The Tour (2 page)

What are we going to do? How did this happen? How did she get in? I grab Kolton’s hand, but let go when her lips twitch as she hones in on the motion.

“Katharina, come on. Let’s go talk somewhere, just you and me,” Kolton says, standing taller, his body tense.

“I’ve tried that already,” she whispers. “All I wanted was to talk to you, to my tiger. But she won’t share, and then you got a restraining order against me. You leave me no choice.” She’s monotone again, pacing.

“Katharina, put that bottle down. You’ll get hurt, sweetie, and then you won’t be able to model anymore. I don’t want you to get hurt, okay?” Kolton tries, putting his hands out, like he means to soothe her.

“Oh, I don’t
want
to model anymore,” she says, almost like it’s funny. She’s looking at the glass bottle in her hand. “The only way out’ll be the patio, climbing down the emergency exit. But you’ll have to go alone. You won’t be able to save your sister this time. No more heroes!” And then she smiles, a hollow, vacant smile. Mixed with the black in her eyes, it seems to seal our fate. My heart is pounding. My body preparing for fight or flight.

I have to run. If I make it past her, I could get to Riley before she has a chance to light and throw the bottle of accelerant.

“You won’t be a phoenix rising anymore,” she laughs, maniacally, like you’d expect to hear from some villain on TV, not in real life.

Kolton moves up behind me really close and whispers, “When I move, go get Riley,” he demands.

She brings the lighter out from behind her back, her thumb pressing on the metal circle.

Then at the sound of the metal flick of the lighter, he pushes me out of the way as he grabs her arms. I run. I hear the glass crash, but I keep going.

I open the door to Riley’s room; throw the covers off of her, just like last time. I pick her up out of bed and run. She’s heavier now, but adrenaline gives me strength enough to keep going. I smell fire, hear Kolton yelling from somewhere else—maybe the kitchen. I press the elevator button. Smoke is everywhere and the smell of gasoline burns my nostrils, the roaring sound of fire chasing me.

Then screaming again, hers and Kolton’s. I stop for a second, after the door opens. Should I put her in the elevator without me? I could try and help him.

“Run Mia! Run!” I hear him yell and step into the elevator, pressing every button until the door closes on the hell the apartment has become.

“Mia? What happened?” Riley screams and falls down on the metal floor. The smoke followed us into the closed space. “Was it a fire?”

We’re both coughing and hacking, and I’m holding her, shaking together in the corner of the little metal room. I feel us being pulled down toward the ground. It smells like gasoline, and the soles of my feet are burning from when I’d stepped in the fire with my bare feet.

“What about Kolton? Deloris?” She’s screaming, frantic, her little face a mirror image of what she looked like almost two years ago. “We have to help them.” She’s begging me to save them—just like last time.

I don’t know what to say. “The sprinklers will come on. Okay? Plus, Kolton put in those fire escapes. They can get out that way. I’m going to call the police,” I tell her, taking my phone out of my back pocket. “Take a deep breath. They’ll get out, Riley.” I’m trembling so badly, it’s hard to punch the numbers into the glass screen. The doors open and Riley and I escape into the lobby in a plume of smoke.

911.

Ringing.

Ringing.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“What’s going on?” The doorman asks.

“Fire. Wilshire Thayer. Kolton Royce. Thirteenth floor. It was arson! Come quick! He’s still up there. There’re still three adults up there, including the arsonist!” The doorman runs over to the phone and then the alarm starts to sound. He picks up a walkie talkie and yells, “Fire! Thirteenth floor. We have to evacuate the building.”

“What’s your name, ma’am?” the 911 operator asks.

“Mia. Mia Phoenix,” I say. “It’s Kolton Royce who’s up there. Please. Send help, now!” Tears trail down my face as Riley falls to the ground outside the building. “Kolton Royce? Does he live there?” she questions. Her voice changing.

“Yes.” I pace. I count—because counting calms me. I put my hands together like a prayer.

Oh, God! Please don’t let them be dead
, I pray.
Don’t let them be hurt
. Ten bushes outside the building. Bricks, I’m counting—up to forty-eight bricks. I hold Riley outside the lobby, tears running down her cheeks, waiting to find out if our lives are changed forever—just like last time. How could we have lost the family we’ve just created? How could this happen again?

