Arsonist's Lullaby-Hozier

1

Somehow I managed to let sleep carry me off the island, despite my excitement for my literal departure. That isn't to say I sleep well. My eyes flutter open every few minutes to watch the stars through the hole in the roof of our tent.

You don't get stars like this where I'm going.

A chill breaks its way into our tent, chilling my nose first. I wonder if Pan is having another nightmare. Hard to the touch, but not cold, the ground seems fine.

Push comes to shove, Felix lives near Pan. He'll wake the boy up at the first sign of frost.

Besides, if the island freezes over, it'll make for one exciting final day.

I lie back in the hammock, trying to get myself to fall back to sleep. It feels like the dead of night. After a few more minutes of tossing and turning I get up and head outside.

Night is still an odd time to experience the world around me. It's quiet, and dark, and cold.

Only, something feels off.

I can hear the cracking off wood in the distance; probably some rambunctious animals. The air is warm, and thick. The darkness still exists, but it's not as bad as I had assumed it would be.

When the noise in the forest gets louder, I assume it's Dominique. I unsheathe my dagger, stalking into the forest. If somehow I manage to accomplish my final goal tonight before I leave I'll be just peachy.

A few steps in, I notice him carrying twigs and leaves in his hand. When Dominique meets my eye, he drops them and sprints away. Wasting seconds isn't something I'm keen on doing, so I sprint off in his direction, twisting and turning into the deep woods of Neverland.

He trips, so I take the opportunity to tackle him, punching him in the face as hard as I can. My fist collides with his nose, and I notice the warm wet feeling of blood before the moonlight reveals its deep colour.

In the light, it looks black. Probably to match his soul.

He knocks me off him, but I still manage to keep hold of my dagger. I raise the sharp edge to his throat, the thin skin turning white at the touch.

"Kill me," he instructs. "Doesn't matter, I've done what I needed to do."

He backs up off me as I hold the blade steady, his hands raised in defense. That is, until they grab my arm, digging the blade into his throat. He pulls the dagger closer to himself than away, and I don't pul back.

"Go on," he says, "you can't stop me."

"Stop what?" I demand.

I lower the blade, slashing him in the thigh. As he crumbles to the ground, I follow him, ensuring the dagger is against his throat.

He smirks, the blood in his mouth dripping down his face. "You'll be the only one to survive. Even your little boyfriend will die, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

I eye him carefully.

"Oh yeah," he chuckles, cocking his head to the side, "I know you're a girl. You don't keep it a secret very well, not when he always comes and saves your life."

"Pan is not my boyfriend." I spit.

He cocks an eyebrow, before laughing. "Wow, I was talking about Johnny. I just thought you were a blind idiot, but you've got a thing for Pan? Now that's really messed up, and that's coming from a serial killer."

"What did you do to Johnny?" I slash him in his other thigh.

He winces. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"How about I bring you to Pan?" I ask. "That's worse than me killing you here, isn't it?"

I watch the fear flash through his eyes, but for only a second.

He shoves me backwards, before ripping my dagger from my hand and stabbing himself in the neck. His blood splatters across my face, and he roughly chokes on the air. It spirts out of the gaping he every few seconds, as his heart beat slowly comes to a stop.

I rip the blade out of neck, making blood pool down on top of me. His body rolls off of me.

"Pathetic." I spit. "You've lost."

He grins, blinking. "No, not when the lost boys will be no more." The words whistle their way through his throat, and I'm surprised he can even speak.

What does he mean by that?

Blood still pools down on to the ground, and his body shakes. His eyes begin to flutter, but as he stills they remain open. I leap on top of him, searching his clothing for anything. A canteen, a knife, some rope, matches.

Matches.

He was holding wood.

Dominique set the camp on fire.

I leave his dying body, as well as his things, choosing to sprint back to camp. The run is short, and sweet, but already half the tents are on fire.

Mine, Alex and Harry's tent, the clothing, the food, and the armoury.

I run straight into the food tent, slicing the fabric open where it isn't on fire. The buckets inside are all turned over, the water dumped on to the ground.

