The Man in the Box (The Box book 1) Page 7

  Chapter Seven

  Borin is the first to move. He tries to step around me either in an attempt to block our escape or attack Cindy directly. Neither is going to happen, not if I can help it.

  The guy is bigger and heavier than I am and it makes me wish I’d been pitted against some of the bigger guys in Taekwondo occasionally, but there’s nothing to be done about it now. I move two steps to bring me face to face with him, knowing a direct bit of confrontation like this is going to set him on edge. I can only hope he swings at me rather than use some sort of crazy mind-melting magic.

  He swings. With his weight and strength fully behind the punch, I know if it lands, I’m out cold. But it also means all of his balance shifts forward, making it easy to duck under his arm and grab hold of his elbow. As I straighten from my dip, I push him forward to throw his balance completely off.

  Before he has a chance to right himself, I use our combined momentum to spin all of the way around and land a hard kick to the back of his knee. Not hard enough. He doesn’t go down as I hope and so my next kick lands lower than I expect. Worse, when I realize it won’t hit where I want, I end up pulling the kick and it strikes with less strength than I’m capable.

  Even though I know I should attack again while he’s still somewhat disoriented, my focus is pulled to Stewart. There’s no reason why I need to pay attention to him right now. He’s not an immediate threat, but my gut screams to watch out.

  The weird thing is he’s not paying attention to us, not really. His eyes are on the box in his hands while the fire reaches ever closer to engulf us all.

  Borin’s arm wraps around my chest and throw me at the barn wall. It’s far enough away the impact isn’t particularly painful; still, I feel the wall shift as I hit. The building weakens every second, and if we don’t get out, there’s no doubt the whole place is going to collapse on us.

  As Borin comes after me to finish what he started, she manages to laso the rope he used on us around him. It catches his neck, and when he rushes forward, he chokes himself.

  His eyes bulge both from the lack of air and from anger as he turns to Cindy. The second he does, my attention is back on Stewart. It’s as if my disgust from him touching the box earlier has increased to a point where if I don’t stop him, I’ll never forgive myself. I have no idea why, but he can’t hold it for one more second.

  When I see he’s already flicked the latch and lifting the lid, I snap forward. He notices me only as my foot flies up to knock the box out of his hands. It lands hard on the ground and I cringe as it teeters upside down with its lid wide open. If there’s another mini-man in there, there’s no way he would have survived the fall.

  Stewart’s and my eyes lock for half a second before he raises a hand as though to throw something at me. In the same moment, I fling myself to the ground and somersault, grabbing the box as I roll. I don’t know how quick Stewart will be with his magic, and I’m sure he’s going to use it against me since brute force seems to be more Borin’s specialty, so I keep moving and give him no chance for an easy target.

  The air is chokingly hot as I move several feet closer to the door. I glance back at him. He’s not looking at me. He’s staring at something on the ground, more or less where the box landed. I turn to the door and escape, but something about him draws my attention again. Another peek and he hasn’t moved. At all. It doesn’t even look like he’s blinked.

  I drag my eyes away from him and turn to Cindy for answers. She’s the same. And Borin. It’s like they’ve been frozen, mid-step, as they stare at the same spot. My instinct is to follow their gaze, but I manage to stop myself.

  The fire is getting worse. My lungs feel as though they’re about to collapse. I crouch in order to keep out of the worst of the heat. Why aren’t the others doing the same? I want to run, but there’s no way I’m going anywhere without Cindy. So, why isn’t she coming?

  “What’s happening?” Al asks. “Why’ve you stopped?”

  “No one’s moving.” Speaking comes with uncontrollable coughing.

  Al on the other hand doesn’t seem to have any trouble with the smoke. “Why?”

  “They’re staring at something,” I croak. The heat’s too much. “I don’t know what.”

  “Don’t look!”

  “Guessed that,” I say while forcing myself to gaze everywhere except where my eyes are drawn. “What do I do?”

