Fatal Burn (West Coast 2) - Page 188

Oh, God, the rail! How would she get past the rail?

Behind her, Ryan screamed and flames tore through the dry, dusty building. Flames were eating the walls. In a matter of seconds the porch would be engulfed.

The only way off the porch was at the steps near the door. Clamping down on her teeth, she inched forward. Toward the stairs, dragging the damned chair with her, coughing from the smoke.

Pain shrieked up her body and the warmth of unconsciousness tugged at her brain, seducing her to give up the fight. “No way,” she growled, trying to stay awake, to fight as she inched forward, determined to save herself.

She thought of Travis.

Of their lovemaking.

Of Dani.

The child she’d not seen since birth and tears filled her eyes. Please God, give me the strength to get back to them. Please, please, protect them both and don’t, oh, please, don’t let her be dead.

Behind her, so near its breath threatened to engulf her, the fire crackled and snarled. But above the roar, she thought she heard voices…human voices and a dog’s bark and something else—a whooshing sound that seemed out of sync with this isolated spot.

Impossible.

Hallucinations.

Wishful thinking.

Keep moving. The steps are closer. Ignore the heat, the flames. Just keep going.

Whop, whop, whop!

The noise was louder now.

Intense. Somewhere, in the darkness, voices shouted through the night. She thought she was imagining it all, that in the blaze of smoke and fire, she’d lost her mind.

“Let’s go!”

Nate? Oh, please…

Blackness tugged at her mind. Her body wracked with a fit of coughing.

Keep moving!

Heat blasted.

“Find!” someone cried. “Find Shannon!”

Travis?

Her heart cracked.

“Come on, boy!”

Was she dreaming, or was that Travis’s voice shouting?

“Shannon!” he yelled, closer now as she started to pass out. “For Christ’s sake, Shannon, hang on!”

Her heart leapt. She tried to roll away from the house, but the rail, now charring and burning, stopped her. Through the seared wooden bars she saw the glimmer of determined eyes in a large furry head. Atlas! The dog barked as Travis ran up behind him and commanded him to stay.

A second later Travis burst through the flames, catapulting himself onto the porch. His boots pounded on the floor as he yanked out a knife, cut her legs and hands free and scooped her into his arms. Heat and flames roiled around them.

“I’m here,” he said, burying his face in her hair as he carried her, running, along the porch and leapt down the two steps. She blinked and saw the cabin, surrounded by dark woods, engulfed in flames. Above them the sound of a helicopter’s rotor beat through the night.

Tags: Lisa Jackson West Coast Mystery
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