Ashes (32 page)

“Arson?” he heard. “Arson?” A second time it pierced the silence. It was a voice he never thought he'd hear again.

“Emery?” Tears swelled in his eyes, burning on his face the way he knew they would. Some dropped to the dirt floor with a hiss. “Emery!” Suddenly he found that if he said her name, something would move inside him. It was like fresh, living water. He wanted to drown in it.

Her footsteps came closer. Where had she come from? How had she gotten here? He didn't care. He just needed her close. He needed her love; the love he wished would envelop him now. It started, but as he swallowed, as the sound came even closer, his spirit begged that this peace she brought might stay.

Then he saw her. Out of the smoke. She was here, finally here with him. He could see her, unchanged by time. Some rock band t-shirt so tight on her chest. Ripped jeans clinging to her small hips. Converse sneakers he surmised had to be uncomfortable. Shoelaces slinging back and forth as she ran to him. He even smelled her hair.

She had no mask.
 

Arson didn't say a word. Instead he reached for her and kissed her. Again and again, like he'd never done it or like he'd never be able to after this moment. Like he was alive because of her. He could feel her presence.
So strong.
Their lips stayed connected as he breathed her in. He never wanted to let her go. Arson stared at her for a long moment. He gently touched her face. He was desperate to hold her in his arms forever. “You're safe now.
So beautiful.
I'll never let you go again. I swear. I love you, Emery. I love you.”

He poured his love into her with another kiss. Felt his hands heat up. But Emery didn't speak. They'd gone months without a single word to one another and she had nothing to say?
 

“Say something. Please, Emery, I need to hear your voice.”

“You need to wake up, Arson. Wake up and change it, before it's too late.”

A bullet split the air. It ripped a hole through her chest and sank into his. They both began to bleed. A hungry laugh disturbed them then and Arson turned to the shooter.

The shooter spoke. “Ah-ah-ah, boy.”

Lamont.

“You're still a prisoner, Arson. You're never gettin' out. She's
gonna
die, you know it. They're all gonna die!” With wide eyes, Lamont haunted him, and when Arson turned back to Emery, she began to fade in his hands like black sand. She didn't burn. She didn't stir. She simply faded. Her face, her hands, everything was…

Gone.

Arson shut his eyes and returned to that dark room where he saw his mother dead on a steel bed that was now her coffin.
The torment chamber where Grandma rocked him to death.
The cell where he watched her
suffer
at the hands of Isaac Gable, his horrible nightmare.

Arson nearly choked with fury and fear. The agony wouldn't stop. Had everything been a dream? His violent escape from the asylum?
All of it?
A dream trapped inside this nightmare? He had woken up, hadn't he?

“Let me out!”

He bashed the walls. Then, moving to the center of the room, Arson spread out his hands and waited, smoke and fire shooting out of him. The walls blackened and dropped backward into nothingness. New rooms formed around him. He burned another wall down and ran into the next chamber. The echo of mad voices calling him from that room clamored like nails hammering down into flesh and blood.

Arson ran and ran until he could not. As he moved, everything behind him burned. The fire could not stop, and he didn't want it to. If this
was
his hell, he would make it home. Everything would burn, and nothing could escape his relentless rage. Arson incinerated the classrooms filled with ridicule. He laid waste to every tormentor and broken memory. But Arson couldn't cry. He felt no sorrow or remorse.

How dead inside had he become?

 
He searched for that small life he had talked to before. The one who had led him to that
room.
The one he called Danny. Perhaps his friend—that small, frail boy—could lead him away from this evil prison. Arson gritted his teeth and circled the places he'd already been. The ones consumed with fire. He prayed that in his recklessness he had not ended that boy's life, or spirit, or whatever kind of unnatural entity he was. Arson needed a way out. Desperation clawed at him.

“Where are you? Help me!”

And then he stopped. There, at the center of the black hallway, was a figure, walking through the fire and the smoke. A small boy, the one he recognized from his nightmares past.

“Don't look so surprised. You're not the only one with superpowers.”

“Where have you been?”

“Running.
Like you.
I'm tired, and I'm wounded. But it has to stop. They have to pay for what they've done. Revenge is the only currency this world accepts. And it seems like you're finally getting it. I'm
gonna
help you. But just so we're clear, it's going to take more than vengeance to get you out.”

“Who are you, really?” Arson asked.

The boy looked around at the flames, the hallway filled with red and black. “Love what you've done with the place.”

“Who are you!
”
He knew now that this boy wasn't Danny. This boy wasn't afraid to step out of the shadow or approach him. There was something different in him.

“My name is Adam,” the boy said. “I'm here to get you out. Forget what you see me as. It's not the real me, but it's a projection of what you needed to see. I call it sliding. When it happens, I have to use what's familiar in a person's mind. I used an image you already had in here.”

Sliding?
Arson didn't understand.

“Your mind's comfortable with your memory of Danny. He's not a threat to you. So you accept me as real.”

“Are you real?”

“Yes. Very real,” Adam replied. “I just needed you to believe I was real. How long have you been stuck in here?”

“I don't know. Feels like forever.”

“I can imagine. Arson, your physical body's in a coma. I thought you died. I was wrong. They're keeping you alive. Your mind isn't ready to give up the ghost yet.”

