"Stop doing that! You're starting to stress me out!" Deputy Pelton snapped.
"What the hell am I supposed to do? Our boss locked himself in a burning log cabin and we're just standing here!" Falcon returned the attitude.
She started pacing in the front yard. She couldn't stop herself. She tried to take deep breaths. She tried counting to ten. Nothing was working.
"He'll be fine, he knew what he was doing."
"He ran into a burning building!" She felt like she was going to lose her mind.
She was afraid to lose Sheriff Winston. Even though he hadn't been the sheriff of Brimington for long, he had been incredibly kind to her. He often stopped in her office to briefly chat.
She had transferred over from another police department. Unlike Deputy Pelton, he had been a normal patrol officer. He was promoted to a deputy role after everything fell apart with the old deputies.
At the last police department, Falcon was the only female patrol officer. After experiencing harassment from other patrol officers, she quit and promised herself she was done being an officer.
Leaving the force left a gaping hole in her heart. Of course, she hated being harassed all the time, but she missed her job. She missed taking criminals off the streets. It made her feel like she was doing something good with her life.
When she was sent information, by a friend, about Brimington hiring a deputy, she hesitated. Deep down, she was afraid there would be more harassment. So far, she hadn't experienced that.
She started a week before Sheriff Winston. When they met, he informed her that if she needed anything, she could come to him. The role of Brimington County Deputy was like a breath of fresh air for her.
She heard a few stories about Winston now and then. She wanted to hear more. She wanted to learn from him. She wanted him to be a mentor to her. That wouldn't happen if he was dead.
"If he's not out within the next three minutes, we'll go in through the side door. We'll use the cement block and shatter it. Give him time to do what he needs to do. I can guarantee you, he didn't run in there blindly." Pelton attempted to reassure her.
Falcon had stopped her pacing. Instead, she was staring at the cabin with tears in her eyes. Pelton wished she went back to her pacing. He didn't like seeing anyone cry. "The fire department should be here soon anyway," he added.
"Okay," Falcon's voice came out softly. She crossed her arms over her chest and folded into herself.
She searched for Winston's figure in the windows. She couldn't spot him. It made her worry more. The fire was spreading rapidly. What if he was in the back and caught up in the fire? What if he collapsed from smoke inhalation?
What if…?
What if…?
What if…?
There were so many thoughts running around Falcon's head. None of them were good. They all ended with Winston dying. She gnawed on her lip and tried to change her thought process. Winston was going to get out of the cabin. He was going to be fine.
For her sake, he had to be.
_ _ _
Winston knew it was irrational, but there was no time for rationality. He was in a hurry when he entered the house. He knew there was a video camera on the kitchen counter.
He had ignored Marina Falcon's objections from the other side of the locked door. He had no idea how to work the camera. He pressed the on button and the record button. He prayed it would work out.
A red light came on the front of the camera. He hoped it meant it was recording. He filmed in front of him until he entered Denise's bedroom.
The fire lit up her dresser. It slowly moved along the walls. It devoured everything it touched. As the fire grew, the temperature rose in the room. He ignored it and filmed Denise's body.
He went in close and filmed every little detail. Her face, the gash on her neck, her blood-soaked left hand. He even made sure to zoom in on her right hand with the knife. He zoomed in on her bruised knuckles.
He hated dead bodies. He hated them since he was a child. He knew they were dead. Deep down, he was afraid they'd come back to life. They'd spring up and scare him.
Cold hands would wrap around his neck. He'd struggle to get them to release their grip. They'd squeeze tighter and tighter. His air flow would be cut off. They'd take him to the grave with them.
When he was finished filming her dead body, he filmed around the room. He watched through the screen as the fire continued to spread. The smoke was starting to become too thick. He had to get out of the house.
"I don't know if anyone will see this. I'm not sure if I'm doing this right. This is the rest of the cabin."
Winston walked into the hall and went into the bathroom. He turned around in a circle to get a 360 view. He did the same in the living room and the kitchen.
This would be the last time he'd be in Denise's cabin. The fire was starting to burn faster now. The flames were crawling out of Denise's bedroom.
Winston kept the camera rolling. Deputy Pelton and Deputy Falcon were younger than him by, at least, a decade. He was counting on them to know how to work the video camera.
Obviously, he knew how to work a video camera. This one was a newer model. There were more buttons. He was afraid to press the wrong button. If he messed up, the recording would disappear. He'd have nothing to look back on. There would be no chance of solving Denise Houghton's murder.
He stepped into the kitchen and placed the video camera on the counter. Denise's backpack was sitting along with it. Winston knew he shouldn't have, but it didn't matter. Denise was dead and he was looking for clues.
He unzipped the neon backpack and glanced inside it. A laptop with a charger and a notebook stared back at him. It wasn't much, but he could attempt to find something useful on it.
He slung it over his shoulder and started to head to the front door. Denise's camera sat in his left hand. The fire leaped down the hallway. He had to get out before it was too late.
A muffled meow stopped him in his tracks. He turned back around and scanned the area. With tonight's events, he had forgotten about Dupe.
"Dupe, where are you?" Winston called out.
Suddenly, he was afraid for the small orange kitten. Worry flooded his veins. He headed towards the cabinets and opened them. Another small meow was barely audible. Winston froze in his tracks listening for another meow.
Sweat trickled down his forehead, but he couldn't leave. He wouldn't forgive himself for letting the kitten burn to death. He wiped it off with the back of his hand and continued listening.
