Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts

Sunday, October 31, 2021

Firestorm

    Day and night had long since blurred together. At this point we were only delaying the inevitable and conceded our house to the flames. We tried to leave town on the main road going east but abandoned vehicles blocked the way. Upon returning to town we went to the visitor’s center where emergency services were shuttling people out on buses. Seating was limited and most of the buses had already left. Instead we joined a convoy of private vehicles heading out on the bus route. Our car had to be abandoned when a tree fell in front of us. Just as well for once we stepped out the tires erupted into flames. It was misery.

We pulled our jackets up to shield our heads from the flames that licked at us from both sides of the road. As we walked I noticed an ember alight on my finger, yet I couldn’t feel it burn. I couldn’t even feel my sweat. Was I sweating? The soot coating my skin felt dry. I tried rubbing some off between my fingers and with it came the outer layer of skin. I felt no pain. I looked beyond my hands and saw that the bottom of my shoes had melted away. I had been walking barefoot on the asphalt for some time. Feeling nauseous from heat stroke, I vomited. Now my stomach rumbled with hunger.

After walking for what felt like an eternity our group emerged from the blaze into a clear blue sky, as far as I could tell. With my eyes cloudy as egg whites I could only see silhouettes against a nondescript background. I raised my hands in a vain attempt to wipe my eyes clear and felt the skin on my arms split open. I held them straight out to avoid any more damage.

    Eventually I could hear people talking in the distance. I couldn't understand what they were saying. I called out to them but with all of the smoke I had inhaled I could only get out a hoarse groan. I reached out for help and shambled over to them.

    Finally I was close enough to hear what the voices were saying. “There’s nothin' we can do for 'em, boys, 'cept send 'em back to God", said a voice in a country drawl, "Make it quick for 'em and aim for the head.”