Beatty & The Beast

THIRTY-THREE: Where Beauty Loses the Beast

*Banner: Beauty & The Beast cover art by Mercer Mayer

With a furious cry, Keefe threw his phone across Murray's old clunker truck.

The cop didn't believe him.

As he sped across town toward the barn, he put in a call that Benny Wolf Fang was possibly setting the old barn on fire with a girl trapped inside.

The cop on the phone – the only one on duty at the station – thought it was a prank call. As far as he knew, Benny Wolf Fang was still out in Marmontel and had yet to return to Villeneuve, so he couldn't possibly be setting the old barn on fire. Nice try though, kid.

Apparently, this cop had been living under a rock the last few days.

No matter what Keefe said, the cop only got more and more irate with him, reprimanding him for pranking an officer of the law. That was when Keefe threw the phone across the car.

Then he reached over and grabbed it to call the only adults he could trust anymore. Luckily, Mrs. Featherstone answered on the first ring.

After 911 and the paramedics were called, Whistlebeck was calling the Villeneuve police station.

Suddenly the sheepish cop was second-guessing that whole prank idea.

~*~

The smoke was overpowering, filling the crackling shell of the barn with burning clouds of ash.

Every breath she took scorched her throat and the coughs were painful. Her oxygen depleting, the heat surrounding her like a predator, everything spinning, she feared any move she made would send her stumbling into the mouth of the hungry flames.

"Nothing can beat you."

She made it to the back door.

The wall to the right of it was engulfed, but the flames had yet to reach the doorway. Somehow, she managed to pull herself from her hands and knees to her feet, leaning against the door as she did so. She positioned herself to push against it.

Across the barn, the front wall gave an ominous groan and a series of cracks. It folded in on itself, sinking halfway down. Pieces of the rotted roof began to fall.

Andie pulled herself from the door and slammed her shoulder into it, pushing with all her delirious might.

It didn't move.

"No," she gasped, coughing through the smoke. She couldn't see anymore, her burning eyes were blinded by the heat and ash.

"Come on," she threw her weight against the door again.

More of the roof caved in, toppling down the two stories to go smashing into the floor. The debris caught a few flames on its way down. The front wall crumbled further, pulling more of the roof with it. The side walls wailed in protest.

Andie slammed herself into the door repeatedly, pushing and shoving and screaming and coughing. The door moved with her motions, made a few promising splintering noises, but still had not opened. Whatever boards that had been put up on the other side were keeping to their duty stubbornly.

Andie rested her head against the wood, exhausted. She knew she was losing consciousness, she knew she only had a few more moments before the smoke would make her pass out and eventually suffocate her if the fire didn't get her first.

It would only take seconds for the fire to move onto the doorway and her.

She had to get out, she had to get away, but time and strength were fading.