Ash & Flame: Season One by Wilson Geiger Page B

chest. He couldn’t believe it. He swallowed, his tongue dry. His hands fell limp to his side.
    “A-Amy?”
    “What?” Rachel’s voice carried from the kitchen.
    Brad barely heard it, his focus squarely on the woman. It couldn’t be her, could it? But it had to be.
    He put his hands up. “Amy…it’s me, Brad.”
    Amy’s eyes widened, and she turned and fled, the screen door flapping closed.
    Brad dashed through the laundry room, banging his elbow painfully on the corner of the dryer. He winced as he pushed through the screen door, the wooden frame slamming back against the wall. He leapt from the covered porch, barely avoiding a row of bushes in the back yard.
    Amy raced through the back yard, her bare feet slapping at the grass and tufts of ash. She ducked past a tree, and disappeared into the forest that ran southeast, towards Haven.
    “Amy!” Brad cried out. He took off after her, jumping over a bush and sprinting into the trees.
    Rachel shouted something behind him, but Brad barely registered her voice, his focus squarely on his wife as she lost herself in the woods. He couldn’t lose her again, not when she was finally so close.
    What was she doing here?
    Branches clawed at Brad’s eyes, raked over his face, and scratched down his arms. He sprinted down a short decline, ash spraying from his wild footsteps.
    Amy scrambled over a fallen tree ahead, her fingers tearing dead bark loose. She slipped once and got back to her feet, coughing out a spray of dust. She looked back, her eyes frantic and wild, like a caged animal.
    She ran like she had no idea who he was, and the logical part of him wondered how she’d lived like this.
    “Honey, stop!”
    Brad’s shout rang into the air, but she didn’t stop. Didn’t so much as pause, and the thought raced through his mind now, that there was something wrong with her, that maybe she had snapped.
    His fault. If he had found her in time, if he had just done something differently.
    No, I found her now. I can make this right .
    His legs wanted to give, but he pushed them forward. His chest heaved, his mouth wide open and dry. But Amy was closer now, her thin body only a couple of strides away. So close that he could see the freckles running down her neck.
    He reached out for her, his arm straining as the tips of his fingers brushed past her shirt. Amy glanced back over her shoulder, her mouth open. Her foot caught on something in the brush and she tumbled forward. She threw her arms out in front of her and rolled to a stop by a copse of thorns. She leaned forward, coughing, her chin covered in chalky ash.
    Amy pushed herself to her knees and started laughing.
    “A-Amy? Honey?” He crouched beside her and rested on his knees, wincing at the ache in his legs. It felt like he’d run for miles.
    He reached for her shoulder.
    “This is all your fault, you know,” Amy said. She sighed, and turned towards Brad. The laughing smile was gone. “You left me here, all alone.”
    Brad’s hand shook, his fingers hovering over her pale skin. “What? Amy, no, I—”
    “You did this to me.” Amy’s eyes flared. “You!”
    She shoved Brad with a growl, surprising him, and he toppled over onto his backside. Amy jumped on him, her legs straddling his torso. She scratched at his shirt, clawing at the buttons.
    She’d lost it out here, lost her mind, and Brad’s heart clutched in his chest. Because she was right. He’d done this to her.
    “Amy.” He grabbed her arms, struggling to push her off, and then her lips found his.
    She bit at him, her teeth yanking on his lip. She kissed him again, tenderly this time, and she leaned forward, pressing her body against his, her breath hot in his ear.
    “Amy…” Brad tried to push away, but she was so strong. So strong, and so…soft, and warm. And he needed her. He wrapped his arms around her. “I missed you so much.”
    Someone shouted for him, but they sounded so far away.
    Her fingers tugged his shirt free, her other hand