“What?”

“There's still some poison in your blood, though. If I'm right, it's the spider venom. I read the code in one of the other rooms. It's in your blood strong. It's gonna take some work to wake you up and get you out of here.”

“Spider venom? That can take away my powers?”

“I think so. It can't take away your powers forever, but for a little while. Might kill a normal person. For people like us, it wounds us. But, like an idiot, you tried to use your powers before your blood filtered it out. And, voilà, do not pass go.”

“How did you know my name?” Arson said, perplexed still.

“I'm in your mind. You can pick up knowledge about your host when you slide into their head.”

“Whoa. So how exactly did you get into my mind?”

Adam stopped in his footsteps, turned around, and smacked Arson in the chest. “Do you wanna stay in here forever? We could sit around asking questions, or we could look for a way out.”

 
“Fine,” Arson surrendered. “I just need to know one thing. Do you know where Emery is? Have you seen her or heard anything about her? I need to know if she's okay. I need to know where she is. She was taken when I was taken. Do you understand?” Arson waited for something to change in the young boy's eyes. He hoped. “Emery Phoenix. She's seventeen, has…scars on her face. Have you seen her? Is she still alive?”

Adam waited a moment. “I haven't seen her. She could be alive, could be dead. I don't know.”

A hopelessness
drifted through Arson. Everything he had wished for collapsed. The fire began to spread out of control. Wild, fiery vipers took shape and slithered across the floor.
 

“Hey, get a grip,” Adam ordered. “The whole reason you're in here is because you slipped. You let your mind go. You got careless. Stay focused!”

Arson wanted to see her one more time, to hold her, kiss her.
In the outside world.
Would she forever be a picture lost in his memory? This maze was torturous—a living, breathing curse of an existence. It was time to escape it.

Maybe Adam had answers he needed. Maybe he could help him. Maybe he could even save the world.

“You still wanna save the world, huh?” Adam asked. “Kids. Always
wanna be the hero
.”

“You heard my thoughts?” Arson replied.

“We're in your mind. I can sense everything you do or think. Get it?”

“Creepy.”

“Look, Arson, I've wasted my life riding on the sick dreams of others. The world you so desperately wanted to save is ruined. It's filled with backward devils. Good souls don't exist anymore. Mankind is an outdated, forsaken creature. And yet you wanna be the brave hero?”

Arson didn't move. He honestly didn't know what he wanted anymore. He had wanted to save Emery. He had wanted to save Grandma, the ones he loved. But since he'd gotten lost in here, nothing was certain. Everything became a blur.

The world had put him here. The world had toyed with him all his life. For so long he had looked on people with hope. But those people had abandoned him.

Adam stood still, watching Arson war with his emotions. Hate. Love. Forgiveness. Rage. What Adam had said was true, and that was the worst part. What could redemption do now? What could anyone do to save such a lost cause?

Only fire could make it right; only fire could end the world and purify it again.
 
 

Adam read Arson's expression, the fury trapped behind his eyes. “It's too late, Arson. You know it's too late. Why save the world?”

“Why save the world?” Arson repeated, his eyes igniting once more.

Adam grinned. “Let's rule it.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

“Close your eyes. Close your eyes and picture this.” To a ten year old, the simple task of sitting still and closing your eyes is almost as complicated as summoning an imagination after a lengthy reprieve from the world of make-believe. But both were required in order to bring Estevan Vega to where he is today. These simple words forced a disinterested child into writing. And the good grades and attentive audience that seemed to follow didn't hurt. Vega was born in 1989 in Connecticut, where he currently resides. Growing up, he fell in love with sketching comic book superheroes, watching movies, and listening to rock music. While his passion for art still remains, he now focuses his time on 
creating
rather than 
copying
someone else's work through a picture. When he was 12, he knew he wanted to be a writer, so he began 
Servant of the Realm
, what would become his first published book. Though the book wasn't a national
best-seller
, it became the catalyst for everything that was to come. 
The Sacred Sin
, a dark, psychological thriller about a soul-stealing madman, was released three years later to considerable acclaim. These two published titles spawned a number of radio and television interviews, along with a blog tour and a book tour.
But still, Vega felt there was a more important story lurking inside of him, one that wanted out.
His slow and intense rise into the literary world is rather fitting, considering the slow and intense burn that remains long after the final page of his latest and most personal novel to date, ARSON. Compared to 
Jumper
, 
Twilight
, even Stephen King's 
Firestarter
, there is no question that it will be the tour de force of the summer. Part realistic, part supernatural, it is a beautiful and breathtaking blend of regret and redemption.
Estevan Vega's ultimate goal as a writer is to walk the red carpet at a Hollywood premiere…stay tuned.

 

Electronic Edition Copyright © 2010 by Estevan Vega.
All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the author except as provided by USA copyright law.

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, descriptions, entities, and incidents included in the story are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events, and entities is entirely coincidental.

StoneHouse Ink 2011

www.StoneHouseInk.net

Boise Idaho, 83713

 

First Paperback Edition 20011

First eBook Edition 2011

 

Editor: Audra Marvin

Cover Designer: Damon @ www.damonza.com

eBook
design: GreenE-Books.com

 

Published in the United States of America