Finally, in the distance, I hear the sirens. I sit down on the cold concrete, close my eyes, and kiss Riley on the top of her head.

“They’re on the way. Okay?” She’s nodding and wiping her face with the sleeve of her pajama top. Families start streaming out of the stairwell, the evacuation taking place. Who’s crying so loudly? Is it me? It’s like I’m outside my body watching this new life come to an end.

But he’s so strong, so beautiful, so kind. And he loves me. He’s a survivor. They have to make it out. They have to.

The sirens, they’re coming. Flashing lights. Red trucks. An ambulance still in the distance.

But, can they come fast enough?

Breathe

I
t dons on me. Manny and Devon are still in the parking garage having a smoke break. Aren’t they? Even though it feels like forever, it’s only been a few minutes since we left them in the parking garage. I pull out my phone and call Devon.

“Mia?” he asks. He sounds out of breath and I can hear the alarm like an echo through the earpiece.

“Katharina! She threw a bottle. Lit it on fire! Kolton’s upstairs. Deloris, too. I called 911!” I’m trying to get it all out at once.

“We heard the alarm—and we’re going up the—stairs right now.” He’s out of breath.

“The fire trucks just got here,” I say, and hold Riley tighter. “But you gotta help them. Please. Devon, please!” My tears wetting a path down my face.

“We’ll do—our best, ma’am.” Then the phone’s dead on his end.

“Devon and Manny are going upstairs to get them, ’kay, Riles,” I say, in the most soothing voice I can. She’s shaking and whimpering as the sleepy, pajama-wearing, rich people congregate near the front door and sidewalk.

“What floor’s the fire?” a woman asks.

“Thirteenth,” I say.

“I don’t see any flames up there,” she says, looking up. When I check and see that for myself—it’s the first sign of hope. Maybe the fire’s out?

The ambulance pulls up, its sirens calling for mercy just as loudly as our tears. “Who’s hurt?” asks the female EMT as she hops out.

“My sister,” I say. “She breathed in a lot of smoke. And Kolton and Deloris are upstairs.”

“How about you?” she asks, as she shines a light in both our eyes.

“I’m fine,” I say. “But you’re going to need to bring more ambulances. For when Kolton and Deloris come out.” I’m determined to stay optimistic as she coaxes us to stand, and Riley and I walk toward the back of the ambulance. I’m watching firemen heading into the entrance and up the stairs.

My heart is pounding as I hold Riley’s hand, watching the door as the EMT puts an oxygen mask on her—and then on me, too.

A police car pulls up along with all the other sirens. Then another. “The caller said there was arson,” the male police officer says as he’s getting out of the car. He walks toward me as I sit on the edge of the ambulance floor, my legs shaking uncontrollably. “Can she talk?” he asks the EMT.

I take the mask off and nod, “It’s Katharina Inez. She broke in and put some accelerant on the floor. Then she threw a bottle filled with it. I ran out with my sister, but Kolton and Deloris are still upstairs.”

“Well, the fire’s out, ma’am. What’s your name?” he asks.

“The fire’s out?” I blurt the words, along with a heavy, relieved breath, all at once. I jump up and I’m shaking my hands—so full of adrenaline.

“Yes, the body guard reported that the sprinklers did their job. My officers are heading up now to make sure it’s safe for the EMTs to go in.”

“Can the firemen do CPR if they need it?”

“Yes. But they can’t go in when there’s a crime in progress. It sounds like a hostage situation.”

“Oh, no. Are they alive? Please?”

“It’s too early to tell,” he says, walking away and talking gibberish into the walkie talkie. I jump up into the ambulance again and check on Riley. She’s got her mask on and is sitting up on the gurney. She nods to me and lets more tears fall. I put my hand on my chest to try and calm the fast pace of my heart, and the racing of my mind.

“Breathe, Riley. Take a deep breath.” I say, as I do the same.

A loud bang rings out from high up in the air. Everyone jumps, including me. People scream and I’m frozen in place. That was definitely a shot.

Heart beating. Breath shallow in my ear. Sirens.

