Bethany’s breath caught in her throat – fire, the one thing that made her tremble above all others. An irrational fear, no doubt, but a heart-gripping fear nonetheless. She stifled a sob as she heard the front door slam and the lock click.

Trapped?

Bethany peeped out of her cramped hiding place.

She could feel the heat radiating in nauseating waves. Paralyzed by fear, all she could do was watch in agony as black smoke bellowed into the kitchen, edged by yellow flames. And then the world began to fade, and the last thing Bethany heard was a strange, musical voice.

*

Emerging from inky blackness, Bethany stirred and a tremendous pain blossomed behind her eyes, in an unbelievable explosion of color and sensation as the world came flooding back.

Opening her eyes, and the first thing she saw was the fire. She sat bolt upright, about to scream, but a hand clamped itself over her mouth.

“Be quiet. Do not scream,” said the musical voice. “We are among the few survivors.”