92

Ella was running. Just ahead of her were Sara and Bethany. They were sprinting. Fuck, they’re fast, she thought. One slow breath. Then she tipped her chest forward a little, drove her knees high with each step and began gaining on them. She could smell the smoke before she could see it. They broke through the tree line and ran right. They turned onto a dirt road. The girls were not slowing. Ella knew she didn’t need to stay right on them, their destination marked by the roaring flames above the house in the distance. But she stuck with them regardless. It’s always a race.

Sara and Bethany won. They stood fifty metres away, watching the inferno and the flames like horrid tongues licking around the edge of the basement door. Five steps leading down to it. Infamous, thought Ella, these must be the gates of hell. Watching these two girls gaze upon the collapsing building that housed the remains of their mothers, she realised finally and completely that Conor and Calum would never forgive her. She’d silently assumed the three of them were alone. Then, a familiar voice away to their right, knees in the dirt -

“Where is my Catherine?”

Sara ran at him, her knee came flying and crashed into his temple as he crumpled awkwardly. Lay there, blood pouring from the wound, he smiled at her, as she grabbed a handful of soil and began jamming it down his throat.