Page 9 of Colton’s Inferno

To her, it seemed like the door was locked. But that was impossible. She still held the rusted handle. Tossing it aside, she pulled her phone from her pocket. She had only a few numbers in her contact list and found the one she needed. She placed the call.

It rang three times before being answered by voicemail. “You’ve reached Rusty Harris of the Five Steers Ranch. Leave me a message and I’ll call you back.”

Lucy ground her teeth together. Her grandfather didn’t pay much attention to his phone at the best of times. But with all the commotion from the fair, she doubted that he even remembered he had a cell phone in his pocket.

“Grandpa,” she said, her tone frantic. “It’s me. I’m stuck in the barn with the helium tanks. There’s a fire.” She paused. Would it be enough? “Send help.”

She ended the call and wondered what to do next. She could call Emergency Services. But they were all the way in Red Grove. It would take almost twenty minutes to get to the ranch. She looked at her contact list. There was Les at the feed store. Karen, a friend from high school. A couple of restaurants she liked. Her parents. Her uncles. Derek’s number was still listed in her contacts.

Sure, she could call someone out of the area. But what would they do, other than call Red Grove’s EMS?

She called her grandfather again.

Three rings.

“You’ve reached Rusty…”

Lucy hung up. She tried again.

Three rings.

She ended the call before the message started.

The metallic taste of panic coated her tongue. She couldn’t give in to the dread. If she did, she’d be lost. She had to think. To find a way out. Her eye was drawn to the table. The brush. The broken comb. The hoof pick. It wasn’t much, but it was all she had. The pointed end was broken, leaving only dull metal.

Lying on her stomach, she hacked at one of the boards of the outside wall. Lucy closed her eyes to keep from catching a flying splinter. The wood cracked. She stopped and looked at her work. There were gouge marks and deep cuts. She set the pick aside. Slipping her fingers between the dirt floor and the board, she pulled and pushed. The plank broke with a snap.

The gap wasn’t large, just a hands width from the ground. She wrapped her fingers around the wooden board, pulling and pushing, trying to work the plank loose. It didn’t budge. The barn, built decades before, had hardened with time.

Lucy turned her face to the opening and sucked in clean fresh air.

“Help!” she yelled. At the back of the barn and away from the fair, she didn’t think anyone would hear her, and still, she yelled again. “Help. Help. Help!”

She coughed as smoke was sucked through the opening. Someone would smell the smoke, right? Her grandfather would notice that he had a message on his phone. The woman from Bryant Bros. would realize that Lucy hadn’t come back with the helium tanks and get worried.

Even as each scenario flashed through her mind, Lucy knew that she was truly trapped. Heat from the fire warmed her back. She glanced over her shoulder. There, in the back corner, flames licked the ceiling and crept from the outer room. A few sparks floated around the helium tanks.

Her blood turned cold. If the helium caught on fire, there’d be nothing left of her to save. She scrambled to her feet. Grabbing the dolly, she moved the handcart filled with tanks to the opposite corner. She tossed them off, one by one, and went back to the stack. Lucy’s lungs burned as she moved four more tanks onto the handcart. She walked them to the far corner, dumping them with the rest. Her throat burned and her eyes watered. Heat from the flames pushed down from above and an eerie orange light filled the room.

She came back for another four tanks. Her arms were heavy. Her chest hurt. Her pulse pounded. She forced her legs to move as she crossed the floor. She reached for one tank. Tipping it off the cart, she threw it with the rest. The weight pulled her down. Lucy landed in a heap on the floor.

Smoke was in her eyes. Her nose. Her mouth. Her throat. She coughed; it did no good. She saw the gap in the wall. She needed fresh air. On hands and knees, she crawled toward the opening. But the smoke thickened, turning everything black. Then, the darkness came for Lucy as well.

Chapter 3

Earlier in the day, it had been warm and sunny. But only a few hours after sundown, the temperature had dropped. Aiden was with his family, and they walked down the midway. There were games and food trucks and rides. Sammy now wore a zippered University of North Dakota at Red Grove sweatshirt. Ryan and Matti had matching hoodies. Aiden had to admit that the trio looked cute in their matching shirts. His mom now wore a fleece jacket. It seemed like Aiden was the only one who hadn’t brought something warm to wear.

As the cool night air crept along his skin, he thought of snuggling up with someone next to a warm fire. In his mind, that person was Lucy Harris. Shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his pants, he blew out a long breath. It morphed into a cloud of steam.

“You look cold,” said Emily, patting his arm with her warm hand.

“I’m okay,” he said, even though he was freezing. “It’s not that bad.”

“You can hold Aiden the Space Alien.” Sammy held up the green stuffed toy. “He’ll keep you warm.”

Irony of ironies. Aiden had just been thinking about holding something to keep warm. But the Martian was not at all what he had in mind. “Thanks, kiddo. That’s thoughtful of you,” he said, reaching for the doll. “Us Aidens will have to stick together.” He paused a beat before asking Sammy, “What do you want to do now?”

“I want to do whatever you want to do.”