As spreads through Baylor City, Laric and his friends find themselves closer to danger than they ever intended when flames strike the school. What begins as confusion becomes a test of courage, instinct, and survival.
The bell had rung an hour ago, but Baylor City High hadn’t settled yet.
Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, uneven and tired, casting long reflections across polished tile floors. Most of the classrooms were dark now, doors shut, blinds drawn—but a handful still glowed, stubborn pockets of activity refusing to end the day.
Zanna Sinclair slipped her notebook into her backpack and glanced down the hallway.
Too quiet.
She didn’t know why the thought came, only that it did. The school always felt different after hours—larger somehow. As if the walls stretched once the students left, reclaiming space they normally surrendered.
“You ready?” Jessica asked, tugging her jacket tighter as she stepped out of the library.
Zanna nodded. “Yeah. I just need to drop this off.”
Joni locked the library door behind them, the click echoing farther than it should have. “Remind me again why we stayed late?”
“Because you volunteered,” Jessica said. “And because you didn’t want to go home yet.”
Joni rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.
They headed down the corridor toward the science wing. A janitor’s cart stood abandoned near the stairwell, a single mop bucket casting a crooked shadow across the floor.
“That’s weird,” Zanna murmured.
“What?” Allen asked, jogging up beside Laric. “You see a ghost or something?”
Zanna shook her head. “No. Just… never mind.”
Laric slowed his pace, eyes scanning ahead. “The chemistry lab lights are still on.”
“So?” Allen said. “Teachers stay late all the time.”
Laric didn’t answer right away. He felt it again—that subtle pressure he’d been noticing more often lately. Not fear. Not danger.
Just… imbalance.
“You okay?” Allen asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Laric said. “Just thinking.”
They reached the corner where the hallway narrowed, lockers giving way to lab doors and emergency eyewash stations. The smell hit them first—sharp, metallic, wrong.
Jessica frowned. “Do you smell that?”
Joni stopped short. “Yeah. Like burning plastic.”
At the far end of the corridor, a light flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then steadied.
“Probably nothing,” Allen said, though he had already stopped moving.
Laric didn’t take his eyes off the lab door.
“No,” he said.
They all looked at him.
Zanna’s voice came out thin. “No what?”
Laric exhaled slowly.
“Yes,” he said. “The school is on fire.”
The words weren’t loud.
They didn’t need to be.
The smell sharpened — heat now, unmistakable.
Zanna stopped short. Jessica barely avoided slamming into her.
“Mr. Harlan,” Zanna said quickly. “He may still be in there.”
Allen frowned. “How do you know?”
“He never leaves before six.”
Laric’s head snapped toward the lab door.
The name landed.
He closed his eyes — just long enough.
“Yes,” he said. “He’s still inside.”
Zanna grabbed his arm. “Laric—”
“He’s hurt.”
The fire alarm screamed to life.
___
Red lights strobed along the hallway, painting the walls in sharp flashes as doors slammed open down the corridor. Somewhere above them, sprinklers hissed, then failed.
“Get out of here,” Laric said. “Now.”
Allen didn’t move. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Go get help.” Laric snapped
Zanna hesitated, eyes locked on him.
“Laric—”
“Please,” he said, softer now. “Go.”
That did it.
Allen grabbed Zanna’s arm. “We’re coming back with help,” he said. “You hear me?”
Laric nodded once and turned before they could argue again.
Heat rolled down the corridor toward him — not flames yet, but close. The lab door was warm under his palm. Too warm.
Inside.
He pushed.
The door resisted, warped just enough to protest, then gave.
Smoke spilled out in a low, choking wave.
“Mr. Harlan!” Laric shouted.
No answer.
The room was in chaos — overturned stools, shattered glass, a sink still running, water pooling across the floor and steaming where it met heat. Flames licked along the far counter, climbing with quiet intent.
Laric moved through it without thinking, every sense narrowing to one point.
There.
