"Ready?" I whispered.

Harry nodded nervously.

It was 12:18 AM. I assumed everyone was sleeping although I had no real idea about how anything happened in the main house since I was never allowed there.

Before waiting it out in his room, we had taken a few more steps to ensure that it would take as long as possible for anyone to get to the fire. Since there was an armed guard outside the TV room, we closed the double doors that led out of the room to the rest of the house and dragged the dresser from Harry's room in front of them. For the doors that led into the suite, the first set was guarded, but we closed the second set and pushed the kitchen table in front of them, stacking the chairs on it for good measure. We had debated for a while about whether to keep the kitchen window cracked open to allow maximum air flow to feed the fire. If we did that, the smell of smoke could potentially reach the guard standing outside faster. We decided that it would be enough to leave the window to my room open as we escaped.

We had also decided to pack my large suitcase with as many of our clothes as would fit, partly so we wouldn't have to go through the hassle of replacing everything if it burned, and partly to pass the time while we waited. I also made sure to pack the rest of the documents from the envelope that Clive had given me, even though Harry's birth certificate was missing in action. He had never seen his backpack after Theodore caught him the day I got shot, so it was clearly in Theodore's hands. Or possibly destroyed. I let Harry choose whatever he wanted to bring since I really couldn't have cared less about losing some of my clothes. I had moved around and gotten rid of things over the years but all of Harry's life was represented in this apartment.

Now, we moved silently to the kitchen to begin our task. Our movements were fast and efficient, thanks to our carefully organized plan. He poured out the bottle of nail polish remover, saturating all the paper and cardboard in the cabinets. Then he opened the rubbing alcohol bottle and did the same inside the cabinets on the other side of the stove. I had stashed a whole pound of paraffin wax in the oven earlier in the day, so I just set the cleaning cycle, which was typically about 800 degrees and would ignite the wax in no time. To make the best effort, I turned the stove top burners to high; the more heat the better.

Finally, we looked at each other and nodded. I took a lighter and lit every candle, and then opened the doors to every cabinet, and torched the paper inside. Then we hurried to my bedroom window, grabbed our bags and the baseball bat, just in case, and slipped out. Lastly, Harry yanked the large suitcase through the window and I slid the window closed to just a crack and then popped the screen back in place. We wanted to make sure to not leave any sign of our escape...until we could start screaming for help.

We rushed along the side of the house. As we passed the kitchen window, we both gasped in twisted delight. The whole corner of the kitchen was already engulfed in flames.

"It's working," I mouthed excitedly. Thank goodness it was a breezy night so the rustling of flying and dying leaves masked our exodus as we turned at the edge of the house and made our way along the fence that bordered the road. We crept silently until we were about twenty or thirty yards away from the house and the driveway, hidden from the yard lights and hopefully from approaching traffic. We huddled close to the ground behind a cluster of trees and waited while we watched the yellowish-red glow growing in the kitchen window. With every passing minute, my confidence grew that an emergency call would be made.

Barely five minutes passed before I heard shouting, but it was enough time for the kitchen to be consumed in flames. Harry and I looked at each other with hope and a bit of anxiety and then back at the house. Thirty seconds later, the back door guard came running around towards the front - to the exact spot along the fence where we had first realized we couldn't escape - all the while shouting, "Fire! Fire!!!" Then he apparently remembered the walkie strapped to his side. "Struthers! It's Davis! Where the fuck are you? The house is on fire!" He screamed. We heard the other voice responding but not what it was saying.

Soon, people began spewing from the stately front doors of the house, as well as a small door down to the side, dressed in pajamas, and robes, everyone shouting incoherently. It wasn't immediately clear

-+to us whether anyone had called 911 yet, but it was already obvious that they wouldn't be able to handle the fire on their own. A twinge of sadness struck me as the entire kitchen was now devoured in yellow, red, and orange. We sat low, breathing heavily with anticipation, knowing our rescue was imminent.

Then we saw Theodore. He strolled out of the house as if he was going for a casual walk. He wore dress pants, a button up shirt and a tie so he must not have gone to bed yet. It didn't surprise me that he was a workaholic in addition to being a control freak and an absolute psycho. He shouted for everyone to be quiet and they obeyed at once. "Is everyone accounted for?" He yelled. A rumble among the employees seemed to answer his question.

That was when I felt a violent wave of nausea. He seemed to have no concern whatsoever for mine or Harry's lives. Either that, or he knew we had gotten out. I started trembling and Harry wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close and rubbing his hands up and down my arms.

With Theodore's next move, I had my answer. While everyone kept their voices low, Theodore appeared to scan the breadth of the property as far as he could see in the dark. He was looking for us. He pulled a key from his pocket and opened a section of the fence along the driveway, a gate that had blended into the fence so well that I'd never noticed it. He let Davis out and then summoned the other guard, Struthers, and two of his other lackeys. All of them closed in around him as he gave them instructions. Without even hearing him, I saw his lips move and I knew exactly what he said.

"Kill them."

Harry and I shrank down further into the shrubbery. "Help will be here soon," I breathed. "If we have to run, run in a zigzag pattern and keep your head down. It's harder to hit a moving target." He shook his head in terror. "Harry, we have to do whatever it takes. Courage, Baby. Just get to a police officer, anyone in uniform. Anywhere there are witnesses!"

Theodore's four henchmen came back through the gate in a line heading straight toward us. Then they parted ways about fifteen yards in, Struthers heading towards the water, the two in the middle fanning out into the woods and Davis following the fence line. He would be on top of us in no time.

That's when I heard the sirens, distant but approaching fast. A small explosion rocked the back part of the house and everyone screamed in panic. It startled Davis momentarily, but he continued his advance.

The front gate was opened, allowing a flood of over half a dozen emergency vehicles to enter, two massive firetrucks followed by an ambulance, three police cars and then another firetruck. As far as I could tell, more vehicles were still climbing the hill towards us.

When the third firetruck pulled in, two of the other firefighters directed the driver to pull up alongside the fence closest to us, blocking our view of Theodore and the others. Davis stopped about five feet from us and an evil smile captured his face. "Well, hello there." His voice curled around us and was swept away with the wind, like the smoke billowing from the house. Just then, another explosion blew out half the windows in the apartment and the fire seemed to lurch forward. Davis startled again and Harry seized the opportunity to swing the baseball bat and catch him across the neck and shoulders, knocking him to the ground unconscious.

"Run!" He shouted and we bolted towards the driveway, freedom finally in our sight. But as we rounded the firetruck, Theodore's eyes landed on us and he drew his gun. Harry and I skidded to a halt and stood trembling, waiting for someone to notice what was unfolding.

"You two have caused enough trouble," he seethed. "Do not say a word or you're both dead." Then he yelled, "Chief Waters! Can I get some help?"

Shit, Clive had told us that the chief was also under Theodore's twisted influence. What were the chances the chief was going to believe that his good buddy here had been hiding a kid in his home for twenty years and had also taken his nanny prisoner?

"Blake, what the hell is going on over here?" Chief Waters said as he came to Theodore's side. The other officers surrounded us, hands on their hips, ready to draw their weapons if necessary. The seconds ticked by in agonizing cadence as we awaited either our vindication or prosecution.

Theodore gave me a chilling smile and said to the man next to him, "Chief Waters. It appears these two trespassers have started a fire on my property."

* * * * *

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