Chapter 17 - Ash and Blood
The world tasted like plaster dust, sulfur, and blood.
Emily opened her eyes to a hellscape of flames. The roof of the master bedroom had collapsed partially, beams burning with hungry, crackling fury. Her ears were ringing with a high-pitched whine that drowned out all sound.
Pain screamed through her left shoulder. A heavy piece of timber pinned her legs, the heat radiating through her jeans.
"Get up, Emily!" a voice inside her head roared—her father’s voice, the ruthless oil tycoon who had built an empire from the red dirt of Texas. *"A Hayes does not die in the dirt!"*
Adrenaline flooded her bloodstream, muting the pain. Emily dug her bloody fingernails into the charred floorboards, using every ounce of her strength to shove the burning beam off her thighs. She screamed, the agonizing friction tearing skin, but she dragged herself free.
She crawled toward the shattered opening where the bay window had once been.
Thick smoke poured into the night sky. Down in the courtyard, the scene was pure chaos. Fire trucks could already be heard in the distance, sirens wailing their mournful song through the San Francisco hills.
On the driveway, two figures were wrestling violently in the grass.
Sarah had tackled Vanessa.
The investigative journalist was fighting like a lioness, pinning Vanessa’s wrists into the soil, but Vanessa was younger, faster, and driven by feral greed. Vanessa reached into her trench coat, pulling a snub-nosed revolver from her pocket, pressing it against Sarah’s ribs.
"Sarah, look out!" Emily croaked, her throat raw from smoke inhalation.
Emily reached down to her hip. Miraculously, her Glock was still wedged into her waistband. She drew it, her hands trembling violently, vision blurred by smoke.
Down below, Vanessa cocked the hammer of her gun, a maniacal grin spreading across her soot-stained face. "You should have stayed in the press corps, Sarah!"
Emily didn't hesitate. She didn't think about the ten years of friendship, the shared dorm rooms, or the bridesmaid dress Vanessa had worn on the cliff.
Emily leveled the Glock and pulled the trigger.
*BANG.*
The shot echoed off the burning facade of the mansion.
Down in the courtyard, Vanessa’s shoulder jerked backward violently. She dropped the revolver, collapsing onto the grass with a shriek of agony, clutching her shattered collarbone.
Sarah scrambled backward, snatching the dropped weapon and kicking it away.
Emily collapsed against the windowsill, her lungs heaving, watching Sarah pin Vanessa to the earth with a knee to the spine.
Sirens flooded the courtyard. Flashing red and blue lights illuminated the burning ruins of the Hayes estate.
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Emily closed her eyes, letting her forehead rest against the cold stone sill. Vanessa was captured. The mole was neutralized. But as she thought of Julian’s smug smile streaming from thirty-five thousand feet, she knew this war had barely begun.
***
