Page 22 of Echoes on the Wind (Borrowed Time #2)

“Tom, try the door again!”

Will shoved me towards the front of the building and began stomping on the boxes beneath the window, trying to control the fire. The torch must have been soaked in something flammable, because as flames tore through the boxes of tablecloths, even the bare floor tiles nearby caught alight, spreading the fire rapidly.

I threw my shoulder into the door, slamming against it with all the strength I could muster, while Nellie quickly gathered the other ladies in the centre of the room, away from the flames that were encroaching from both sides.

“Open the windows!” Mrs Bowen shouted, her voice muffled behind her handkerchief.

“No!” Will shouted back. “That’ll only make it worse.”

“But the smoke…” she coughed.

Nellie pushed her down into one of the seats and gripped her by the shoulders. “Panicking won’t help the men get us out,” she said firmly. “If you can’t be of help, sit and be quiet. ”

Mrs Bowen nodded obediently, and Nellie ran to the tables in the corner, rolling up her sleeves before reaching for the highest one. “Will, we need to get these out of the way,” she shouted. “The fire is spreading too quickly. They’ll go up like a bonfire.”

The heat was becoming unbearable, and the thick, black billows of smoke that had risen to the ceiling were starting to sink back down on us, making it increasingly difficult to see.

I slammed against the door, my eyes stinging with smoke and sweat, and shouted out in the hope that someone might hear us and raise the alarm. The repeated blows sent jolts of pain through my shoulder, but despite my efforts, I was getting barely a shake out of the heavy doors.

The frantic coughs and cries of the women behind me were matched only by the roar of the flames. I cast a quick glance around at them and saw that the curtains nearest them had also now caught, sending them further into a huddle in the centre of the room.

“Tom, you need to help here,” Nellie called over, and I rushed to her side and began pulling at the tables. The flames were nearly upon us, and we couldn’t possibly move them all out of the way in time, but we could at least try to limit the spread.

“I need to get out! I need to get out! I can’t breathe.”

One of the women behind us started to panic, getting to her feet and flapping her arms around, as she stared frantically around the room.

“I need to get out,” she cried again, and Mrs Bowen made a desperate grab for her arm as she made a dash for it .

She headed towards the back room, which was now entirely engulfed and spreading into the hall, then grabbed the stick from the side and hooked it to the window latch. The rush of air as she pulled it open caused the fire to roar and climb higher up the walls, while the smoke billowed deeper into the room, making us all cough and choke.

“Mrs Harris! Move!” Nellie screamed, but the fire took hold of the woman’s skirts, and she let out a chilling scream as she turned in circles, trying to pat it out.

“Get down,” I shouted as I dashed through the smoke to the woman. “Get on the floor.”

I tackled her to the ground to roll out the fire, but her wide skirt and endless petticoats just kept feeding the flames. Her agonised screams rang in my ears as the fabrics melted and stuck to her skin, so with no other choice, I threw myself on top of her, using my body to put her out.

The flames that had engulfed her receded, but the scorched material burned a hole through my shirt, searing the skin on my stomach. Either dead or passed out, her screams fell silent, and I grabbed her arms, dragging her back towards the door.

I set her down and fell back against the floor, exhausted. The flames were spreading so quickly that we were running out of space, and the beams along the ceiling had started to glow orange and creak.

“This isn’t working,” Will coughed out, fighting against the now burning tables. “We’re just going to spread it. We have to find a way out.”

The ceiling let out another long groan as the fire continued to rise and rage, and we were forced to hunch over and keep low as we desperately tried to avoid the heat and smoke.

I barged against the doors again, but my efforts were weaker this time, and the wood was so swollen that they didn’t even rattle.

“Help is coming,” a man’s voice called out from the other side, and I moved back as he began to hammer something heavy against the doors, splintering them.

The fire continued to spread rapidly, ripping through the boxes that were scattered around the hall, and engulfing all of the furniture in its path. We had little room left to move as the flames grew closer, but while we huddled together and inched towards the door, one of the women remained frozen in the centre of the hall, too terrified to move.

“Mrs Taylor, you must come here,” Nellie called out, but she stayed rooted to the spot, shaking and terrified.

The building crackled and groaned as the temperature reached unbearable levels. A window shattered, causing the fire to roar and swell, followed quickly by another, sending glass shattering to the floor. The fresh gust of air only served to make the flames grow stronger, and the whole roof groaned under the strain.

Mrs Taylor brought her hands to her face, letting out a shrill scream. Without hesitation, Nellie shielded her mouth in the crook of her elbow and dashed through the flames towards her.

“Nellie, no,” I shouted.

Bells rang out in the distance, bringing the tiniest sense of hope, but the noise inside the room had grown to deafening levels. Another loud creak tore through the chaos, and we all looked up as a chunk of roof gave way, crashing to the floor beside Nellie and Mrs Taylor, blinding us with dust and smoke.

I lunged forward to reach them, but Will grabbed my shoulder, stopping me. In one swift move, he threw me back against the door, then bolted through the flames towards them.

I coughed and sputtered against the smoke, and Mrs Bowen clung tightly to my arm, trying to stop me from racing back into it.

“I have to go to them,” I shouted.

I pulled free of her grip as a loud creak echoed above us. Almost instantly, the centre of the roof came crashing down over my friends, taking both of us off our feet.

