Page 86 of Claiming Liberty
“Boss, let’s go!”
“I think they’re still up there.” My mouth dries, and a chill travels down my spine despite the oven I’m standing in.
“It’s too late to go back,” Austin shouts. “We need to go!”
He’s right. Time is of the essence. If we don’t leave now, there’s a good chance we’ll never get out of here.
I look down into the pit, bile threatening to creep up my throat.
Forty-three women. That’s how many are trapped on the third floor.
Forty. Fucking. Three.
Forty-three human beings who are going to burn to death. Forty-three more notches on my ever-growing belt.
I am a monster. A sick, sick monster. I came to terms with that a while ago, let greed take hold of me until I no longer recognized myself, but this…
I’m not this.
“Go without me!” I yell, jumping across the hole and lifting up the broken door.
“Boss!”
I ignore Austin’s call and race through the kitchen, the board taking the brunt of the flames. They kiss my fingers, sending a slur of curses rushing from my mouth, but I don’t drop the piece of wood. It'll be my face touching the flames if I do.
After I plunge from the kitchen which is practically engulfed in flames now, I throw the door down, not sparing a second as I race toward the staircase for the second floor.
It’s probably only thirty seconds before I reach it, but it feels too long. Too late. Every second that goes by feels like an innocent life lost.
It’s lucky the manor is so huge because the fire hasn’t covered the staircase yet. The rafters above aren’t looking great when I glance up at them, but they aren’t on fire yet, only darkening.
I need to hurry.
My lungs burn as I take the stairs three at a time, my arms pumping in a literal run for my life. By the time I reach the third floor, I’m gasping for breath, taking in smoke with the shrinking oxygen and spewing it back out in coughs.
This section of the third floor hasn’t caught fire yet, but the smoke burns my eyes. I turn down the hallway where the women are, their screams now piercing my ears.
I come to the armoire first but continue past it because it’s the heaviest piece of furniture. With adrenaline fueling me, I shove a dresser from one door, then immediately move to the next as women stampede from the room.
They shriek down the hall, tripping over one another in panic. Another wave of women flood into the hall as soon as I get the next dresser moved.
I go to the shelf next, and then finally, the armoire.
My eyelids squeeze shut, and I grunt as I press all my weight against it, my shoes slipping on the hardwood as it budges. Summoning every ounce of strength I have, momentum finally takes my side, and the massive thing slides an inch, then another, sweat sliding into my eyes and making me clench them shut. Before it’s fully moved, the door pushes open, and women shove through the gap, pouring out like a burst pipe. I’m shoved out of the way and land hard on the floor, cringing as the last of the women sprint away.
I’m not sure if I’ve ever felt so exhausted.
My skin feels like it’s been engulfed in flames along with my empire.
I’m tired. I’m… For the first time in my life, as I stare at the ceiling, my chest rising and falling with toxic air, my survival instincts don’t kick in.
Right now, death doesn’t feel like such a bad idea.
“Help!” someone screams. I recognize Liberty’s voice immediately.
My eyes close.
“Please, somebody help me!”