Firestorm - Ellie Masters Page 0,75

sleeping outside in a tent than under a roof. None of the designer stores Gracie took me to sold what I need for that. Not to mention, I didn’t want Prescott giving me the eye. For the foreseeable future, my backpacking is on hold, which leaves me jumpy around all this civilization.

The house creaks and groans, speaking a language I don’t understand. I try not to jump at each unfamiliar sound, but I swear it sounds as if there’s someone else in here.

My head knows it’s nothing, but my nerves are uneasy and restless.

All houses make noise, but I don’t know these sounds. I don’t feel safe. Which leads me around the house on a mission to check all the locks, inspect all the closets, and look under the beds. There’s no one but me, but I can’t help feeling as if there’s a presence watching me.

Shrugging the feeling off as nonsense, I head to the bathroom where I draw a bath. One thing this ugly house has going for it is a massive clawed bathtub. It looks dreamy. A little soaking and suds sounds like the perfect thing to settle my nerves. And while I have no food in the house, our little shopping trip netted me an entire host of bathroom necessities, along with a box of scented bath bombs.

Water pours out of the copper faucet warming up while I sniff the box of bath bombs. The lilac and rose one smells the best. After testing the water, I plug the tub to let it fill and head back to my room to grab my robe.

A flutter of movement in the living room catches my eye. When I go to investigate there’s nothing out of sorts.

“It’s just nerves.” I say this out loud. If I speak it, it must be true. Honestly, I don’t know where this unease comes from. It’s almost as if I’m afraid to be alone, which is silly considering I spent most of last year with only myself and the outdoors for company.

Shrugging off the odd feeling, I return to the bathroom, strip out of my clothes and sink into the luxurious tub.

Lilac and rose fill my senses. The hot water lulls my mind and the tight muscles in my legs let go. My arms grow heavy on the side of the tub. My head leans back and I allow my eyes to close. It’s been a long time since I allowed myself to let go and enjoy the creature comforts of a home drawn bath. Into this, I let myself float away and doze.

A fit of coughing wakes me, along with an acrid stench and heated air. Black smoke billows into the bathroom and rolls across the ceiling, filling my lungs. Each breath pulls in more of the smoke. Tears pour down my face, brought on by the coughing fit, and the thick smoke.

There are no alarms going off, but there are most definitely flames licking along the carpet and climbing up the wall.

I leap out of the tub and grab my robe as I go to my knees. The smoke is thick, suffocating, and the heat unbearable. The orange flames are garish against the brilliant blues, yellows, and red of the furnishings. Paint bubbles as the intense heat consumes it.

I’m trapped with no way out.

But wait.

My only option is the bathroom window and a twelve foot drop to the yard below. There is no other alternative.

I can’t stay here.

Before I put on my robe, I dunk it in the tub, getting it thoroughly wet. I’ll need what little protection it gives. My only problem is the window is high, barely big enough for me to fit through, and it’s completely covered with smoke. A quick glance around the bathroom and I grab the plunger behind the toilet.

I take in a deep, scalding breath of smoke and superheated air, then stand to bang against the window. The glass breaks and I sweep the shards to the side. Out of breath, I kneel back down to the floor to take in another lungful of air and smoke. I only have one chance.

Already the water saturating my robe is turning to steam.

Using all my strength, I pull myself up and through the window, where I drop down to the ground below. Flames lick along the roofline and all I feel is terrible heat.

The ruddy glow of the fire lights up the night sky. Sirens screaming through the night reach my ears. I race around to