Chapter 8 - THE FIRE AND THE VOWThe flame caught instantly.
The dry wood and paper exploded into a roaring wall of fire, filling the hallway with thick, toxic black smoke. Victor and his men retreated through the loading dock, slamming and locking the heavy steel doors from the outside, leaving Jack, his dying mother, and the bleeding body of Marcus trapped in the inferno.
"Jack!" Susan gasped, lying on the floor three feet away, her breathing ragged. "Jack... my son..."
"Mom! Hold on!"
Jack’s mind clicked into survival mode. He rolled onto his stomach, maneuvering his bound hands beneath his knees and snapping the plastic zip-tie against the sharp, jagged edge of a broken steel door hinge nearby. The plastic sliced into his wrists, drawing blood, but after three frantic pulls, the tie snapped.
He was free.
Jack rushed to Marcus, checking his pulse. He was dead.
He then scooped his mother into his arms, ignoring the searing heat melting the fabric of his jacket. The front exit was completely engulfed in flames. His only way out was the old laundry chute that led to the subterranean utility alley behind the building.
Jack kicked open the rusted metal chute door, lowered his mother carefully down the slide, and jumped in after her just as the ceiling collapsed in a shower of sparks and burning timber.
They hit the snow-covered alley below, coughing up black soot.
Susan lay in Jack’s arms, her pulse faint, her skin icy cold.
"Jack..." she whispered, her eyes opening slowly as she looked up at the burning sky. "Listen to me..."
"Don't talk, Mom. I’m getting you to a hospital."
"No time," she wheezed, her hand reaching up to touch his face. "Lisa... Lisa didn't leave those girls in the alley by accident... she knew you worked at Saint Matthew's... she trusted you..."
Susan’s hand fell limp. Her eyes remained open, reflecting the orange glow of the burning building.
"Mom?" Jack whispered. "Mom!"
May you like
No pulse.
Jack collapsed over his mother’s body in the freezing snow, screaming her name into the Christmas morning silence.