Collapsed near the back wall.
Mr. Harlan lay on his side, one arm trapped beneath him, eyes open but unfocused. Blood streaked his temple.
“I’m here,” Laric said, dropping beside him. “Can you hear me?”
A weak groan.
Good. Alive.
Laric hooked an arm under the teacher’s shoulders and pulled. Heat flared across his skin — not burning, but insistent — a warning pressed into flesh that was never meant to stay this long.
He ignored it.
The fire surged behind them, fed by something chemical — eager now.
Laric dragged Mr. Harlan across the floor, the smoke pressed into his lungs, irritating rather than suffocating.
The door loomed ahead, distorted by heat.
Almost—
The ceiling cracked.
A beam splintered, crashing down behind them in a burst of sparks and flame.
Laric shoved forward, muscles screaming as he hauled the teacher through the doorway and into the hall.
They collapsed just outside the lab.
Sprinklers finally roared to life overhead, cold water slamming down in heavy sheets.
Boots thundered toward them.
“Over here!” someone shouted.
Hands grabbed Mr. Harlan. A stretcher appeared. Oxygen masks. Voices overlapping.
Laric rolled onto his back, chest heaving.
Through the blur of sirens and water, he felt it again — that same pressure from earlier.
Not here.
Gone.
Whatever had started this wasn’t lingering.
As medics rushed past him, Laric pushed himself up and slipped back down the hall, away from the lights, away from the questions.
By the time firefighters reached the lab, Laric was no longer there.
And no one noticed when the heat finally receded.
___
Across the street, above the wash of sirens and red lights, Antioch stood at the edge of the rooftop, hands folded behind his back.
Below them, Baylor City High burned — not wildly, not out of control — but enough to draw eyes. Enough to fracture calm.
Isis leaned against a rusted vent, the glow of the flames reflected faintly in her eyes. “They’ll call it another incident,” she said softly.
Antioch didn’t look at her. “They always do.”
Footsteps sounded behind them.
Colin stopped a few feet away. Smoke clung to him, not on his clothes, but beneath his skin — a heat that hadn’t cooled yet. His eyes were unfocused. Empty.
He said nothing.
Antioch turned at last.
He studied the boy the way one studies a tool after first use — not with pride, but assessment.
“Well done,” he said.
Colin’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond.
Antioch looked back toward the school as firefighters flooded the entrance.
“Phase one is complete,” he said. “You know what to do.”
Isis nodded.
Antioch’s expression didn’t change.
He stepped back from the ledge.
Below them, the sirens filled the street.
___
Sheriff Spriggs stood before a cluster of microphones, fire engines idling behind him as firefighters moved in and out of the building.
“At this time, we have no confirmed reports of students being inside the building when the fire began,” he said. “That information is still being verified.”
A reporter shouted, “Sheriff, is this connected to the other fires?”
“We don’t know,” Spriggs said. “But we are treating this as a potential arson case and are actively following up on a person of interest.”
“Is the community in danger?” another voice called.
Spriggs met the cameras evenly. “We are taking every necessary precaution.”
A hand shot up. “Sheriff, was this another arson linked to the fires across town? “
Spriggs exhaled slowly. “Let’s just say we treating this as part of an ongoing investigation.”
“So it is the same suspect?” another reporter pressed.
“Is this Colin Smothers—” someone called out.
Spriggs’ jaw tightened — just briefly.
“I won’t say anything without evidence,” he said. “But what I will say is this: Baylor City is not under siege.”
Murmurs spread.
“We are increasing patrols. We are coordinating with state fire investigators. And we are asking the public to remain calm.”
A reporter near the front spoke up. “Sheriff, people are scared.”
Spriggs nodded once. “I know. So am I.”
That quiet admission stilled the crowd.
“But fear is not the same as helplessness,” he continued. “The person responsible will be brought to justice.”
He nodded once. “That’s all for now. No further questions.”
And with that, he stepped away from the microphones.