I don’t remember her having a gun. Did she?

It seems like a million frozen-clock minutes until there’s another clue. A gurney being wheeled toward the elevator. Then two more.

“What’s going on?” I ask the air around me. “Did they die? Did they?” I jump down off the ambulance, bare feet against the black asphalt. “I’ll be right back, Riley,” I say as she looks on, wide-eyed and little. The things she’s seen in her young life… things no one should have seen.

I run inside the foyer and watch as they take the folded up gurneys into the elevator. In my peripheral, I see someone coming down the stairwell. White hair. A nightgown drenched. “Deloris?” She’s holding her cat and it’s digging its claws into her arm, but she won’t let him go.

She’s breathing heavily, her face pallid. Her eyes and mouth open wide. When I reach out for her, she falls into my arms and onto her knees. “Help!” I scream. “Deloris, is Kolton—?”

She’s shaking her head. Tears are falling and she’s gasping for air. I realize she’s run down thirteen flights of stairs. That must’ve taken a long time for her. She probably wasn’t even there when the shot went off.

An EMT comes up and helps her onto a stretcher. Another one is putting a blanket over her and they’re checking her eyes for dilation, and then her pulse. She still won’t let go of that damn soaked cat. They push the gurney toward the ambulance Riley and I were in.

The elevator door opens, and the firemen are pulling a gurney out.

I see Kolton’s shoes first. His legs are completely still. His face is obscured by an oxygen mask. He’s alive!

“Oh, thank God!” I say, reaching my hand out to him.

As they wheel him past me, Devon and Manny come out of the second elevator.

I run along the side of the gurney trying to see him, to touch him. It’s then I catch his green eyes as they come into contact with mine. His eyes look wild—imprinted with all that he’s just been through… what he’s seen. Or maybe what he had to do to make it out. I take a breath. He is
alive
and that’s all that matters. I feel lightheaded but full of relief.

“Kolton,” I whisper. He closes his eyes and coughs into the mask. “Are you hurt?” I ask, but he does nothing to respond.

I don’t see blood anywhere. Or burns. Is he burned? I can’t tell. Then he puts his arm out to me, and I gasp. There’s blood running down his arm.

“Ms. Phoenix,” Manny calls to me as Kolton puts his hand out long enough for me to feel the warmth of his skin. He’s soaking wet, from water, I think. When I look down, blood falls into my hand. He grips me tightly.

“Is he okay?” I ask, my voice breaking up into chunks of high-pitched squeals.

“You can’t come with us. Please step back, ma’am,” I’m told before I’m pushed out of the way, forcing Kolton to let go of my hand when they put him into the back of the ambulance.

“I love you,” I say, as the doors are closed and the ambulance drives away. I’m standing in a daze. Barefoot. Covered in stage makeup that must be oozing down my face. There’s blood on my hand. And as I look at it, my hands are shaking.

A flash bursts through my moment of shock and fear. And when I lift my head, I find that photographers are starting to embed themselves amongst the scared people who’ve been evacuated in the middle of the night.

A news van pulls up and the reporter jumps out, followed by a camera man. I put my head down and realize I don’t know what hospital my sister was taken to, or Deloris and Kolton, either. I’m so lost, and time seems to turn in circles around me. I am alone amid so many people out to scoop this story.

I look for my body guard, Manny, and walk toward him, ready to ask him what happened to Kolton when I spot Devon, who’s pacing as the police question him. I watch as they pat him down and take his gun.

“Manny,” I ask. “What happened?” The look on his face is one I’ve never seen. He has sweat on his forehead, his skin is flushed, and his eyes are jittery, busy scanning the scene. “Is Kolton okay?” I ask, “I mean, can someone tell me anything at all?” I’m begging, holding my hands in the prayer position.

As he opens his mouth to speak, he looks up and his eyes grow wide and wary as two officers walk up to him. “Put your hands against the wall,” one says. He stiffens, sticks his chin up, and does as he’s told. They pat him down, and take his gun, too. The photographers snap shots, but I don’t bother to try and hide from them. I can’t even move. I’m dizzy and feel stuck. My heart is beating fast, my chest is rising and falling, but I can’t get enough air.