Within Gold and Glass (Book One of the Jamyria Series)

Into the Depths (Pt. 3)

Her lungs rasp as they fill with smoke. Seeing, too, is difficult as it grows thicker along the road. Her eyes sting in protest.

She wishes to lie down. She wishes to disappear. To reverse the last twenty minutes and still be heading home talking to her sister, arguing even if it means a better alternative to this unsightly night. But she can't. She can't even find the will to look away from the scene laid out in front of her.

The man in the faded red t-shirt skids to a stop as he reaches the car. He gives an unsuccessful attempt to fan away the smoke before searching for a way of entry. Bending over the flashy Mustang that hit Margo's side, now a totaled mess of scrap metal, he peers in the window. The seconds tick by like hours. The ache of waiting overcomes the pain of her crippled arm. She would sacrifice her heart if it means the survival of her family.

Finally, his head reappears, but Margo isn't prepared for the mortified expression he wears. Her body numbs, and she can't help but think the words: which one?

She kicks herself immediately. They're both fine. They have to be. The Grisbys are fighters. There's never a burden they can't surpass. Haven't they struggled together as a family the entirety of her life?

The man pulls himself through the window Margo must have climbed out of. She wouldn't know; her body acted on its own accord. He disappears for another twelve heartbeats, and then emerges dragging her mother out behind him.

A knot of tension releases from Margo's back. Though disoriented, her mom is alive. Her head falls back as he cradles her in his arms, and she loses consciousness. People shout as he staggers away with her limp body, but Margo can no longer hear them. The only thing she's aware of is her mother.

He drops her to the ground next to Margo, panting. "You good?" he asks her, turning away immediately for phrasing that question so carelessly. How can she be 'good?' Her mother's alive, yes, but unconscious while Kylie is... Where is she? "Look after her... Keep her breathing. Lot of...smoke..." He coughs, hardly able to breathe himself.

Rising to go back to the cars once more, Margo notices him sway as if he can barely carry himself. She doesn't see how he can possibly manage to carry her sister.

Her eyes follow him all the way to her sister's side of the car where he pulls himself onto the hood of the black SUV. He curses, falling back to the pavement and patting his hands on his pants violently as if he's been attacked by a swarm of bees.

The black SUV ignites, the flicker of flames slowly licking at the car. This time Margo hears the screams of the people in the streets. Dozens leave their cars behind and run to the safety of the nearby fields.

The man reaches through the broken window grasping toward the front seat.

"What are you doing?" It isn't the voice of Margo's rescuer but another man from the streets. He doesn't dare get any closer to the cars. "That's gasoline. Get away from there!"

Margo clasps her face with her hand when she spots the orange flickering reflection under the man in the faded shirt's feet. Gasoline, pools of it.

He curses again, reaching further into the car until the hot metal hood sears his skin. He snarls in response.

"Get back!" the other shouts. He signals for everyone near the vehicles to evacuate. Sirens blare in the background. But they're too far off.

He can't 'get back,' not with her sister still stranded inside the car. His strained face is proof that he is indeed giving up, though. Margo's eyes widen knowingly. Tears spring to life without her permission, streaking lines through the grime on her cheeks.