Page 23

Chapter 23

Piers

T he smell of gas thickens in the air, curling at the back of my throat, acrid and sharp. The whole house is primed to go up in flames, and the only thing left to do is strike the match.

The night is pitch black, perfect for what we're about to do. My heart pounds against my ribs as I crouch by the first pile of logs, lighter in hand. Fantasia stands by the back door, her face ghostly in the dim light filtering through the trees. I can feel the tension radiating off her. She's been too quiet since our conversation earlier, but she hasn’t said a word against the plan. Still, something about her silence unsettles me.

I take one last glance around the darkened cabin, the lighter cool in my grip. “Last chance to tell me this is a terrible idea, love.”

“Would you listen if I did?” There's something off in her voice, but I don't have time to analyze it.

“Probably not.” I flick the lighter.

If all goes well, we’ll be long gone before this place turns into a fiery grave. If it doesn’t-

Well. There’s no point thinking about that.

“Ready?” I whisper.

She nods once, sharp and decisive. When I flick the lighter again, the tiny flame flickers wildly, a fragile thing, but when it falls onto the fuel-soaked wood, the fire erupts to life and the first pile catches immediately, flames licking up the curtains.

I move quickly through the house, lighting each pile in succession, watching the fire spread with ruthless efficiency. The heat builds rapidly, smoke already beginning to curl toward the ceiling.

This is the moment that matters most. Get it wrong, and we're dead before we make it ten feet. The fuse I've created- a trail of lighter fluid-soaked logs- leads from the basement door to where I stand. One spark, and it'll carry the flame straight to where the gas has been collecting.

Shouts erupt outside. They've spotted the flames.

“Piers!” Fantasia's voice cracks with urgency. “They're coming!”

“Right behind you!” I sprint toward her as the heat presses against my back, scorching and relentless. The fire spreads fast as it roars behind us, consuming everything in its path. Through the windows, I see figures moving in the darkness, their attention drawn to the inferno we've created.

“Now!” I grab Fantasia's hand and we burst through the back door. The cold mountain air hits us like a physical force after the growing heat inside. The woods are still, the air holding its breath, as if nature itself is waiting for the moment everything detonates. We sprint into the darkness, toward the treeline, counting on the confusion to cover our escape.

We move as silently as possible. The Crowes won’t stay distracted for long. Some of them will come after us. Some might already be in the trees, waiting.

“There!” A shout goes up. “Take them down!”

Fuck! Someone's spotted us. Hopefully they’ll be too scattered, too focused on the burning cabin to organize quickly. We dodge between the trees, our feet finding purchase on the uneven ground more by instinct than sight.

“Keep moving,” I urge Fantasia. “Don't stop no matter what.”

Just a little farther.

Then—

BOOM.

The explosion rips through the air, a white-hot shockwave rolling outward. The deafening force lifts me off my feet and slams into my back. The earth itself seems to quake beneath me as a second explosion follows the first- probably the propane tank in the kitchen.

The world becomes fire and noise. Trees crack and splinter. My ears are ringing so loud I can't hear my own breath, can't hear the sounds of pursuit- but I know they're coming. My vision blurs, but I force myself up. Fantasia lies a few feet away, already pushing herself to her knees.

“I'm fine,” she says before I can ask.

The trees blur past, shadows twisting in the firelight. Voices rise above the crackle of flames, organizing, pursuing.

Gunfire cracks behind us.

Fuck. They recovered faster than I hoped.

I shove Fantasia down as a bullet zips past. “Stay low!”

“Piers-” Her voice catches, thick with something that sounds too much like goodbye. “If anything happens-”

“Nothing's happening,” I cut her off as I spin, gun already drawn, firing back into the darkness. A shadowed figure drops with a strangled yell, but more are coming. “We're getting out of this. Together.”

One lunges at me from the side. I meet him head-on, driving my elbow into his throat, sending him crashing backward. A second one charges, and I throw a punch, feeling bone crunch beneath my knuckles.

Another figure emerges from behind a tree. I shove Fantasia aside and meet him head-on, driving my shoulder into his chest. We hit the ground hard, but I'm up faster, my fist landing squarely on his jaw. Another man appears to my left. I dodge his first swing but catch the second across my ribs.

The fight blurs into a chaotic mess of fists and shadows. I lose track of how many men I'm fighting, focusing only on staying between them and Fantasia. My knuckles split against someone's teeth. A boot catches my knee. I taste blood.

“Piers, behind you!”

I spin at Fantasia's warning, but I'm too slow. Something hard- the butt of a gun, maybe- cracks against my temple. Pain explodes through my skull.

I fight my way toward her voice, but another attacker barrels into me. Through the haze of pain, I hear Fantasia scream my name.

“Run,” I try to tell her. “Don't stop-”

The last thing I see before darkness takes me is Fantasia's face, her eyes wide with horror, her lips forming my name.

The world tilts sideways.

Blackness rushes in.

Then nothing.