An arsonists cookbook

Chapter 7: Amber Rose

She awoke to a doctor asking her if it was ok for her to move out of her bed into the waiting room. She was startled at the fact she was just asked a such obscene question but when she saw the amount of people that were being rushed into the doors. She instantly got into the small wheelchair that was waiting for her at the side of her bed. Her small frame was crippled and fatigued. She was moved next to a young boy who was holding his mothers hand in fright of the mounds of hospital staff that were rushing around like a stampede of ox's being chased by hungry cheetahs. The most experienced staff were leading teams of nurses and doctors to tend to the most fatal injuries, people were missing limbs and many of them had large collections of third degree burns all over them. Many of them were older teachers but a few of them were young scholars. Twenty-three to thirty-eight. were her guesses on how old the injured and dead whom were passing her wheelchair. She began to worry about the young boy who had taken her bed. Her mind then began to race to her mothering side and she was conclusively thinking that her baby wasn't safe, she began to twitch with panic in her chair. She knew whatever she said wouldn't be noticed, so she decided the best option was just to wait it out.

After a few hours she saw two detectives open the front door and walk straight towards the bed that she had just been lying in. One of the detectives' trilby covered his face but she recognised his large frame. Weedy and decrepit, just like Jack. It was him it had to be. The second detective matched the description of Jack's partner who he always said he didn't like working with. The second detective was African-American and well over six foot. It had to be him, that's when he turned around and stared at her right in the eyes. Dead. No expression. It was Jack, she recognise his sour looking face anywhere. She had to try and hide her face. It was too late, he knew where she was and sooner or later her life would be made hell by the detective who she once loved. She always thought that he was a corrupt and that someone, somewhere was paying for their rent and that's why she had to own his car, she loved that car more than him. Not for the make; for the memories. They drove away from their wedding in that car. They had went to their first drive in theatre with that car. The had did so much with each other in that blasted Mercedes Benz. That name haunts me, Mercedes Benz. One man had somehow managed to put her off a make of car. That lawyer could sort him out, he was so good looking. She knew the mess she was in could be resolved by that suave lawyer, however, she knew it wouldn't be easy. For one she had to get away from Jack  and his obsessive tendencies, after that she had to make her small run down motel room look good. Before all of that she had to persuade the lawyer to court. This isn't gonna be easy.