I lay there for a second, stunned by the falling debris. The floor was hot to the touch, and the burn on my stomach stung from the heat, but I slowly crept forward, determined to get to Nellie.

Another section of the roof fell beside me, sending hot embers against my face and body, and I turned my head away to escape the brunt of it. Then, from behind me came another loud crash, and the banging at the door finally stopped.

I pushed on towards Nellie, feeling my way forward, and a plank from the ceiling fell onto my hand. I swore as I yanked it back, but the burn set in quickly, and my fingers started to feel numb.

“I’ve got another one,” someone shouted nearby. A second later, unknown hands reached under my armpits and yanked me upwards.

“No!” I coughed out. “You have to get my friends. You have to get Nellie. ”

He ignored my pleas and hoisted me into the air as if I weighed nothing, then ran with me into the street and set me down in the road next to Mrs Bowen and Mrs Harris, surrounded by a crowd of onlookers.

“I have to go back,” I croaked out. I made a feeble attempt to get to my feet, but someone put their hands on my shoulders, keeping me down.

I watched on, helpless, as two more firemen ran inside, and got my first real look at the damage. The flames lit up the early evening sky like a beacon, and the hall looked completely gutted. Even the houses on either side hadn’t escaped, with their windows shattered and the brickwork blackened.

I’d been set down between two fire carts, and the horses were whinnying loudly, unsettled by the commotion. A dozen men worked rapidly around them, detaching what looked like red wheelbarrows from each wagon. When they got them free, they connected them up to a hydrant at the edge of the street, then two men climbed aboard each, grabbed the handles, and began pumping wildly.

“Ready,” one of them shouted, and two more men grabbed the hoses and aimed them at the building.

One of the firemen came running from the building, doubled over, and pressed his hands against his knees, coughing and choking. None of them had any sort of protection except for a tunic and a helmet, and their faces had quickly blackened from the smoke they were inhaling.

He looked up to one of his colleagues and shook his head, and I tried again to push myself up from the floor, this time with as much determination as I could summon. I managed to get to my feet before someone once again grabbed me and stopped me from going inside.

“I have to get to Nellie,” I shouted as I turned around.

“You can’t go in,” Ellis replied, stinking of booze.

He was the last person I wanted to see, and I shoved him off me and moved away.

The crowd was edging closer, and one of the firefighters stepped out to push people away as more bells rang out from the high street. The sound of hooves came next, and a wagon emblazoned with the mine’s logo sped into the street, bringing another six men to join the effort.

“We’ve found one,” a voice called out, and I spun back towards the building as one of the men walked out, backwards. He was obscuring the view, so I couldn’t see who he had rescued or their condition, but he was pulling them by the arms onto the pavement.

“Why were you even in there?” Ellis asked. “I thought you had plans, and Gwyn was helping out.”

“Ellis,” I said, turning impatiently to face him. “Fuck. Off!”

I was loud enough for the whole crowd to hear, and some of them let out shocked gasps, but most of them just continued to watch on, mesmerised by the flames.

“He’s breathing,” the fireman shouted as he laid Will down on the pavement. His clothes were badly scorched, and he was bleeding from his head, but the rise and fall of his chest as he gasped for air, gave me some relief.

“How many more are inside?” the fireman asked, turning his attention to me .

“Two women,” I replied, and he ran back in with one of the other men. “Please help them.”

I ran over and knelt down next to Will to see that he was alright. If Nellie were here, she’d already be halfway through treating everyone, but there was no sign of any doctors or nurses, and I knew nothing about how I could help him.

The burns on his arms looked pretty red, and parts of his beard and hair had singed down to the skin, but the back of his shirt had almost completely burned away, and the skin there was raw and blistered. It must have been agony, but he barely made a sound except for the wheezing.

“It’s going to go,” someone yelled out in a panic, and a chunk of wall in the corner of the building lurched forward, edging towards the house next door.

Finally, the crowd moved back, and the men at the pumps aimed their hoses away from the crumbling stonework. Seconds later, it crashed down, ripping the building right down to the window frame and sending blocks to the ground below. The biggest slab hit the iron fence that separated the hall from the house next door, buckling it before tipping onto the pavement and shattering.

“Coming out,” someone called from inside, and I ran to the door as he brought Nellie to the street. She was propped up under his arm but walking and conscious.

I pushed myself under her other arm and wrapped my hand around her back, and as we led her across the street to a waiting cart, another fireman followed behind, carrying the body of Mrs Taylor .

Nellie's whole body was trembling as we got into the cart, and she held her hands out in front of her, stiff and shaky. Both were burned, and a nail was missing from one of her fingers, but the rest of her body appeared to be fine. Even her clothes had gotten off lightly.

“Will,” she whispered, then began to cough and heave.

“He’s alive,” I said. It was all the reassurance I could give her.

“He saved me. When the roof came in, he threw himself on top of me. If it hadn't been for him…”

“Don’t think about that. You’re both alive. That’s what’s important.”

She laid her head down on my shoulder as the wagon pulled away to take us to the infirmary, and I stared down at the burns on her hands. I wanted to reassure her, but all I could think about were the fortune teller’s words, warning me of the harm my presence would bring to the people I loved. Was I somehow responsible for this?