I continued on to each stall, trying not to breathe in the toxic air. Each gulp of the smoke threatened to consume my consciousness. A series of loud pops had me looking up, terrified I’d see a beam falling down on me. Though I saw flames licking along the ceiling, nothing came crashing down, but I knew the beams wouldn’t last long. Another pop sounded, and my head started to spin, my chest heaved, and my legs began to tremble, my arms to shake as my body grew weak from lack of oxygen.
The air was getting worse, and I knew I didn’t have much time left. Taking a deep breath and holding it, I reached the last stall that held Kieran, the horse I’d ridden with Banks to the hot springs that day. His nostrils were flaring, and he was prancing, his hooves kicking up dirt and hay.
“Easy boy,” I said, knowing one kick could send me flying. “It’s okay. I’m here to help you.”
Sliding the bolt back on the door, I prayed I’d not have to go inside. Kieran was smarter and far quicker than Cocoa, running out the moment I had the stall door open. Desperate to make my own escape, and fairly certain Kit was not inside, I began to backtrack, following the horse’s flight route. I ducked at the sound of another sharp pop, and then screamed when a cinder landed on my arm, the heat instantly burning my skin. Slapping at it and the others flying through the air, I began to run, trying to stay ahead of the flames I could swear were reaching for me, perhaps angry I’d denied them their taste of flesh. I could only hope Kit was not trapped anywhere inside and I had somehow missed her.
Hearing a groan, I twirled around. “Kit?”
She didn’t answer, the sound repeating a moment before a beam crashed to the ground. Behind me, a column of fire rose up as the hay stored in the loft ignited, bursting to rain fiery pieces of dry grass on me. Another beam fell, and I screamed again, turning back, the haze was now so thick I could barely see. Tears streamed down my face from my stinging eyes. My lungs demanded air I couldn’t give. The realization I was surrounded by an inferno besieged me and, for the first time, I realized I could actually die.
I had to get out and now!
I pulled up my skirt, holding it over my mouth and nose with one hand, the other blindly waving in front of me as if I could part the black curtain of smoke. I no longer reacted to the pops, cracks, and roar of the blaze, or perhaps I simply couldn’t hear them above the whimpers and fervent pleas to God to help me that I was issuing nonstop. Finally, I could make out the shape of the door, smoke billowing out as if it, too, wanted to escape.
Another beam broke free to land across a stall, breaking the door from its hinges, the wood igniting under the intense heat. It was jump it or be roasted alive… I didn’t even hesitate. I ran and leaped, clearing the beam only to stumble and fall. Sobbing, I scrambled to my feet, staggering out the door, not stopping until I fell again. Exhausted, I rolled and looked behind me. Orange flames were shooting from the window of the hayloft. The rope of the pulley was starting to burn, the majority of the barn on fire.
I stood, bending to swipe at my legs to wipe off bits of hay, dirt, and soot, wincing as my fingertips ran across raw skin. The sound of another crack had my head whipping back around. That had not come from the barn. It wasn’t a beam splitting. It sounded more like a… Something whizzed by me, and I fell flat. Oh my God.
That was a bullet!
Someone… make that more than one person was shooting. I heard the sound of gunfire coming from all around me. It sounded like a war zone. I needed to warn everybody. I pushed to my feet only to scream as something barreled into me.
“I’ve got you.”
I couldn’t immediately respond as Jay’s weight had knocked the breath out of me. We continued our roll until we were behind the water trough. I could feel the heat of the fire but was more concerned about the lead that continued to fly around.
“Wh… who… wh… what’s hap… happening?” I managed to get out, my throat raw from inhaling so much smoke.
Instead of answering, he pushed me down. “Stay here, I’ve got to get Kit.” When I realized he was heading for the barn, I raced after him, grabbing his arm.
“She’s not in there!” I said, ducking when a piece of the roof fell only feet from us.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes, I checked every stall. I-I don’t know where she is.”
He finally nodded, taking my arm with one hand and gesturing toward the house. That was when I realized he had a gun in his hand.
“What’s happening?” I asked again.
“There’s not time to explain,” he said. “I need to tell the others Kit isn’t in the barn. I need to get you to safety. Be ready to run. I’ll get you to the house.”
Before I could protest, he had my hand in his and had taken a few steps when he dropped my arm and lifted his gun, the barrel bucking as he pulled the trigger. My cry was echoed by the man who’d come around the corner of the chicken coop. Jay didn’t have to tell me to drop. I hit the ground a moment after the stranger did. I didn’t stare at the dead man, but at a spout of water pouring out of the trough beside me… spewing from a round hole. A bullet hole.
I realized Jay’s hand was clamped around his right biceps. Evidently, the water trough had not been the only casualty.
“Oh my God, you’ve been shot,” I said, unnecessarily as we both could see the blood oozing from between his fingers. I didn’t hesitate, but ripped my blouse off, ignoring the buttons popping. Wadding it up, I forced his hand from the wound, pressing the makeshift bandage into place. “I’m sorry,” I said at his grunt of pain. “We’ve got to stop the bleeding.”
“Can you shoot?” he asked.
“I-I…” I didn’t want to touch the gun. I hated violence. Hell, I covered my eyes when watching action films on TV. But this wasn’t television; this was reality. This wasn’t the time to be squeamish. This was life and death. “Point and pull the trigger, right?”
How he managed a grin, I’d never know, but he did. “Yeah, that’s the gist of it. My hand’s no good. I can’t use the gun. Take it and get to the cabin. Search for Kit there. Hide in the basement.”
“I could go into town for help,” I offered, the thought of hiding in the dark, the fear of not knowing where my family was, not knowing what was happening all threatening to overcome me.
“They took out the tires on the trucks,” Jay said. “We saw the flames from the field and came running, but…”