Into the Fire

The gun was cold against Marcus’s spine as he hit the dirt, face down in the gravel, the rough ground biting into his skin. The air was thick with smoke, burning his lungs with every breath, and the flames from the house behind him clawed higher into the night sky, a fierce glow casting shadows across the yard. Sweat beaded down his temples, mixing with the dust caked on his face, but Marcus didn’t flinch. His heart was pounding, but his mind was clear—too much was at stake to panic now.

“On your feet,” a voice growled behind him. The pressure of the barrel eased off his back just enough for Marcus to shift his weight. He tasted the metallic tang of blood where he’d bitten his lip, spat out the gum that had gone stale in his mouth, and slowly pushed himself to his knees. The flames crackled louder, swallowing the creaking house piece by piece, and the heat scorched his back even from here.