Pyro: A Fire Novella by A.L. Knorr

Author:A.L. Knorr [Knorr, A.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Intellectually Promiscuous Press
Published: 2017-08-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

The exhaustion of two international flights within three days caught up to me in the van on the way home. I fell asleep in the back seat within minutes of pulling out of the airport parking lot. Once we reached the house, it was all I could do to drag myself up to my room and collapse on my bed. But the downside of falling into bed before dinnertime was waking up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at four in the morning.

I opened my eyes in a dark room, on top of my covers and still wearing my clothes. I rolled off my bed, stood up, and stretched. My room was stuffy and hot. I went to open my window, tripping over my still unpacked suitcase. I cranked the metal handle on my window and the hinges creaked as it opened.

The smell of smoke came in on the breeze and I inhaled more deeply, growing alarmed. The sky was dark, there was no sign of flickering light anywhere, but there was definitely fire somewhere outside. I took another sniff. It didn't have the scent of burning leaves or bonfire; it had the more acrid and rank smell of burning garbage.

I grabbed my phone and stuffed it in my shirt pocket. I took an elastic from my bedside table and raked my hair up into a ponytail as I padded silently down the stairs. The house was quiet, everyone asleep. I went into the kitchen to look out the large picture window we had in our dining room. The back yard and beyond were also in darkness. I went to the foyer and jammed my feet in my sneakers, then went out onto the porch.

The night air was alternately sweet and humid, and then stinking of smoke as the wind shifted. I scanned the street as I went down our front walk to the sidewalk. There was still no sign of light or life anywhere—all the houses were dark. Where there is smoke, there's fire. So where's the fire?

I wandered down the sidewalk. There was no moon in the sky, and the only light came from the streetlamps along our street, illuminating circles of pavement, grass and parked cars. I passed the narrow alley that led to the park, and beyond that, a large patch of forest where the old MacLeitch farmhouse stood. That's when I finally caught the sight of flickering light. It was faint, and a smudge of smoke above it blocked out some of the stars. I chewed my lip, weighing my options. Finally, I began to jog down the alleyway. I passed through the park and into the bush.

The smell of smoke grew stronger. I took out my phone and dialed 911. When the voice on the other end of the phone asked what my emergency was, I said, "One of the abandoned buildings in Swallowtail Park is on fire."

"Is there anyone inside the building?" asked the woman on the other end.

"I don’t know, but I doubt it," I said.

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