I leap back out, the tips of my cloak singeing in the heat.

The sound of the flames roar, and the lights are like strobe, flashing in my eyes. If I wasn't already panicking, now I'm panicking.

I dash towards Harry and Alex's tent, using my cloak as mitts to open the door. The flames aren't difficult to get out, but the smoke is blinding.

Alex is shaking Harry awake, as the flames dance upwards. I quickly yank down Robert and James, who probably are dizzy from all the smoke that rose up to their heights. Robert groggily opens his eyes, before helping me pull James out.

Their hammocks catch on fire, and I hold the sheet open for Alex and Harry, who come out coughing.

Rolling on the ground, I extinguish the flames, only the heat lingering on my body.

"What's did you do?" Alex demands, grabbing me by the shirt and lifting my feet off the ground.

"It was Dominique not me?"

"Where is he now?" Robert chimes in, wiping the dirt off his face.

"Dead, in the forest." I tell them.

James looks at me wide-eyed. "Again? And during a fire none the less?"

"I didn't kill him this time!" I argue. Samuel was an exception to my only rule: don't kill people.

Robert looks at us funny.

"Look, quit wasting time." Alex shouts. "Go get Pan."

He always does this. I look around, as the flames spread to the next two tents. Only two are left safe.

"We don't have time, it'll take a half an hour." I yell.

Alex nods, sprinting off into the tent next to his. The next to go is James, who Robert yells at then follows after, dashing into the flames.

I look to Harry, who is still out unconscious. If he has a pulse, I don't manage to find it, and he doesn't stir as I shake him.

Hot, heavy air surrounds us, and all I'm beginning to see aside from the red flames is the grey smoke. It circles around me, clogging the air.

I pull Harry on to the ground, away from the smoke. If he's alive, there he'll be able to breathe.

Alex's tent crashes on to the one next to it, which is immediately engulfed in flames. I run towards the tent, leaping in. I land on the ground, rolling out the fire.

Pulling boys down, boys I don't recognise and who I doubt recognise me. They shout and cry. The first few out escape relatively unharmed. The next one I pull down coughs roughly, as he crawls towards the exit.

I can't help him, there are others.

The top to hammocks catch a flame, and one boy screams, rolling out.

I don't have time to stamp out the fire that encases him.

The final boy's heavy body hits the ground with a great thump. He's already on fire, and he's not awake. I wrap my arm around him, quickly pulling him up and out of the tent.

James enters, helping up the boy who has managed to extinguish the flames on him, as he screams in agony. Pure pain, different than Lyle's. Lyle's was a short finality, an end to a horror. This, this is unending.

We enter the clearing, where Robert takes the boy out of my hands.

"Alex." He yells.

I turn around. If he's in that tent still, he has to be dead. You couldn't even run in it if you wanted to, and I'm not about to attempt to peel the flaming fabric off the ground in search of his body. Even if Harry would want to find the body. For all I know, Harry is a body too. Smoke has a funny way off choking you, and I can already feel how hard it is to breathe. It could be the air, or it could be the bodies falling around me.

The air is fuzzy, and all I can think about is destruction. Grey smoke and fire and blood and death.

"Everybody into the forest!" I scream, panic slicing through my words.

As Devin shoves past me, I yank him back. "We need your help."

"I'm getting Pan," he shouts, so I let go.

I watch him swiftly sprint into the forest. That kid may not be able to fight, but he certainly can run. At least he's finding a way to make himself useful, instead of hiding behind cowardice.

All the tents are in flames, when I head to the bench to help move Harry off the ground and into the forest. There it's less smoky.

Robert grabs his legs and I grab his head, moving him away.

James runs up to us, grabbing hold of Robert.

"The Med tent." He screams overtop of the noise.

Flames fill the small enclosure. It's already on fire, burning bright like the sun. There are people in there, the rest of the News. It's me, Johnny, Max and Thomas who are left, and the latter two are about to burn.

