Wake of the Dead | Two

Chapter Forty-Eight | Killian and Jasper

Killian jolted awake in a cold sweat, his eyes widened. A loud crash from downstairs caught his attention, his heart pounding in his chest. With his muscles tensing, he sat up and gently shoved at Jasper's shoulder repeatedly. The scent of smoke began to slowly waft up into his nose, making his heart pound even faster. "Jasper, Jasper, wake up!" Killian yelled.

The other man's eyes opened slowly, but Jasper shot awake almost immediately after he became conscious of the situation. He stood up, grabbing onto Killian's arm. "Get the other's out of the house, back door," He demanded, his voice tense. "I'll see what's going on. Save as much supplies as you all can."

Killian shook his head frantically, "N-no, I can't just leave you behind."

"It won't take long. I need to make sure nobody is trapped, we don't know where the fire's coming from."

Grabbing onto Jasper's shirt Killian said sharply, "You'd better be okay Army Man, or I swear to god I'll never forgive you. Got that?" He nearly melted when Jasper pressed a delicate kiss on his forehead.

"Yea, I got it." Jasper murmured. As soon as they split ways, Killian quickly skirted his way around the bed and grabbed his crossbow, hiking it over his shoulder. He took a hold of his and Jasper's bags, straining at the weight but forcing himself to move along. Rushing out of their room, Killian skidded down the hallway, slamming his whole body against the bedroom doors to get everybody's attention—his hands were too full to knock.

Casimir had already jumped awake, as well as Jackson. The others slowly began to emerge from their rooms, realizing what was happening. "Grab your shit and let's get the hell out before this gets any worse."

"We don't even know if there's a big fire," Chris coughed in the middle of his sentence as the smoke began to raise through the whole house. Already, Killian could feel it burning his eyes. Tears formed at the corners, his chest heaved, lungs aching for breath as the smoke clouded his vision.

"I'm not taking that chance." Jackson snapped. Killian quickly made his way down the stairs, his eyes widened as he saw the bottom of the stairs being engulfed in flames. He could feel the heat, hear the roaring of it in his ears. Whipping around, he did a head count.

"Has anybody seen Harley?" Killian demanded.

"He went downstairs for a drink earlier." Samantha said shakily, her stomach lurching into a hacking cough.

Swallowing back his panic, Killian forced himself to focus. Adrenaline raced through his veins, his mind in overdrive. There was no way out with the stairs blocking their exit. "We have  to jump the rail." He wheezed, covering his mouth with his arm. "It's not too far and the fire hasn't gotten there yet."

"We could smash a window instead," Casimir gasped, "It's a long drop but we can gather some bedsheets and tie them together while the others hold it."

"What about the last person?" Keagan yelled.

Killian glanced down the stairs as the fire began to rage towards them. "I'll go last." He said. "We need to move. Now."

"Where's Jasper?" Darren and Tom demanded at the same time.

"He's downstairs. He'll find Harley." Killian snapped, "Knowing him he'll be fine. We have to move now." With every step away from the stairs, Killian's heart ached. Dread overcame every one of his emotions. This time, he wasn't completely sure Jasper would be okay. Much worse—if he wasn't, the most horrifying death imaginable awaited him.

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Jasper tucked his nose into his shirt, but it did nothing to filter the smoke out. It swirled before his eyes, he could feel the unbearable heat on his skin. Sweat trailed down his brows, dripping into his eyes and sticking his shirt to his chest. Over the raging flames he heard a raucous cough and a shrieking, desperate scream from the kitchen.