Sheltered - A Short Story Page 4
Sloan began to laugh. “So, you’re the wife stealer who’s harboring my darling!”
“You’re not wanted here! We mean you no harm! Just go on your way and be done with it!”
“I’m never done with it!” Sloan yelled angrily.
Brent took a few more steps onto the porch – Sloan being only an arm’s length away.
“You think you can stand up to me! You think you can intimidate me standing that way, you piece of shit?” Sloan yelled.
Sloan bent over and grabbed the second gas can. With one swift movement, he sent the gas can flying towards the cabin. It landed on the porch as gas began pouring out. Brent lunged towards Sloan, tackling him to the ground. Sloan threw a fist towards Brent which landed right on Brent’s jaw. Brent stumbled back but was quickly back on his feet. One of Brent’s arm flew through air, smacking Sloan in the temple, his cigarette flying out of his mouth. The world seemed to slow down as I watched that cigarette fly through the air. It landed on the porch and instantly flames shot high into the air. The force of the igniting gasoline sent Sloan and Brent flying back a few feet. The door to the cabin slammed shut.
“Brent!” I yelled.
I ran to the door and tried opening it. My hands gripped the handle firmly and began to tug and pull then push and shove as hard as I could. I began to kick the door, hit the door, scream at the door – anything to get it open. I ran back to the window to see Sloan and Brent back at it in a brawl. My fist slammed into glass nearly shattering it but were burned from the heat of the flames. I ran back to the door. I had to find a way out.
To my right, something shiny caught my eye – the ax. I picked it up and swung it at the door. It bounced off the door as if it was concrete. My hands tightened around the handle and took another swing. A small chunk of the door fell to the ground. I swung again and again, a few more pieces falling off. I turned towards the windows and saw the flames were now inside the cabin. I turned back towards the door and swung harder, faster. More pieces continued to fall off. With another swing, one large piece fell to the ground. It created a hole but not nearly big enough for me slip through. I was able to peer outside and see Brent trying to fight off Sloan. Sloan was holding Brent’s legs and torso while Brent fought to get to me.
I continued to swing. With each swing of the ax I felt a piece of Sloan leaving me. It was as if my anger and terrors from him were being transferred into the ax. Three more swings and a large panel fell to the floor. My hands dropped the ax as I began to try and squeeze through the door. It still wasn’t a big enough hole. I backed out and began to pull pieces of wood off with my hands. From deep inside, I let out a bellowing scream. I pushed myself into the hole again and soon I tumbled out onto the porch.
Flames shot up all around me as I lied there. Quickly, I rolled off the porch, my clothes and hair beginning to get scorched. I rolled myself onto my stomach and saw Sloan sitting on top of Brent, laying punch and after punch into Brent’s face. As quickly as I could, I rose to my feet and lunged for Sloan. He toppled over and quickly threw me onto my back. My fist soared through the air and hit his temple. Sloan stumbled back but I kept hitting him, harder and harder. With one solid swing of his hand, he punched me square in the temple. I stumbled back, fighting off unconsciousness.
I could hear Sloan getting to his feet. He stood over me and began to laugh. I was able to open my eyes enough to see Brent all bloodied. His eyes were swollen shut and I was unable to tell if he was alive.
“You fucking bitch!” Sloan yelled. “This is what happens when you try to be on your own! You’ll never make it! You need me!”
Sloan laughed again before opening the door to his truck. I looked at Brent and saw his hand try to move towards me. I crawled over to him, my head spinning and blood pouring out of face.
“Brent,” I cried. “Brent, I am so sorry.”
I held him in my arms the way he always held me. Slowly, one of his hands came up and stroked my face. A small smile appeared on his face, however mangled and bloodied it was. I couldn’t help but smile back as I cried.
Sloan’s truck roared to life. The engine revved a few times as I began to pull on Brent. I had to get him to his feet. Slowly, Brent began to rise, first to his knees, then on one foot. Sloan revved the engine and I heard the truck shift into gear. The truck accelerated towards us. I pushed Brent forwards and jumped on top of him. The truck flew past us, running straight into the burning cabin.
I sat there with one arm on Brent, readying myself to move him again if I had to. Those few moments seemed like days as we lied on the ground. It was then that the truck erupted into a massive ball of flames. I cried out in terror. My mind was unable to process what I was witnessing. I knew in that moment, though, that Sloan was gone.
Two Years Later
A single ray of morning light broke through the curtains and landed on my face, teasing my eye. I rolled over and sighed as I reached across the bed. Tousled pillows and blankets lay next to me and I instantly flashed back to that last night at the cabin. Had it really been two years already?
I sat myself up in bed and placed a hand on my pregnant stomach. A small smile appeared as I began to soothe the baby, letting it know that nothing like I went through would ever happen to it. Brent entered the room and handed me a mug of coffee before planting a kiss on my cheek. We sat there for a moment and stared at the miracle that was happening inside of me. Soon, we found ourselves on the porch of our new cabin. The Alaska wilderness surrounded us as we sat there enjoying the warm morning sun. A mother moose and her baby crossed into the clearing in front of us, whom we affectionately named Cassidy and Baby.
I turned to Brent and smiled. “I love you,” I said, I felt, I vowed.
S H E L T E R E D
--- A Short Story ---
B. R. Miller
© Copyright 2018 B. R. Miller Media
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