Robert drops Harry's feet, as I continue to pull him into the forest. The two of them can handle getting the two boys out, they won't need me. Not while I'm saving Harry's life.

"Get them!" I shout. "If Max isn't alive, I will kill you."

I mean it.

James runs in, as Robert shouts after him. "It's going to collapse."

I think he's right. It's overtaken, and the only tent left that's still standing. Who knows how many countless boys are buried under them, unable to escape the heat?

"Do you want to tell Harry his brother's dead?" James demands, sprinting in.

Robert sighs, sprinting in after them.

I drag Harry along the ground.

As soon as Robert enters, he's out again, swiftly yanking Max out of the way. I drop Harry, helping him move Max off into the forest.

Harry's far enough away, and Max is screaming as the fire dances up his legs. Robert drops him, and I extinguish the fire.

Robert's painful cry fills my ears, a deafening scream. "James."

I turn around.

The tent crackles under its own weight. The bones of the broken, braking itself from the inside out. Robert slices a whole in the side of the tent, his arm going ablaze as he does so.

A burnt hand reaches out, wrapping itself around Robert's. The tent crashes all around him, the boy hidden in a mountain of fire.

"No!" The wail escapes Robert's lips.

He's trying to pull James out from beneath the tent.

I sprint up to him, before grabbing a hold of Robert, trying to pull him away. He shoves me backwards, as he continues to pull on the boy. The flames dance up the thin sleeves of his cloak, but he doesn't move. He holds on to James for dear life.

I grab a hold of the arm, and yank out James.

A boy behind us drops water on him, and the sizzling flames begin to escape, before another boy dumps a final bucket.

There are no more boys with buckets. They must've grabbed the ones off the beach where we clean the clothes.

How will we put this fire out?

Robert pulls James up into him. Squeezing the boy, who is singed and charred. He looks to be all pieces and edges, from the destroyed cloak, to hair, to bright red blood pouring out of his head. Bashed in by the collapse of the flaming pole.

I look around for Thomas, but he is nowhere to be seen.

If he was going to get up from that coma, he certainly isn't now. His body won't even get out. Ashes in a field of ashes, indistinguishable from the remains of a structure that killed him.

The fire begins to dance its way up James' legs again, which I quickly put out. He's too close to the tent.

"If you want his body intact-"

"It's not a body." Robert screeches. He glares up at me, tears brimming his eyes. Almost enough to put out the fire that surrounds us. "I can fix him."

"We've got to move him. The flames-"

A deafening roar is followed by silence. I stand up, spinning around on my heels, before I spot him.

Pan, with his hands out, surrounding by the smoke of the tents, all of which are now on the ground in black heaps. Nothing can withstand fire's destruction.

That's when it rains.

Water pours as I stare Pan down. He looks at me, as the cries of pain continue around us. Screaming names and painful tears begin to be washed away by the rain, until it's his wet hair soaked against his wet head. He lowers his hands to his side, a shocked look on his face.

A bucket is in my hands and I'm brought back to the world. The rain is pouring down, and the water is quickly filling it.

I lower it down to Robert, squatting on the slippery mud.

He's cut open the last of James's shirt, and spoons the water on to his body.

"His pulse is faint," Robert cries, "but he's not breathing. He's not breathing."

I move my hands to James's chest, pumping them up and down on his body. "He's probably got smoke in his lungs."

"He's probably dead." Pan's voice rings out. "There's hope though. He's only freshly dead."

"Freshly dead?" Robert shouts.

"Charlie go help the others." Pan instructs, not even looking at me.

I nod, getting up. I turn around, looking at all the singed boys. Most of them are crying against the stinging water, most of them have superficial wounds.

A few scream from where they lie, surrounded by friends which hover over them.

A few bodies.

I run over to Max, who groans on the ground.

"You alright?" I ask, kneeling beside him.

He manages to pull himself up against a tree. "What's going on?"

"A fire." I tell him. "The whole camps gone."

"I'm alright?" He asks, before looking down at his legs. A chuckle escapes his lips. "Well, if I wasn't going to walk before, I'm definitely not going to walk now."

