Their Obsession (Four Mercenaries 2)

He ran in through the door, shocked by the level of heat in the hallway. The tiles weren’t on fire yet, but the living room was like a furnace about to consume everything in sight. Breathless, Clover ran the other way, hoping to reach the staircase through the kitchen. This place had also been an object of Pyro’s wrath. Cupboards had been emptied of tableware and food, with broken plates, glasses, and scattered cereal turned into an obstacle course, but he managed to pass in his thick-soled sneakers, thinking only of the man sleeping upstairs. If Clover couldn’t reach him on time, Drake would never wake up. He would never again offer one of his rare smiles to Clover.

He used to find the floating stairs so elegant and minimalistic, but now they looked like a trap, like a platform game where he had to jump from stone to stone over hot lava. Even that wouldn’t deter him. His mind was frantic with ideas of what he could do if this path became inaccessible on the way back. Leaving through the window could be an option, since there was a small slither of roof below Drake’s room. From there, if worse came to worst, Drake would fall only one story, and into grass.

Clover’s heart couldn’t have galloped any faster, chased by the flames and urged on by the need to protect Drake at all cost. What happened in Apollo’s torture chamber had left their relationship cracked, but Drake would have never hurt him if he wasn’t protecting him from something much worse. Drake loved him, and Clover would not desert him.

The smell of char and gasoline intensified with each passing moment, but nothing was burning in the second floor yet, so he ran straight through the open door of Drake’s room. It was a shock to see him sleeping in his favorite gray sheets, hair spread over the pillow, and despite the angry bruises and cuts, Clover found himself hesitating whether he should disturb Drake’s peace. But there was no time to waste.

He pulled back the comforter and forced Drake’s limp body into a sitting position.

“Come on, come on, it’s gonna be okay,” he muttered despite knowing Drake wouldn’t hear him. Maybe he was just psyching himself for what seemed like an impossible task, but didn’t people lift cars in desperate times? He could handle a a hundred and seventy-five-pound man.

He grabbed Drake under the arms and dragged him, walking backwards toward the door and calculating which route to take. The sounds of items crashing to the floor and the fire devouring everything in its wake made all the hairs on his body bristle. Every cell in his body screamed for him to drop Drake and leave through the bedroom window, but he would never do that. He would never abandon Drake, just like they wouldn’t abandon Boar, regardless of what Pyro believed in his drunken state.

He needed to stay calm if he was to get through the hell roaring downstairs. The smoke was getting thick in the air, and he coughed when the contaminated air stuck to his throat. If only Drake wasn’t so big, so heavy in comparison to Clover, they’d be outside already, but he trudged on despite the pain in his back and stomach muscles, dragging the limp weight along the open corridor.

“Help! Tank!” he yelled, because even if Tank couldn’t come, it wasn’t like Clover had anything to lose by yelling at this point.

Step after painful step, Clover carried Drake, barely able to breathe in the thickening smoke. His one advantage was that he knew the house by heart. If the fire hadn’t spread to the back door, he’d be able to go through there and drag Drake to safety in the grass. But as he started pulling him down the stairs, a closer look at the inferno below stifled the hope burning in Clover’s heart. The air trembled, and the choking fumes made Clover hold his breath as he helplessly tried to assess his situation.

When he leaned beyond the bannister, it became clear the flames were already licking the bottom steps. A hole opened where his heart was, but there was still a chance to go back to plan B.

But before he could have attempted to drag Drake back to the room, a cloud of white dust blew from behind the concrete wall below, stifling the fire and chasing the flames farther away from the stairs.

Clover had never felt so light before.

“Tank!”

Tank held the fire extinguisher as if it were the sword of a knight in shining armor. Clover could have cried with the relief of seeing him even if the ordeal wasn’t over yet, and the house was still on fire.

“Come down, I’ll take him!” Tank yelled, battling the flames with the white clouds coming out of the extinguisher.