Through the Haze - Part Fourteen

We have to believe in ourselves to make things happen. If we don't believe, then nothing is real. --Garmesh Inchalo, Book of Hope
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Isaac awoke to the smell of smoke, to the sound of crackling. Confused, he crawled out of bed and inched toward his door. The crackling grew louder. He frowned greatly and opened his door. There was nothing there, but the crackling sound was deafening. He edged closer to the stairs and peered down them.

There was a red-orange glow emitting from the somewhere in the living room downstairs. The smoke filtered from there and rose to the ceiling, running up the stairs.

Isaac gasped and took a step back. The house was on fire! He wasn't sure what to do, except run. But Ember. His eyes widened as the floor began to crack beneath his weight as the fire ate away at the floorboards. Quickly, the fire began to climb the stairs, closing in on him to roast him alive.

He darted down the hall to Ember's room, where he threw the door open and entered. What was he going to do? He wasn't sure Ember could be move, he was so sick and pale, and his fever was so high. But the fire was clawing its way toward him. They had to get out of here.

But how?

The fire glowed under the door, and he knew it wouldn't be long before it would be upon them. What was he going to do? He had to get Ember out of here, but how? What was he going to do?

He raced over to the window and opened it, looking down. It wasn't that far of a drop, really, but Ember was so weak. It could kill him. In fact, he knew it probably would. Hurriedly, he made the sheets into a rope, his fingers so numb with shock that they could barely do the job, and then tied to the rope around Ember, making sure it wasn't too tight.

"I hope this works, Emb..." he murmured, and drug Ember toward the window. The fire was almost throught the door; he didn't have much time. He hauled Ember's limp form up and into the windowsill, before he began to gently lower him down. He wasn't sure how long this rope of sheets would hold, or if it would do the job, but he had to be hopeful. It was the only way.

It was Ember's only chance. He had to try. For Ember's sake.

The rope of sheets began to under when Ember was halfway to the ground. Isaac's eyes widened and the tried to lower Ember a little faster. But the sheets gave way, and Ember was sent falling the rest of the way to the ground, where he landed with a dull thud, sprawled out at an odd angle.

"Ember!" Isaac cried, fearful.

The door melted away and the fire exploded into the room, the impact of the heat breaking the window into a thousand tiny shards. The force of the impact caught Isaac off guard and sent him out the window. Desperately, he tried to grab onto something, but he was already falling.

There was a sharp pain in his side, and his legs felt singed. He hit the ground hard, his right side and shoulder breaking his fall. With a groan, his head spun as the smoke filled his nostrils again.

Tiredly, feeling himself fade away, he looked over at where Ember lay, completely motionless. "Emb?" he asked dizzily. "Ember..."

Ember was still breathing. That was the only comfort he got. He'd gotten Ember out of the house, but he couldn't get him away.

He was too weak now. Too tired.

"I'm sorry, Emb...I tried...." he whispered, a tear trailing down out of the corner of his eye as he lay on his back. "I tried, Emb..."

"Isaac!" a voice was shouting. Isaac wasn't sure if it was a realy voice, or just something he was imagining. His imagination had played tricks on him before, so why not do it again? "Isaac, dear God, are you okay?"

Someone dropped down beside him. He heard voices as people gathered around him and Ember. Isaac tried to move, to sit up, but a hand pushed him back down.

"Don't move," Roo said, looking down at him worriedly. "Lie down. You don't look good." Isaac complied and lay back down, feeling sick to his stomach and out of it. He tried to tell Roo what had happened, but Roo shushed him. "Don't talk, Isaac, save your strength."

Isaac sighed and felt his eyes slip closed.

"You'll be okay," Roo was saying as he faded away. "You'll be okay."

And then he was out.
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Gabriel shivered as he awoke late in the night. The room was so cold, it chilled him right to the bone, and the cover didn't seem to be shielding him at all. Sweat raced down his face, and he gasped for breath, somehow not able to get enough. A sharp pain occured in his side, and he wondered if maybe the chill was going to try to kill him again.

The room spun as he tried to focus his vision. His mind was hazy, and he couldn't remember where he was, or why he was there or what was going on. The pain took up all of his concentration, filling his mind with the haziness of his condition. His chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths, his heart pounding fit to burst.

His lungs burned and begged for more air, but he had no more to give. He was trying the best he could, but it didn't seem to matter. His breaths just weren't enough. His head felt heavy, as did his body and his limbs. He couldn't move; he was paralyzed, again. His eyes slowly slipped shut as the pain grew.

'Not again,' he thought to himself. 'Please, not again.'

He wanted the pain to end, he wanted it to go away. He wanted to be free of the haze in his mind, of the sickness that had brought him down and made him suffer every waking moment. He wanted it to go away, he wanted to be free.

His throat was constricted and felt oddly dry, as did his mouth. The pain in his side grew and moved to claim the rest of his body, forcing him into agony a slow inch at a time.

'I don't want to die,' he thought to himself. 'I don't.'

His heart lurched and forced more pain into his body. He let out a choking sound at the pain, and more sweat slid down his face. Unable to do anything but lie there, in pain, he could only wait for it to end, one way, or another.

'Sorry Lou...I can't fight it...' he thought, struggling to breathe.

His heart lurched again and quit beating. He tried to breathe, but couldn't. He could do nothing but accept what was happening.

"Gabriel!" a voice shouted nearby. Someone gripped his shoulders. "Damn it, I fall asleep for an hour and look what happens. Gabe? Can you hear me?"

'Yes,' he thought. 'I can hear you.'

"Shit! Breathe, Gabe, just breathe!"

'Can't. I'm trying. Can't.'

"Gabriel, damn it, breathe!"

'I can't.'

Someone started pounding on his chest. "Breathe, Gabriel! Breathe already! Don't you dare do this to me!"

'I'm sorry...' he thought, and then slipped away into sweet oblivion.

The last thing he heard was someone shouting, "Gabriel! Don't!"

And then no more.
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Karaya groaned as she slowly came to. Her eyes opened and she came to her senses. Her hands were chained behind a tree as she sat on the ground, leaning against it. A rope was in her mouth as a gag, preventing her from speech. Narrowing her eyes, she glanced around.

'What am I?' she thougth to herself. 'What's going on?'

It took a moment to remember what had happened, but when she did, her eyes widened and she looked around frantically for her brother. She didn't seem anywhere, and that worried her greatly.

'Cass? Where are you?' she thought.

The figure who had knocked her out appeared before her, walking toward her to bend down in front of her. He pulled the gag out of her mouth so it hung around her neck.

"Where's Cassius?" she snarled immediately. "Where is he? What have you done with him? I swear, if you've hurt him-" she was cut off as the guy put a hand over her mouth.

"Shut up," he growled. "Sheesh. We left your brother there."

"What?" She gasped.

"He was dying anyway," he said.

"What did you do to him?" she growled.

"Nothing," he answered. "He was sick. His pulse was irratic; he was dying."

"No," she said. "He wasn't."

"He was," he insisted. "I've had enough of your voice. You apparently don't want to eat." he brought the gag back up and forced it into her mouth.

She hated the taste of the rope. It tasted utterly disgusting.
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Cassius awoke and looked up at the night sky. He felt terrible; he was so cold. He could feel a fever behind his eyes, and he felt sweaty. The night sky swam in and out of focus.

'What's...wrong with me?' he wondered.

And then he was out again.