Chapter 7 The Fire

• "How the hell do I do that?" Angry civilians were outside. A sheriff stood at the door. Mayor Vic everywhere. Even if he wasn’t present at the hospital, his influence was.
• Kiera’s voice dropped to a rasp, eyes flickering with fear and urgency.
• “There’s a mysterious alien egg… buried beneath this town.”
• She gripped Drake’s wrist tightly. “You don’t understand. If it hatches… this dome won’t be the end. It'll be the beginning.” Her voice cracked. She lied.
• Her eyes darted to the hallway. She was fully possessed now.
• “You need to get me out of here ASAP… before they do.”
• Drake did not have time to process her words.
• His mind whirled. Without hesitation, he shoved a metal shelf against the main door, blocking it.
• The sheriff guarding the ward stomped in, face grim, nightstick drawn.
• “You’re done here,” he growled. “Mayor’s orders.”
• Drake stood, shielding Kiera. “Back off. She’s coming with us.”
• The sheriff didn’t answer. He lunged.
• The blow struck Drake hard across the jaw. His head snapped sideways, blood spraying from his lip. He staggered but didn’t fall.
• The second strike came fast… Drake barely raised his arm in time. The baton slammed his forearm, bone crunching under impact. He dropped to one knee, vision swimming. Blood dripped from his nose, painting his teeth red.
• “Lena take her. Now!” he gasped.
• Lena hesitated only a second before she grabbed Kiera’s weak body, flinging the IV off with a snap and dragging her toward the fire exit at the back of the ward.
• The sheriff caught it.
• He turned but Drake lunged from the ground like a rising beast, ramming into him with raw fury. They crashed into the medical cart. Metal clanged. Syringes scattered.
• The sheriff roared, swinging again. Drake ducked, then drove his elbow into the man’s gut. The sheriff wheezed, off-balance. Drake grabbed the baton, twisted it and with a surge of rage, cracked it against the side of the man’s head.
• Blood burst from the sheriff’s forehead. He collapsed, groaning and twitching.
• Drake stood over him, panting, blood smeared across his face, hands trembling.
• He didn’t hesitate.
• He sprinted through the fire exit, smoke alarms blaring now, catching sight of Lena half-dragging, half-carrying Kiera down the metal stairs into the alley.
• Behind them, red hospital lights flashed against the night, but ahead only darkness and escape.
• Drake caught up to them, breath ragged.
• “Move! We’re not safe yet”
• They disappeared into the alley.
• *****
• Fists pounded the priest’s door. Mayor Vic did not wait for permission.
• “Who the hell is there?!” the priest barked, storming toward the door.
• “Hey, pal.” Mayor Vic smiled too wide his teeth too white. His eyes didn’t match the grin.
• “Let me in, huh?”
• The priest opened the door with a scoff and walked back to the couch.
• Vic stepped inside, gaze sweeping the room.
• “Nice place. That’s a real fat TV you got there, huh? Bet you used all those case donations on that baby.”
• The air cooled not from temperature, but tension.
• “You shouldn’t be here, Vic,” the priest snapped. “What do you want?”
• Vic sat, calm as a serpent.
• “Relax. I came to talk peacefully, of course.”
• “You are a criminal,” the priest spat. “You should be rotting in a cell.”
• Vic’s grin faltered. His tone dropped.
• “You failed, old man. But here is the deal….help me out, and I will give you something no one else can… power. You and me. Black Hollow. Partners.”
• “You really think I had work with the man who murdered his own wife?” the priest hissed. “I have your file, Vic. You will face justice.”
• Mayor Vic leaned in, eyes turning cold.
• “Who told you I killed her?” he said slowly. “Where is that file?” “I have your case file already Vic you will be put to justice.”
• “You don't know shit man-n.. I said where is that damn file?.”
• “You’ll never find it,” the priest shot back. “Get out of my house. You are done.”
• Vic’s jaw flexed. His fingers drummed the couch too rhythmically to be casual.Then he saw it: a baton resting by the fireplace.
• The priest’s eyes flicked to it,Vic noticed.
• The priest’s chest rose sharply. Sweat clung to his wrinkled face. His gaze flicked from the baton to Vic, who was already stepping forward, sleeves rolled, eyes fixed with cold purpose.
• “You should have kept your sermons quiet,” Vic said, his voice calm, but heavy with threat.
• The priest didn’t answer. He took one step toward the baton measured, cautious.
• Vic moved faster.
• A hard shove caught the priest off-balance. He stumbled sideways, coughing as his shoulder slammed against the frame of his book shelf. He grunted, braced himself, and turned sharply elbow jabbing.
• It caught Vic in the ribs.
• The mayor snarled and answered with a fist to the priest’s gut. The priest folded slightly but refused to fall. His breath came hard now. He grabbed Vic’s wrist, tried to twist it, old hands struggling for grip, but Vic’s strength was younger and ruthless.
• Vic yanked free and drove his knee up into the priest’s thigh. The older man staggered, tried to block, but another blow slammed across his face. Blood burst from his lip. His legs faltered.
• Still he struck back. A quick jab to Vic’s throat. Vic flinched and gagged.
• The priest moved again, slower now, body protesting with every shift. He reached for the baton it is just fingertips away.
• Vic kicked it aside.
• And then he grabbed the priest by the collar, dragging him upright.
• “I warned you pal,” Vic hissed.
• He headbutted the priest so hard. The man’s knees buckled.
• A fist cracked against the priest’s cheek. Another to the ribs. He grunted, body curling. His breathing grew shallow, face pale beneath the bruises. He tried to lift his hand just one more time….
• Vic seized it, twisted, then slammed the priest to the floor.
• He stood over him, chest rising with sharp breath, a smear of blood on his knuckles.
• You don't want me to rule Black Hollow….when you're alive huh? I will do that when you're dead.
• A final blow made him unconscious.
• Mayor Vic stood up cleaning his messy hand. He searched furiously for the case file. “Where the heck does he hid this file…” scattering books blocking his search. He smiled wickedly when he suddenly saw the file boldly written on it was “VICTOR KANE CASE”
• He grinned wickedly Eyes gleaming with political venom. As he brought out his Cigarette and lit it… a single puff filled the room. He lit the lighter once again but this time directing it to the file.
• He murmured breath caught. “No one must lay hand in this.” He dropped the fire on the window curtains. He watched as it caught fire.
• The priest struggled with life he was unable to stand up or escape.
• Mayor Vic’s smile stretched too wide, teeth too white, as he stepped out of the burning house, smoke curling behind him like a shadow. He didn’t look back. Just slammed the door shut hard like sealing a coffin.
• He picked up the walkie from his belt, thumb pressing the side with a small click. His breath was even. Steady.
• "Dispatch, this is Mayor Vic,” he said, voice calm like morning news. “We have got a fire breaking out near the east wing. Send units. Ambulance too. Possible injuries.”
• A long pause.
• “And one more thing,” he added, gaze turning cold as the air shifted. “Find Drake Marson. He is behind this. Arrest him immediately.”
• The static buzzed.
• A deputy’s voice came through. “Sir, Drake’s already been seen near the backwoods he escaped the hospital with the woman.”
• Vic’s face twitched, but the smile stayed locked in place.
• “Then you know what to do,” he said quietly. “Hunt him down. Make him pay.”