Two Souls: Into the Fire # 106
TWO SOULS: INTO THE FIRE
Ghost immediately ran out onto the icy porch, to rescue Steve, but slipped and landed hard on his butt. He cried out, but scooted on over to Steve, and tried to pull him up.
“Ghost, stop…my leg is broke, I think. It hurts…stop pulling!”
“I have to get you inside, Steve. I have to drag you up the steps. Holler if you have to, but I’m not stopping,” Ghost told him.
He yanked Steve’s arms, again. An inch at a time, he pulled…and slipped back, again and again. Steve had yelled, but then passed out. Ghost saw that Steve’s leg looked all crooked…not right at all. He was trying his best not to hurt Steve, but he could not stop. They would both freeze, if he did.
His hips and butt were aching, and his arm muscles were strained almost to their limit. Finally, he dragged Steve over the door sill, and closed the door behind them. It wasn’t any warmer in the kitchen, but at least the wind was off of them.
“Steve, Steve…wake up…we’re inside now!” He was scared Steve was already dead. He shook him, and listened for breathing, and a heartbeat. Both were steady and strong, but Steve still wouldn’t wake up. Ghost found blankets to cover him with.
“What do I do…what do I do?,” he said over and over. He was crying hard, and trying not to freak out completely. “This is a crisis,” he told himself. “I have to keep it together…for now…think, think…”
Then he remembered the cell phone. He ran to get it, managing to remember how to turn it on…but, nothing happened. There was no dial tone, and when he pushed in Kinsey’s number, it didn’t work. Pushing all the little buttons did no good, so he threw the phone across the room, where it broke open, the battery falling out.
“Piece of shit,” he yelled.
He went back to check on Steve. Steve was coming around, moaning and trying to open his eyes.
“Steve, wake up,” Ghost hollered into Steve’s ear. “Please wake up. I have to go get help.”
Running back to the bedroom, he pulled on sweatpants, a flannel shirt, a sweater, and his Army jacket. Finding some boots, and a knit hat and scarf, he hoped that would be enough. He found gloves in the jacket pocket, and put them on. He went back in to the kitchen.
“Steve, I’m going to get help. Don’t move…I’ll try to hurry.” He told him, then went out the front door. He had to push hard, as there was a huge drift blocking the way out. He couldn’t see the porch steps, now, so took a big jump, hoping to clear them. He did, but fell face first into the snow. Struggling up, he took one giant step at a time, against the wind, his eyes stinging from the icy snowflakes hitting his face.
It was dark now, and he’d not taken a flashlight, but he knew exactly where he was. Breathing hard, he came to the main road leading into town. He had five miles to go, but he just knew it would take him a long time to get there. He wrapped his scarf over his face, except for his eyes, and kept walking. There was no cars on the road to flag down; there would be no traffic, until the roads were plowed.
I hope Steve is gonna be ok…I hope Kinsey knows what to do…I hope I make it into town, and don’t freeze out here…
Snow had gotten over the top of his boots, and now was melting on his socks. It felt like walking in ice water. He didn’t like the squishy sounds they made, and he was chilled to the bone. Eventually, he came to the main street, but it was dark…no lights in the whole town. Reaching the club, he pounded on the door.
“Kinsey, let me in! Hurry, Kinsey…open the door!” He got no response.
Going around to the back parking lot, he tried the door there, but it was locked, too. He banged on the door, anyway, hoping Kinsey would hear. But, when it didn’t work, he looked around the lot. He saw the recycle bin, full of empty beer bottles. Grabbing one, he backed up until he could see Kinsey’s upstairs window. There was a faint light on in there. Taking aim, he threw the bottle at the window. It only went halfway up, before rolling back down the overhanging roof of the club, right below the window. Trying again, he did hit the window, but it wasn’t hard enough to break it. Again he threw a bottle, and this time the window shattered. Tinkling glass rained down on the street, disappearing into the snow.
“Who’s out there?” Kinsey yelled out the broken window, as he looked over the parking lot.
“Kinsey, let me in,” Ghost yelled back.
“Ghost…is that you? What the hell are you doing out there? Just a minute, I’ll open the door,” Kinsey said.
As he opened the door, Ghost fell in, then scrambled up. “Kinsey, you have to help. Steve’s hurt real bad.”
“Did you walk all the way here? Come and get a blanket. There’s a heater in the office,” Kinsey said, as he led the way. He hurried to turn on the small space heater. Ghost followed, then collapsed onto the couch.
“What are you talking about,” Kinsey asked. “What’s wrong with Steve?”
Ghost finally caught his breath enough to say, “Steve is hurt. He fell down and broke his leg. I thought he was dead, but he just hit his head, too, and I dragged him inside…and the phone don’t work. I had to leave him on the floor, and come and get you, and you gotta come and help,” he said, and began crying. “I didn’t know what else to do, Kinsey.”
“This is bad, Ghost. The roads are blocked…no one can get out there. I’m going to call 911, but they may not even be able to get here,” Kinsey said.
Kinsey’s cell phone was out, too, but the desk phone was still working. He listened for a minute, then slammed down the phone. “I can’t believe it…a recording saying there are outages, and no calls are getting through.”
“What are we gonna do?” Ghost asked. “We have to help Steve, before he freezes to death. Our heat went out, and he can’t even move on his broke leg.”
“Ghost you better hold it together…I mean it,” Kinsey looked at Ghost, hard.
Ghost nodded. “I know, I’m trying to.”
“Let me think,” Kinsey said. “Ghost, I’m too old to be out in this weather…I just can’t do it. But, I want you to go get Terry. I know he’s home. He has that big old truck in his lot, and it’s got those huge tires, and 4-wheel drive. Maybe, just maybe, he can drive it out there. That’s all I can think of…now go.”
“But, what about his leg, Kinsey? He needs a doctor to fix it.”
“I know, Ghost, I know…but, for now, just stay with him and make sure he stays warm. I’ll keep trying the phone. That’s all I can do, right now,” Kinsey said. “Oh, wait a minute…” He ran upstairs. When he came back down, he handed Ghost a thermos. “Hot coffee…now go…”
Ghost bundled up again, and made his way over to Terry’s.
Next part coming soon!
Thanks for visiting! Peace ☮️
© 2019 BS
This is a work of “fan fiction” based on the novel, “Lost Souls” by Poppy Z. Brite. All credit for the original characters, places, and some backstory mentions, belong to Ms. Brite and her publishing affiliates. Only newly introduced characters, places, and original elements of this story are entirely from my imagination. Character descriptions are a blend of the original book descriptions and my interpretation of them.
All songs included in this work will be solely owned by the original performers/writers and will be credited. Creative license is taken in including them in this story.
No harm is intended toward author, musicians, or people and situations to whom there may be a resemblance.
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The content herein is rated by me as being at the high end of MA (Mature Audience). It includes strong language, violence, sexual themes, including same sex pairings, religious themes, and fantasy horror.