  Everyone is still completely motionless. The fire is so close to Stewart, it’s starting to char the bottom of his pant legs. Bits of flaming pieces of old hay and boards crumble from the loft and fall around all of us, causing sparks to spread and the fire to grow. I duck instinctively as a piece comes within inches of hitting Stewart in the head.

  “Get out.”

  “Not without Cindy.”

  He sighs. “She’s not moving either I take it.”

  I answer with another coughing bout.

  “There must be some sort of spell capturing them. Probably something requiring the target to maintain eye contact with an object. Whatever you do, don’t get between the wizards and the object.”

  “An object?” I ask, with another glance around the room.

  This time when my eyes pass over the others I notice the keys on the table. Fire is already eating away at the table’s legs, and I’m betting the shiny metal is going to be extremely hot. Unfortunately, it’s also our only way of escape.

  “It probably came out of the box.”

  “What did?” I ask while distracted by the keys.

  “The object.” Another chunk of wood falls, the largest yet. The smash and spray of flames causes Al to pause for a second. When he speaks again, it’s in a rush. “You knocked the box to the ground, did you not? When it fell, it must have dropped out.”

  Through the portal. It makes sense.

  Another coughing fit. The heat makes my skin feel as though it’s going to shrivel and rip. There’s no more time.

  “You said to stop the spell I need to break their eye contact, right?”

  “Correct.”

  “Perfect.”

  I dash forward, grab the keys and instantly shove them and the box into my purse, which I also grab off the table. The heat’s done its number on it, turning the off white leather a dirty brown and making the metal clasp next to impossible to touch, but it’s better than holding the keys directly. Plus my cell’s in there. When I turn to face Borin and Cindy, I know there’s no way I can block the view of one but not the other. I’m going to have to make this quick.

  Something else catches my eye and at first I look away, thinking I’ve somehow gazed at the very item I’ve been trying to avoid. Little by little my brain processes what I’ve seen, and I realize it is the blue bag Stewart taunted me with, not whatever froze everyone. He must have dropped it along with the box.

  Above me something snaps and the entire roof on Stewart’s side of the barn succumbs to the fire and collapses. I have seconds before the rest falls, if I’m lucky. I dash forward, dip down to grab the bag and without any hesitation slam myself against Cindy, full force.

  All I can hope is whatever magic is on her doesn’t leave her prone to broken bones.

  The hit knocks her back and breaks the spell. Without waiting for her to regain her balance, I pull her toward the exit. A coughing fit slows her down enough I know we won’t be able to outrun Borin, who is also now free.

  I spin around, using the motion to force Cindy forward through the door and giving Borin no time to react to my next move. As he reaches to grab my shoulder, I kick. Low and hard. He doubles over in pain and I know it’s going to take him more than a second to recover.

  Without another glance at the two wizards, I follow Cindy outside to the amazingly cool fresh air.

  “Keys,” Cindy says between coughs with her hand stretched toward me.

  “I’ve got them,” I tell her while racing to the driver’s side of the car.

  “Great,” she says. “Give them to me.”

 
; There’s no time to argue, and there’s also no way I’m giving her the keys. After standing still in the heat and smoke I know she’s not going to have the reaction time and clear head needed to keep the vehicle going. Plus, with my adrenaline as high as it is, I need to be actively doing something to get us out of here.

  Without another word, I jump into the car and dig for the keys. If only I’d taken a smaller purse.

  “You said you had them,” she says once she’s in the car and realizes what I’m doing. “Where are they?”

  I ignore her and keep searching. I hear her slap down the lock on her side before she reaches across to do the same to mine.

  “Now would be good.”

  She cringes away from the window and a loud thump follows. I force myself not to look up and instead focus on the keys. There. I shove the right one into the ignition, missing a couple of times because of my shaking hands.

  Whoever attacks the car gets one last hit in as the engine turns over and I throw the vehicle into gear. As I squeal out of the driveway, the tires digging up dirt and grass as I go a little onto the lawn, I look back to see Borin holding a large piece of wood he must have been using against the window. Stewart walks calmly from the burning building and watches us with a smile on his lips.