rebecca Donovan Page 0,103

Grant tries the window, but it doesn’t budge.

I look around, searching for something to break the glass. I pick up a large rock and rush toward the window, tossing it through an upper pane. It shatters, leaving a jagged hole. I’m about to reach in when Grant intercepts me.

“Let me.”

It makes sense. He’s taller and probably won’t slice his arm open like I would. A second later, he’s pulling his hand back through and slides it open. The window is small, much too narrow for Grant’s broad shoulders to fit through easily.

“Lift me up,” I instruct.

“How are you going to get him out? You won’t be able to carry him.”

“Lift me,” I insist. “Please.” My voice shakes.

We’re running out of time as smoke rolls out the window, accosting us.

Grant eases me in. I cough immediately. Holding the neck of my shirt over my mouth eases some of the burning in my throat. I duck down and run over to the body lying on its stomach.

It’s Brendan. And he’s not moving.

I shove at him, but he still doesn’t respond. “Brendan!” I scream, shaking him vigorously.

He rouses, dazed.

“You need to get up!” I yell over the crackling of the fire.

I grab hold of his arm with both of my hands and yank him. He pushes off the floor and stumbles to his feet. Holding my breath to keep from inhaling the smoke, I guide us to the window.

“Lana! You’re almost here,” Grant calls to me, coughing. His voice is faint, drowned out by the hissing and crackling boards as they get swallowed by the blaze. “Don’t stop!”

I grip Brendan tightly and lead him the last few feet to the window. Grant reaches for me when I lean out the opening, desperate for fresh air.

“No. Brendan first.”

The flames are getting close. I don’t have to see them to know. I can feel the heat racing toward us. Burning up everything in its wake.

Brendan half-collapses out the window, so Grant reaches in and pulls at his arms while I heave his legs behind him. A burning beam falls with a deafening crash. My heart races as I desperately push while Grant pulls again. It’s a tight fit despite Brendan’s slender build. He finally crumples to the ground in a heap.

Grant reaches in to lift me out.

As soon as my feet hit the ground, I’m on my knees, retching. Grant drags Brendan away from the barn and leans him against a tree before returning for me, lifting and carrying me a safe distance away from the inferno. Even here, it’s so hot; it feels like my skin is bubbling off my bones.

“Is he …” I stop to cough, fighting to clear my lungs. “Okay?”

Grant returns to Brendan, examining him. “Yeah.”

But Brendan’s still pretty out of it, coughing and sputtering.

The barn creaks as the interior structure begins to give way, like it’s screaming out, slowly being incinerated to ash.

Grant turns Brendan’s head to the side, examining him. “You’re bleeding. Looks like you hit your head on something. Can you stand?”

Brendan shakes his head, unable to catch his breath.

“Breathe in slow,” Grant instructs. “Nice long breaths.”

I bolster myself up, leaning wearily against the tree.

“Will you hand me my bag?” he asks, still balancing Brendan upright to keep him from toppling over.

Picking up his backpack, I shuffle to Grant, my strength slowly returning. Grant holds my gaze for a beat before taking it from me. He blinks back the shine in his eyes and focuses on Brendan.

Unzipping his bag, he pulls out a first aid kit and a bottle of water. He opens the water and dumps it over Brendan’s head. Not what I was expecting.

Brendan’s eyes shoot open.

“Hey,” Grant says to him. “Need you to focus. Can you do that?”

Brendan blinks, nodding.

“Brendan,” Grant calls to him. “Look at me.” Brendan does. “Try to stand. We have to get away from the fire.”

I hear the hum of an engine in the distance, heading in our direction. Sounds like a dirt bike or an ATV.

When Brendan just stares at him, dazed, Grant persists. “Brendan. Stand up, buddy. C’mon.”

He slides his arms around Brendan’s chest and eases him off the ground. Brendan stumbles on unsteady legs but tries to assist Grant until he’s standing. Sort of. Holding on to Grant’s shoulder, he blinks around again, fighting to be alert.

He squints at me. “Lana?”

“We need to get out of here, Brendan. Someone’s coming.”

He searches in the distance. Hearing the motor getting closer, he nods. Grant directs us away from the barn