Page 3 of Her Selfless Warrior (Omega Sky)
“You’re going out to play with Roman,Irinushka. You get to go outside through the window,” he said with a big grin, hoping she would think the whole thing was fun.
“Roman?” she asked.
“Yes. Now, let’s hurry. He’s waiting for you,” Kostya lifted her up to the window and carefully lowered Irina down to Roman. As soon as his brother took ahold of their sister, Kostya hissed at them, “Quick, run to the church steps. I’ll meet you there.”
“No, come with us now,” Roman insisted.
“I can’t. I have to find Grandmother’s jewelry. You’ve got to go now,” he said angrily.
Roman held his ground despite the fact his thin body was shivering in the snow.
“Just go!” Kostya shouted. He waited until he saw Roman turn and start walking, then he ducked back into their room.
I have to find the brooch!
Kostya smelled smoke. He didn’t have much time.
He yanked the blankets off of the flimsy mattress, frantically trying to remember what his Papa had said. Something about his grandmother’s diamond brooch being in the children’s mattress. Kostya wiped the tears and snot from his face as his small hands fumbled to see where the jewelry might have been sewn in. Roman sometimes helped Mama with the sewing, he would have known where to look.
Derr ?moKonstantin swore. He should have thought of that before having Roman go out the window!
Kostya started to cough. He wiped his eyes when they started to sting.
Struggling, he was finally able to pull the mattress off the wooden frame and shove it over. He saw a spot on the back where there was a different kind of thread. It was like when Mama mended his socks. He pulled at it, trying to tear it open with his nails, but it wouldn’t come loose.
I need Mama’s scissors!
Kostya thought desperately for another few seconds, then let out a roar of satisfaction. He ran to his dresser and pulled out the hunting knife his father had given him and hacked at the mattress until the outer layer ripped open, then he dropped the knife and dug inside the stuffing. Finally, his fingers gripped something solid and he pulled it out. It was a velvet pouch with something in it. He fumbled with the string until he could peer inside.
The smell of smoke was overwhelming. He looked over his shoulder and saw the bedroom door had a malevolent yellow glow all around it, and black smoke was pouring in like some kind of evil fog that was trying to devour him.
He turned his attention back to the pouch and inside he saw something shiny. He prayed it was the brooch. He stuffed the bag into his pocket.
He coughed as he ran back to the dresser and grabbed the valise that Roman had used when he’d taken the train to visit Uncle Mikhail, then stuffed it full with as many jackets, shoes, and clothes that would fit. He was surrounded by the gray fog, but he still managed to see the open window. Kostya stumbled toward it and then went to throw the bag onto the bed so that he could climb out the window, but it wouldn’t work with the mattress gone and he didn’t have the time or the strength to pull it back on the bedframe.
Kostya had been trying to ignore the sound of the crackling fire behind him, but he jumped when there was a loud pop. When he turned to look at the door he saw that flames were licking around the entire door frame. Kostya choked back a sob and pushed down his fear.
Turning back to the mattress on the floor he figured out what to do. He pulled back the flimsy bedframe and shoved it up against the wall so that he could climb onto its side. He lifted the valise then hefted it onto his shoulder and threw it through the open window. Kostya sucked in a deep breath of fresh air, then he shimmied out the window and dropped down into the melting snow. When he looked back at the house he saw where the fire was clawing toward the sky.
He turned back and saw the small footprints made by his brother and sister but he ignored them. He turned back to the house. Mama was dead, there was no hope for her. But maybe Papa?
He did everything he could to shut out the roar and heat of the fire as he crept around the side of his house, hoping against hope that his father might still be out front. When he got to the corner of the house, there was nothing.
No car.
No monsters.
Nothing.
In minutes that felt like a lifetime, he’d lost both his parents.
A searing pain jolted him as embers from the house hit his forearm. He hefted up the valise and ran to the church.
He still had his brother and sister to take care of. Now it was up to him to be strong and brave.
