Burning Hearts

BURNING HEARTS

Copyright 2021 Susan Horsnell and Jane Hewitt

The right of Susan Horsnell and Jane Hewitt to be identified as the authors of this work has been asserted by them under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000

All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed, or otherwise made available by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon, or similar organizations), in any form (electronic, digital, optical or mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the author.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

****

The ground burned. Explosions-some large, some small continued at far too regular intervals.

The sun’s rays attempted to push their way through ash darkened clouds.

How much more were they expected to endure? The attack had continued for what seemed like hours.

When would humans get past the compulsion to kill each other?

How much longer would the majority suffer for the decisions of the few?

Billy picked his way over scorched earth, the heat causing the leather at his throat to burn into his skin. He could no longer feel the dangling metallic trinket gently licking at his chest.

He ignored the pain of fresh burns and the ache in his empty belly, searching for clues. Anything to show she had been here.

The house had been obliterated, like all others in the seaside neighborhood.

Only remnants of their happy life remained.

No more laughter hung in the air.

No more sounds from televisions could be heard through open windows.

The sun caught something ahead causing the rays to send a piercing light in his direction.

He continued picking his way over the ground, toward the shiny object. Ever alert to any other survivors who might threaten his mission.

When he reached the area where a bedroom had once been, he saw the locket. Her locket. Still shiny even though burned.

He was overcome with confusion. Pippy always wore the small, gold heart-shaped locked with her name engraved on one side.

Had the locket come loose when she attempted to escape the carnage?

A shiver ran down his spine. His hair stood on end.

Had Pippa been turned to ash in one of the explosions? He couldn’t bear to think about her being gone.

She was his love. They had been together for all of their lives. Life wouldn’t be worth living if she hadn’t survived.

No! He had to find her. She couldn’t be gone. He would not accept that he would never see her again. He picked up the locket, determined to take it back to his love.

On hearing a noise, he swung around, immediately going on guard. A man emerged from the rubble of the house next door; he had been one of their best friends, Noah.

Freezing in place, not willing to move even one hair, he watched.

Noah appeared dazed. His eyes glassy, unseeing. Arms stretched before him as he tripped and stumbled away from the remains of what had once been his home and into the street cluttered with debris.

Others joined him in the street. All equally dazed. Some searching, calling for loved ones. Others content to follow the white line which maybe led from the neighborhood. But what lay beyond?

Billy turned his attention back to the wreckage of the home. Where was Pippa? Where were John, Katie, little Elly?

Another blast sounded nearby, and Billy swung around in time to see a bright orange ball of fire surging skyward. Another fountain of water erupted, adding to the dozens of others. He couldn’t see how things would ever return to normal.

Continuing forward, he listened for anything which may threaten his existence, while continuing to scan the ground and keeping a hold on the locket.

Frustration built within. Where was everyone he knew and loved? One moment they had been sitting in the living room, the others laughing at some silly show on the television. The next, he was being flung through the air, his skin and hair on fire.

Billy had landed in the Meyers’ garden on the other side of the road, pain assaulting him. Nothing had been broken , at least he didn’t think it had, for which he was grateful.

He wanted to lie down and sleep. Dream of the happy life that was now gone, but he had to find Pippa. He gripped the locket tighter; a reminder of what he needed to do.

Whimpering reached his ears from under a pile of rubble-small pieces of bricks, concrete and tiles off to his left and he raced in the direction of the sound.

Excitement washed over him as he dug at the rubble and the top of a head appeared. It was her! She was alive. Frantically, he cleared the rest of the debris until she was able to leap from the confines. They danced around each other.

Yipping.

Yapping.

Licking noses.

His love was alive.

The locket fell from Billy’s mouth, he had found what was important.

Now to find their owners who would no doubt buy them both new collars-his with a metallic blue bone hanging from it, hers with another heart-shaped locket.