A smile flashes across my face, before turning back into a frown. His laughter becomes contagious, and as he laughs, I laugh more, before pulling him into a tight hug. He hugs me back.

"We're alright, you and I." He laughs.

I run my hands through his wet hair. "Yeah, we are."

"Alex!" I voice behind me screams.

I let go of Max, turning around.

Harry is alive.

"Go get him." Max says.

I smile at him, before his lips part. "Thomas didn't make it out, did he?"

He didn't. I shake my head at the kid. I can only bare to watch his expression fall for a few seconds before getting up, and kneeling beside Harry.

He shoves Devin off of him. "I don't need your help."

"Your lungs were full of smoke," Devin shouts. "If I didn't know CPR-"

"Then someone else could've done it." Harry's voice is stern.

He grabs my arm, pulling me closer to him. "What's going on?"

"There was a fire." I feel like I'm going to have to tell that to a lot of people.

"Where's Alex?" He asks, pushing up off the ground against me.

He takes a shaky step forward, before I hold on to him. "He was saving people."

"I don't care where he was Charlie," Harry shoves me off him, tears in his eyes. His face filled with rage. "Where is he now?"

I look towards the tent where he last was. Harry follows my eyes, and sprints towards it. His feet slip beneath him on the muddy ground, but he moves on, searching the rubble.

"Alex!" He cries.

He pull out a burnt body, and I can't tell if it's Alex's. It's black and red and swollen. Destroyed beyond recognition, but not destroyed. Ashes wouldn't be as unsettling then this corpse of burning flesh, reeking like the clothing tent. A smell that should never reach anyone's nose.

He clutches the body in his hands, crying. "Alex."

"Harry."

Alex's face is covered in soot, and everything that isn't burnt is coated in a thick layer of blood.

Harry drops the body, running up to Alex and pulling him into a hug, crying.

I step out of the remains of the destroyed tent. No use wasting my time on them when they are fine. Especially since the longer I'm around the more likely it is that Harry will ask me about Thomas.

I move around, searching for anyone who can use my help. I pass the body of a boy I only met once. I don't remember his name, but I remember seeing him and Devin together in the Med tent a few days ago.

That was the day the illness took a turn for the worse. It feels like so long ago.

I pass another boy, one I met during training. I punched him in the face after he beat up a little boy. I punched him before I even realised that the little boy was making fun of his dead friend. Before I realised the little boy deserved it.

He's dead too.

Everyone else seems to be recovering from their wounds.

The area is no longer filled with cool earthy tones. Black and red. The charred skin of a boy, black. The blood pouring out of another, red. The fire may no longer be here, but its colour still dances on the graves of the dead. An inescapable destruction.

I hear Robert let out a sob, and I run to him. "What's going on?"

Pan pulls me aside. "He's not waking up."

"Use magic then," I demand.

"I am," he tells me. "Magic can only heal, it can't bring back the dead."

I don't bother to ask him more. This is a question for later.

Robert holds James tightly against his body, as he cries.

"He's still breathing." Robert yells. "I can still feel his heart beating."

"Will his burns kill him?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "Most fire related deaths are caused by smoke inhalation."

"Then he'll be fine." I assure him.

Robert drops the body and begins to pump his chest, as tears escape his eyes. There's no use stopping him. The blood begins to stop pouring out of James's head, but Robert pays no mind to it. He'll pump until someone pulls him off the body, until someone destroys him. James may still have life tickling his skin, but what's left is being washed away by the rain.

The dry dirt is now a muddy mess, the blood and water turning it into an unrecognisable disaster. As I step forward, it feels like the ground is swallowing me up whole, and I'm sinking.

I look around at the boys here. Though most have at least damaged clothing, if not light burns on their hands, only four seem to not be breathing at all.

I wonder how many bodies are buried in the remains of what once was our home.

The sun illuminates our camp, and the rain lets up. What's done is done.

I can't believe I was hoping for something exciting on my last day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~