Page 65 of Phoenix
“Niamh! Niamh!” a voice shouts with his footsteps thundering up behind. My shoulders are soon pulled back, forcing me to finally turn and see Jake.
“Warren is still in there,” I cry over the row of crackling fire and its destruction. “Robert set the fire; he was going to…”
We both turn in the direction of the small bonfire that was once Robert, watching it crackle away into something no longer recognizable as being a man. When we look at one another, there is an understanding of something awful ending once and for all. Though now is not the time to celebrate, for someone much more important is inside.
“I’m going in,” I declare as I begin turning away from him, but he stops me with one pull of my shoulder. “Let go, Jake, I have to do this; I have to save him, me!”
“Not on your own, you’re not,” he says resolutely, “I’m coming too.”
I do not respond with words, merely nod my head and take his hand, just like I did inside of that basement all those years ago, the last time we righted the wrong of the man burning beside us. He shoves his scarf at me before grabbing a rag from his bike. We take a few seconds to wrap them around our faces, only keeping our eyes visible so we can make our way to Warren.
The smoke is becoming dense, and immediately stings my eyes to watering when we enter the bar. I can no longer distinguish between colors, it’s just black, grey, and hazy. Jake squeezes my hand and pulls, so I shake off my fear, if only for now, and follow him in. We don’t have a lot of time before the fire breaks through from outside.
“Get down,” Jake mumbles through his face covering, signaling for us to crawl on the floor where the smoke is less thick. A memory of Warren having to do just this as a small boy with his baby sister tied to his waist has me crawling that little bit faster to get to him. I will not lose him; I will not let Robert take him away from me, not after everything else he has stolen.
The journey to get to Warren seems to take hours, even though it must only be minutes. I try not to look at all the photographs, the memories that are about to go up in flames. I try not to look toward his father’s old room, knowing that losing all of this will be as painful to Warren as when I lost my own childhood. The lump of emotion building in my throat grows with the density of the smoke, but when we finally reach Warren, still lying on his front on top of the mattress in our room, I fly up from the floor to check he’s still breathing, still alive. My fingers grab for his pulse, and I release a breath of relief, only to end up coughing and spluttering when I feel the gentle thumping against my skin. I check over his back to see the phoenix moving, if only a little bit, with his breathing; it’s still trying to fly, still fighting for life.
Jake hauls him up from under his arms, pulling him back until his entire body slumps from the bed and onto the floor with a thud. He’s completely naked, but he’s alive, and that’s all that matters. Jake is strong, but Warren is big, so I take one of his arms and throw it around my neck while Jake does the same on the other side. We hear an explosion from the direction of the bar, telling us that the fire is now spreading through to engulf inside.
“Which way?” I shout.
“The back; the fire will reach there last, so it should be ok,” he says, so I nod and let him lead the way.
We turn right, away from the bar, and walk down the narrow corridor toward the back where a door to the desert behind should lead us outside. The smoke is becoming unbearable, and I begin to feel dizzy with the lack of oxygen. Jake remains steady, keeping Warren up a lot more than I can. When we reach the door, he kicks it hard, but it won’t budge.
“My key,” Jake mumbles to me, “they’re still on my bike. If I smash the window, you crawl through it and go and get them.”
“Ok,” I shout, now panicking about not managing to make it back in time to save them.
He pushes Warren and me back a few steps before smashing through the glass window. I rush over, ignoring the burn of glass cutting through my feet. Jake picks me up and helps me through the window, cursing when he sees blood dripping over his hands. My dress rips and I catch the inside of my thigh on a large shard of glass; there’s blood everywhere.
“You ok?” I hear Jake shout, but I don’t answer him. I’m too busy running over the rocky ground to get to the front so I can grab his keychain, which has so many hanging from it, I worry about how I’m going to find the right one. The smell of human barbecue, aka Robert, from behind has me running extra fast toward my boys. Robert has taken too much of my life to warrant him even a single second more. But when I finally reach the door, I can no longer see them.
“Jake,” I scream, “Jake, answer me!”
After what feels like an age, I finally spot him crawling up to the door from inside; his resolve to fight against the smoke inhalation beginning to wane. I can tell he’s desperate to let unconsciousness consume him, to give in, and let sleep take over, but I won’t let that happen. I refuse to lose either of them.
“Which key is it?!” I shout.
“The one with ‘D’ written on it,” he gasps with his eyelids looking heavier and heavier by the second.
The keys shake under my trembling fingers, my panic beginning to halt my ability to do anything with them. However, when I finally get to the key in question, I shove it inside of the lock and turn it. Again, it feels like hours pass by before I get the door to unlock, but when it bursts open, Jake falls onto the ground with a thud.
“Shit!” I cry. “Jake, come on, get up, you have to help me, you have to save both of you!”
But it’s no use, he’s fallen unconscious, and his breathing is raspy. I know I don’t have a lot of time to get them both out and call for help, but I have to try.
“Come on, Niamh, you can do this!” I tell myself before summoning all the strength I have to pull Jake free of the door and smoke. It’s like trying to pull a dead weight, a boulder that’s been wedged in the earth for years. I close my eyes tightly and instantly picture Stanley, all the while wishing for this to be over, and for them both to be safe.
“Fuck!” I gasp as he begins to move. It takes all my strength to pull him to safety and I wonder how on earth I’m going to move Warren, who is not only taller, but broader too. I rush inside to where he’s slumped against the wall; his tattoos are barely moving, and his breathing is shallow. I’m losing him!
“Come on, baby, help me,” I beg, but he remains out of it. I try pulling on his leg, and he moves a little, but it only wedges him between the two walls even more. I can feel my tears falling as I try with all my might to move him, but in the end, I fall down next to him and curl myself up against his chest. With the last bit of energy I have, I take his arm and wrap it around me.
“If you go, I go too,” I whisper, “I won’t leave you.”
The fire sounds as if it’s getting closer and closer and the smoke is beginning to burn my lungs. The blackness becomes a blur and I feel like I’m slipping away. After everything, this is how it ends. But with the warmth of Warren’s chest against my cheek, and the sound of his wheezy breath, I know I am exactly where I’m meant to be.
“You be my phoenix, and I’ll be your dragon,” I whisper in a broken voice, “we’ll save each other.” I’m answered with a strained moan through his lips and I wonder if he can hear me; I like to think so. “Sometimes, I miss the ocean; I’ve even thought about us living there one day. Somewhere with clean air, fresh water, and a small house for you, me, and anyone else who might come our way. And even though we’ll never have that, the point is you made me dream again; you made me want that life with you, my phoenix. You really are the hero they say you are…at least, to me you are. I love you Warren, Phoenix, Flynn.”