Evan Mallory

I held my multi-tool like a charm that could fend off fire. Just before dawn the footsteps stopped. Silence settled so suddenly my ears rang. Then something pressed against the tent wall directly over my heart. A hard, irregular shape, smaller than a fist yet impossibly hot. Nylon sizzled. I jerked away, stuffing my sleeping bag into the corner.

I held my multi-tool like a charm that could fend off fire. Just before dawn the footsteps stopped. Silence settled so suddenly my ears rang. Then something pressed against the tent wall directly over my heart. A hard, irregular shape, smaller than a fist yet impossibly hot. Nylon sizzled. I jerked away, stuffing my sleeping bag into the corner.

The object slid down the outside and thumped to the ground with a sound like wet ash falling. Through the thin fabric a faint red glow pulsed. I forced myself to unzip the door. Outside lay a child's sneaker, or what remained of one, canvas mostly burned away, rubber warped and cracked. The toe melted into a bleak grin. Inside the blackened sole, numbers blistered through the char.

The object slid down the outside and thumped to the ground with a sound like wet ash falling. Through the thin fabric a faint red glow pulsed. I forced myself to unzip the door. Outside lay a child's sneaker, or what remained of one, canvas mostly burned away, rubber warped and cracked. The toe melted into a bleak grin. Inside the blackened sole, numbers blistered through the char.

One-nine-eight-six. As I stared, a single ember flared in the hollow toe, then winked out, leaving the shoe cold and silent. The sun crested the ridge, but Deadman's Draw stayed dim, as if light itself feared to linger. I packed in minutes, every motion punctuated by the thought hammering in my skull. The fire was following me, and it had just shown me the year it first learned my name.

One-nine-eight-six. As I stared, a single ember flared in the hollow toe, then winked out, leaving the shoe cold and silent. The sun crested the ridge, but Deadman's Draw stayed dim, as if light itself feared to linger. I packed in minutes, every motion punctuated by the thought hammering in my skull. The fire was following me, and it had just shown me the year it first learned my name.

I ran until my lungs tasted like copper, and the heat behind me faded to the faint rustle of cooling ash. At a bend in the hollow the trees gave way to a rutted service road, slick with last night's rain. Dawn had not truly broken, only a dim pewter glow seeped through the clouds, but steam already curled from the gravel in lazy spirals.

I ran until my lungs tasted like copper, and the heat behind me faded to the faint rustle of cooling ash. At a bend in the hollow the trees gave way to a rutted service road, slick with last night's rain. Dawn had not truly broken, only a dim pewter glow seeped through the clouds, but steam already curled from the gravel in lazy spirals.

The farther I hiked, the more the air smelled of wet cinders and something sweeter, like pine pitch boiling on a stove. An hour later I saw it, a farmhouse crouched at the road's end, nothing left but black ribs of framing and a stubborn stone chimney that leaked grey vapour. The porch roof had collapsed.

The farther I hiked, the more the air smelled of wet cinders and something sweeter, like pine pitch boiling on a stove. An hour later I saw it, a farmhouse crouched at the road's end, nothing left but black ribs of framing and a stubborn stone chimney that leaked grey vapour. The porch roof had collapsed.

charred rafters lay like snapped wings across the stoop heat still bled from the wreckage shimmering in waves that bent the world behind it out of shape i wanted to skirt the place entirely but my legs buckled at the sight of a black and white cruiser nosed into the weeds county emblem flaking from the door emergency lights cold i staggered closer

charred rafters lay like snapped wings across the stoop heat still bled from the wreckage shimmering in waves that bent the world behind it out of shape i wanted to skirt the place entirely but my legs buckled at the sight of a black and white cruiser nosed into the weeds county emblem flaking from the door emergency lights cold i staggered closer

With a hiss, the driver's window rolled down, and a woman in a tan uniform leaned out, exhaustion etched in the creases around her eyes. "'You all right, sir?' Her badge read Riddle. The name fit the morning. Words tangled in my throat, but I managed. "'Something's after me. It's... it's on fire, and it walks.'

With a hiss, the driver's window rolled down, and a woman in a tan uniform leaned out, exhaustion etched in the creases around her eyes. "'You all right, sir?' Her badge read Riddle. The name fit the morning. Words tangled in my throat, but I managed. "'Something's after me. It's... it's on fire, and it walks.'

Sheriff Ada Riddle studied me for a heartbeat too long, then popped the passenger door." Get in. We'll talk where there's water between us and the ruins. The vinyl seat scorched my palms with residual heat, too hot for fabric untouched by flame. We rolled forward thirty yards and stopped beside a rusted stock trough half full of rainwater. Steam coiled from the hood where my gloves had landed.

Sheriff Ada Riddle studied me for a heartbeat too long, then popped the passenger door." Get in. We'll talk where there's water between us and the ruins. The vinyl seat scorched my palms with residual heat, too hot for fabric untouched by flame. We rolled forward thirty yards and stopped beside a rusted stock trough half full of rainwater. Steam coiled from the hood where my gloves had landed.

House went up four nights ago, she said, watching the ruins in her side mirror. Neighbors smelled burning bacon at 3 a.m. and fire brigade found the family huddled near that back door. Father, mother, teenage boy, no accelerant, no wiring fault, just combustion. Her gaze flicked to the blistered streak across my pack. You saw someone. Saw him, heard him. He followed me down Devil's Ladder.

House went up four nights ago, she said, watching the ruins in her side mirror. Neighbors smelled burning bacon at 3 a.m. and fire brigade found the family huddled near that back door. Father, mother, teenage boy, no accelerant, no wiring fault, just combustion. Her gaze flicked to the blistered streak across my pack. You saw someone. Saw him, heard him. He followed me down Devil's Ladder.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. I was 12 that year. Three hikers burned to death in a cabin off Green Cove Road. Volunteer rescue found only footprints burned into the floor. Case went cold. Folks blame a vagrant who died in his own chimney fire that winter. Swear his spirit brands anyone intruding on these ridges. She laughed once, brittle. I never put stock in ghost stories until this week.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. I was 12 that year. Three hikers burned to death in a cabin off Green Cove Road. Volunteer rescue found only footprints burned into the floor. Case went cold. Folks blame a vagrant who died in his own chimney fire that winter. Swear his spirit brands anyone intruding on these ridges. She laughed once, brittle. I never put stock in ghost stories until this week.