The cry came again from the middle of the kitchen. Winston had a terrible thought and hoped it wasn't true. He opened the refrigerator door and glanced in the fridge. He shut it and paused. Another small meow came from above. He held his breath and opened the attached freezer. He was horrified by what he saw.
Dupe was perched on the top freezer shelf. A few frozen dinners had been shoved to the bottom shelf. He stared at Winston through half-closed green eyes.
His four paws were taped together with duct tape. A small gash, similar to Denise's, sat on his neck. It hadn't been deep enough to kill him.
He had been laying there; bleeding and freezing. Red-hot rage filled Winston's body. Someone killed Denise Houghton and tried to kill her kitten as cruelly as they killed her.
He went back to the camera, picked it up, and raised it to film the inside of the freezer. Sirens honked from outside. He moved the camera closer to Dupe.
"I'm going to get you out of here. We'll get you fixed up, come here little guy." Winston lowered the camera and scooped Dupe up.
He held his small frozen body close to his chest. He was hoping his body heat and the heat from the fire would warm him. Winston's throat suddenly went dry. He turned his head and started to cough.
He had to get out of the cabin. He had been inside for too long. The oxygen inside the cabin was fueling the fire. It was being replaced by carbon monoxide. If the fire didn't kill him, the smoke inhalation would.
He shut the freezer and ran to the front door. Dupe let out another soft meow. Winston apologized and reached out to unlock the door. He jerked his hand back at once. The metal knob had heated to the point where it was too hot to touch.
He reached out to touch the knob again. He'd have to ignore the heat. He had to get outside. He tried the lock again. His fingers sizzled at the touch. He ripped them away and shook his hand.
By some miracle, Falcon appeared in the small window panel of glass. She pounded on the wood and tried to jiggle the handle. She looked up to meet Winston's eyes. He sadly shook his head.
He turned to the side and started to cough again. His chest was starting to hurt. He had to get out. He glanced back behind him. The wall of fire had reached the living room. It was starting to nip at the couch. On the other side, it was engulfing the landline phone.
Out of nowhere, Winston was hit by a wave of nausea. Thick white smoke rolled towards him in waves. There was nowhere to go.
The front door was too hot. He didn't want to go towards the side door. The flames were starting to spread. The handle was metal, he'd have the same issue. There was nothing he could do besides accept his death. He held Dupe a little tighter. He bent down so he could hear him.
"I'm sorry," Winston apologized. The smoke stung his eyes. "I'm sorry it's going to end like this. I tried to get us out, I'm sorry."
He struggled to stay upright as he got dizzy. The symptoms of smoke inhalation were growing more intense. He couldn't handle it much longer.
He was going to die.
_ _ _
Marina Falcon wasn't giving up. She decided that after she joined the Brimington Police Department. She loved her job too much. She loved saving people and she loved taking criminals off the street.
The fire truck and another police officer had shown up. Winston wasn't unlocking the front door. That left the side door.
She ran to the back with Deputy Pelton on her heels. They ignored the pleas from one of the firefighters. They didn't have time to wait. They needed Winston out now.
The smoke inside the house had thickened since Falcon last saw it. The singular orange flame had created a heavy, almost yellow and brown, smoke. They couldn't see Winston from outside.
They couldn't see anything at all. The smoke pressed against the glass door. It had nowhere to go. It was trapped inside along with Winston.
"Stand back, I'll throw this." Pelton grabbed the cement block off the ground.
He struggled to carry it up the steps. All he had to do was get it through the glass. He could kick the rest of the glass away. He just needed a small opening.
"Go ahead, we can't waste any more time!" Falcon hurried him.
He swung the brick back and forth to gain momentum. After a few swings, he was ready to throw it. The brick left his hands. It went flying into the glass.
"Stop!" A firefighter came around the corner. "Stop! Get back!" His green eyes were wide with panic.
Falcon and Pelton ignored him. The smoke funneled out of the small opening. Pelton was quick to kick away more pieces of glass. Falcon helped kick in the other side. She waved the smoke away from her face.
"Winston!" Falcon called out. "Winston, come on!"
Boom!
Pelton felt the rush of heat before he saw it coming. He closed his eyes in a panic. Falcon's sight was engulfed with bright orange. She felt the tip of her nose burn.
The explosion sent the pair flying backwards. It was so powerful, it sent both of them off the back porch. The deck ratted with the explosion. They flipped over the back railing.
Falcon's ears rang as she hit the ground. All she could see was the moon staring at her from above. The smell of oak wood lingered in her nostrils. A different firefighter appeared in her line of vision.
The woman said something, but Falcon couldn't hear her. All she could hear was ringing. She couldn't feel anything other than the rattling of her bones. Had she lost her hearing?
She slowly sat up and glanced over. Deputy Pelton laid a few feet away. A few shards of glass were stuck in his forehead. Falcon leaned over and tried to shake him awake, but it was no use.
She struggled to make sense of what happened. The two firefighters were talking to each other. The girl glanced at her and said something. Falcon shook her head and pointed to her ear.
She tried to tell them about Winston. She opened her mouth and tried to say the right words. She couldn't hear herself speak. All she could do was point towards the engulfed cabin and hope they'd understand.
She laid back down and let her eyes close. Exhaustion took over her. She wiggled her right hand over to Pelton. When she felt his hand, she gripped it for comfort. She let the ground swallow her. The firefighters would get it from here. Whatever happened next, they'd take care of it.
The last thing she remembered was looking at the full moon and Pelton's callused hand in her's.