When I opened my eyes again all I could see were a bunch of small fires scattered around us and a hell of a lot of gray smoke.  There was crackling and hissing sounds coming from everywhere.  Blondie was stirring against my chest.

“She knew what I’d do...” she mumbled.

“Leah,” I coughed as I inhaled a breath full of smoke, “we need to get out of here.”

Somewhere in the background beyond the sounds of burning wood and rug, I could still hear Yankees making noises.  It was only a matter of time before he dislodged the nine iron and came at us.  And if he didn’t get us, the rising flames surely would.

“Fucking whore,” Blondie twisted herself gingerly around, careful not to use her hands, and leaned against my legs with her elbows.  “She set us up.  She fucking set me up... she’s the only one who knew what I’d do.”

“What?” I coughed, glancing behind her at the spreading orange fires that were licking the walls and ceiling now.

“Don’t you get it?  Frost fucked us,” she spat, coughing along with me as a thin stream of tears slipped down her cheeks.  “How could she do that to me..?  Fucking bitch.  She set this place to go off if I tried to muffle those sentinels...”

Blondie was rapidly deteriorating into a frantic mess, similar to her breakdown in the tunnel outside Danvers.  I suddenly realized that Frost was more or less the glue that held her insane psyche together.

“Whatever, we need to get out of here now Leah.”

Yankees was suddenly not my most immediate concern as I realized we were more or less trapped in a semi-circle ringed by flame.  The bar seemed to have exploded almost perfectly outward, trapping us against the wall.  I quickly scrambled to my feet, lifting her up by her arms along with me.  I wanted desperately to take a minute and consider the implications of what Blondie was saying, but the burning heat seemed to be spreading everywhere and I was smart enough to know it wasn’t like the movies.  You didn’t get ten minutes to stand around while the edges of the building burned, leaving you untouched.  The house was, in a matter of minutes, going to be a deadly inferno. 

“What do you mean she fucked us?” I said as I scanned urgently for a break in the ring of fire, something we could run through without being burnt to a crisp.

“I can’t believe I fell for this...”  There was a fresh stream of tears leaking from her eyes as she spoke, “There’s no reason for her to have sent us back here.  Except...”

Oh fuck me... don’t tell me...

“Except what?  Except what Leah?”

“...She must’ve made a deal.  She handed you over to him and set me up to be killed.”

“Meet me in Portland, and I’ll tell you what you want to know,” Frost had said. 

The oddity of that location simply hadn’t occurred to me.  She could have picked anywhere.  Blondie had been killing for Frost for who knew how long, and was obviously used to following orders without question.  And she’d baited me back with the one thing she knew I wouldn’t miss a chance of discovering: a way back to Aerin.

“Jay!” Blondie screeched.

I turned to the rising wall of orange heat and saw what had alarmed her.  The fire was gathering itself up like a tidal wave about to break against the shore, as if lifted by some invisible hand.  I had only enough time to put my back to the searing mass of flame and wrap my arms around Blondie before it came crashing down onto us with a fiery roar.

Thirty-One
Choices

An old, wizened reaper-face stared down at me grinning, yellow papyrus skin stretching as its mouth moved.  There were no sounds were coming from it, the words it was speaking lost in a fog of disorientation.  All I was aware of was the strange sensation of being hot and cold at the same time.  

I realized suddenly I was lying on my back.  Looking up beyond the reaper head I was able to catch sight of heavy storm clouds looming, shadows from the tree branches overhead just inky black splotches swaying against the purple night sky.  A yellow glow and what felt like intense heat was coming from somewhere behind and cold, damp lawn grass was underneath me.

I’m alive, was my first thought, followed closely by: Did Blondie get out?  And is that-

“Mister Jay,” the scratchy British accented voice drifted to my ears, “can you hear me, lad?”

“Charlie?” I coughed out; feeling the cuts on my cheek from Danvers sting in unison as my mouth moved.  “What the hell are you doing..?”

I trailed off as I pushed myself up on my elbows and scanned the surroundings.  Wind was still whooshing in off the Casco Bay, bringing much needed clean air to my lungs.  No burning smoke to inhale, no stench of death from Yankees and his friend.  I took several deep breaths and realized I was on the edge of my front lawn, Blondie’s still form next to my arm.  Everything around us was illuminated by a shifting, heated glow that was casting tall shadows out into the street.  Spinning my head around I squinted into the intense flames behind me.  The entire house was consumed in a roaring inferno, apparently sparked by the trap Frost had left for us that Blondie had unwittingly set off.  Briefly I wondered if I would be able to get my security deposit back. 

I twisted my head back around and blinked at the old man kneeling in front of me.  Charlie was dressed in one of his usual British-guy tweed outfits, his face covered in a thick layer of smoky soot.  He was looking at me with a mixture of relief and concern framed on his yellow-skinned face, thin eyes squinting at me as if he were attempting to decode something.

“What are you doing back here in Portland?” he asked somewhat incredulously.

“Charlie, how did you-”

I was interrupted by a large black shape that swooped abruptly out of the night sky and settled on the Brit’s shoulder.  A loud ‘ca-caw!’ sounded out as I nearly jumped up off the ground and knocked the damn thing off him.

“Easy Mister Jay,” he said, grinning his skeleton smile.  “I was able to use a few... old tricks to remove you and your companion relatively unscathed from your home.”

Then he reached up a hand and gave the giant bird a brief scratch under the beak, which it seemed oblivious to as it twitched its head sideways and regarded me with a big, slightly green tinged eye.

“The fucking crows... are yours?”

I was barely able to put the question together as my mind raced backwards, trying to piece together what I must have missed along the way.

“Of course, lad!  And lucky for you for they are, otherwise I wouldn’t have known you were here.”

I pulled myself into a sitting position and looked over at Blondie again, the heat from the burning house almost too much to take on my back even at the distance we were at.  Her hands were clenched and pulled toward her chest, the redness from the burns still visible along the edges of her skin.  I realized she was breathing as I caught myself watching the subtle rise and fall of her breasts.  But she showed no signs of being conscious.

“How else could an old codger like me keep tabs on someone as busy as you anyway?” Charlie continued.  “Oh and... I may have used them to try to give you a, well... hint or two at first.”

“A hint?” I dragged my eyes off my companion and looked back up at his squinty eyes, feeling more lost than ever before.  “Charlie I smashed the hell outta one of those things.”

“Yes, yes I was aware of that,” he nodded gravely.  “Something had skinned the poor bugger alive so as to blind my eye on you.  Went hopping mad from the pain, I suspect.  You merely put the poor thing out of its misery, lad.”

I clambered shakily to my feet, Charlie leaning in and helping pull me up as the large black crow shoved off his shoulder and went flapping away into the night sky.  I glanced down again at Blondie, the old Brit’s eyes following mine.  He made sure I had my balance and then moved over to her side, crouching down with stiff old man movements and placing his palm on her forehead. 

“She’ll be alright... not quite certain why you’d be concerned about her well being though, all things considered,” he said, a hint of disapproval creeping into his wheezing voice.  “You have been getting my hints, have you not?  In the garage about pushing, that type of thing?  Of course I had to drop the ‘Mister’ when I said your name... that would’ve given it away...”