Pyro

Prologue

"Boys- get him!"

Aide burst out from the side street and out into the crowd, searching desperately for his mum, dad, or any friendly face. The crowd had moved and he could see no one he knew, just faces illuminated by the glow from the pyrotechnics in the sky. A glance behind him told him that the boys were upon him, the tops of their bodies aflame with the barrels on their shoulders. The tops of their heads seemed to shimmer with orange fire and billow black smoke up to the night sky. Aide could feel the heat as they chased him.

He darted through the crowd, unnoticed around the legs of strangers, his pursuers attracting rather more attention. The crowd screamed and laughed at the boys, and a few proud cheers emanated from those who had performed the same mad stunt in their youth. Aide rebounded off a fat man's legs and found himself in the main road, now a part of the parade himself. The crowd pointed and laughed at the lost boy. Aide turned around, desperate for a sight of his mum, instead coming face to face with the Obby-Oss, his large black costume rocking to and fro with the beat of drums, the painted mask with flaming eyes bearing down on him. Aide screamed and changed his tack, running sideways toward the chip shop, separating from the main crowd to see if he could shake off Rainer and the barrel boys, but still they came, in hot pursuit. He sprinted towards the harbour, and found himself alone among rows and rows of lobster pots, unable to see the crowd or his attackers. The smell of stale fish and fireworks lingered in the air and he could hear the muffled exclamations of the crowd as another display exploded above them. Aide slipped down another aisle of woven lobster pots, catching his breath and peering through the gaps in the walls to see if he had finally shaken off the boys. He found himself down a dead end, the pots leading him to a ten foot drop into the harbour, but nowhere else. He started back towards the crowd, convinced he had lost them, but as he turned, he saw them.

The burning barrels hung loosely at their sides, lighting them from below. Their malevolent grins were bathed in a hellish glow. Rainer led them slowly towards Aide, dragging the barrels by their sides. He spoke, soft and low, menacing and evil.

"You like sticking your nose in Jones?"

Aide cowered in fear and backed away.

"You want to be one of us?"

Aide shook his head fervently and sidestepped closer to the harbour, his cheap trainers gripping the edge of the wall.

"You want to feel the fire?"

Aide, consumed with panic, looked around manically for help, but of course there was no one. Just tiny Aide, surrounded by burning bullies. He looked down at the harbour. The murky water was dark and uninviting, his only way out. It was a long drop into the black abyss, but he could see no other option. He couldn't quite swim yet, but his dad had taught him how to stay afloat. He shrank down to the ground as the boys inched closer to him, crouching and covering his head, as if to block the boys out completely. Rainer laughed.

"Let's give him a taste of the fire boys!"

The other boys agreed and raised their barrels above their heads. They laughed and shouted insults, jostling Aide with their feet. Aide knew there was worse to come. He was doubled up on the ground now, his face buried in his knees. He rocked back and forth, moaning, trying to wish himself away to safety. The fear coursed through his body, his tiny heart beating inside his chest. The shouts grew louder and louder. Out of the corner of his eye a few dying embers from the barrels fell to the ground. He looked up into Rainer's face, and his fear turned to anger and hatred. He despised this boy, hated him with all his body and soul. He felt it welling up inside of him, flowing through him like lava. It crept up his body to reach his head, burning his cheeks and ears, until finally-

"Aaagh!" screamed one of the boys.

"Bloody hell!" yelled another. Rainer and the last boy screamed in unison as the barrels above their heads exploded, sending shards of tar-soaked wood flying around them. Sparks drifted down onto their clothes and they threw what was left of the barrels into the harbour below. The boys ran off, stamping out small fires along the way, patting their smouldering sleeves and yelling for their mothers. Rainer turned at the end of the aisle of lobster pots and sneered at Aide, still crouched low, his head buried in his lap.

"This ain't over Jones," he shouted, and ran off into the night.

Aide lay down on the damp of the ground, his mind a chaotic mess of fear, anger, relief and confusion. He started to cry. He hugged his legs to his body, rocking back and forth, clutching his one remaining mitten. He was scared to move, scared to stay, scared to his very core. He wanted to hear his mum's voice, feel her arms around him, and smell her perfume close to him...

"There you are you silly beggar. I've been worried sick."

He didn't know how much time had passed, only that she was there, and he was safe now. He stood and flung his arms around her. She whispered soothing words, and led him home, washing the fear away.