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Ring of Fire by TalesofSpike
 
Chapter 2:04
 
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SECTION 2 - HOUSE OF FIRE

Building a house of fire, baby
Buildin' it with our love
We are buildin' a house of fire
every time we touch
We are building this house
together, baby
Standing on solid ground
We are building a house of fire
that you can't tear down

(Alice Cooper, Album - Trash)



Chapter 2.04
Monday, May 13th, 2002

Lorne had settled in for the evening, or at least he thought it was the evening, locked in, as they were, they had no real way to tell. The others were all doing their own thing, whatever that happened to be. One of the kids had been making full use of the kitchen since their host's departure, taking it upon himself both to cook a meal for everyone that night and to sort out menus that made the best possible use of the supplies they had.

The couple had shut themselves in one of the rooms, and even when the food had been served, it had only prompted the male half of the partnership to come out long enough to take a couple of plates upstairs. No prizes for sociability heading in that direction.

A couple of the others had volunteered for washing up duty, seeing as they'd had dinner cooked for them, they said it was the least they could do. After that, everyone except Lorne had briefly headed off to their various rooms to get showered and see what they could find in the way of clothing. Now, they were back in the living room, lounging in front of the open fire to dry off their hair, rather than using precious electricity.

Most of the kids seemed to have no problem with making all their amenities last as long as possible. They seemed resigned that their showers should be the last, for at least the next few days. They agreed to stick to the menus that the kid had drawn up, knowing it would be more efficient to cook one communal meal than seven individual ones. They stayed in the main room, partly for company but also to save on lighting.

They resolved that tomorrow morning they would comb the cabin for tools to help them break free of their confinement, either through the metal shutters, or if necessary, through the wall. One of the kids was even game for trying to scale the inside of the chimney, once the fire had died down overnight. It would be a tight fit, but considering how scrawny some of the kids were, they might be able to make it.

Tonight, however was given over to winding down.

They had spent the last couple of days not knowing if they would live or die, and whilst their situation was still dire, it was a lot better than it had been. They were warm. They were clean. They had some drinks. They had music. They had rooms with actual beds to sleep in. Except for the whole shut-in deal they were better off than normal by a long shot.

In one of the cupboards they had found a stack of games, including Twister, and a semi-inebriated festival of contortions had ensued with Lorne spectating from his position at the piano stool. Trapped or no, there were some things he would not do. Besides, if he fell on one of those kids they'd snap like a twig. After about an hour or so, they had finally given up and a couple of the kids were now playing chess, while the other two were playing some form of two-person patience.

"So," one of the card players asked. "We know how we got roped in to this, but what's your story. I can't say I've seen many like you sleeping out downtown."

"I hang out with a bad crowd," Lorne replied.

"You trying to tell me you're part of some sort of gang?" the kid responded with a healthy scepticism.

"Might as well be. I've been threatened at gunpoint. Had my bar wrecked not once but three times. First time they drove a car into it. Then some acquaintances of an acquaintance of mine shot it up with SMG's. Last time, they just rolled in a lighted gas cylinder and blew the place to smithereens. That was when I gave up my listing in the Zagat's Guide. I get knocked out and tied up on a semi-regular basis, but kidnapping's a new one. unless you count that not entirely voluntary trip to another dimension when they made me visit mommy dearest."

"Sounds like you could do with some new friends." This was the female chess player.

"So I have even more people to get me into trouble?"

"So what was with that guy you were looking after before? Where's he?" she continued her questioning.

"Spike? I could say he's a friend of a friend but I don't think friendship covers whatever him and Angel have." Lorne took another sip of his drink and made a face. "Actually I don't think there is a word that could describe the pair of them."

"But he was a vampire, right?"

"No foolin' you, strudel."

"And that woman who was hurting him and the one with the camera? They were vampires, too?"

"Uh huh," Lorne confirmed.

"So what's up with that? Shouldn't they be on the same side? Or shouldn't they just kill each other? What's with all the chains and burns and stuff? I mean the way he was hitting all her buttons I'd have said ex in capital letters, but I couldn't work out whether they hated each other's guts or whether they were going to bone each other on the spot and then the way she carried him out, I mean it was her that did all that to him but she carried him out like, I don't know. Like she was going to look after him."

"Nobody said love made sense, dumpling."

"So you're saying they were in love. That's what passes for foreplay in vampire circles?"

"Were in love. Emphasis on the were . Blondie found himself someone else. That's what got the lady's panties in a bunch. All's fine with the world as long as the ex is miserable but as soon as he finds his soul-mate."

"Okay, so that whole torture scene was all just a variation on the whole 'Hell hath no fury' riff, but where is he? I mean he was locked up just as much as we were. More, even. So where is he now?"

"Wrong question, my petit four."

"What?"

"Where he is isn't half as important as who he is." A noise from one of the upstairs rooms distracted Lorne from answering further. "Can anybody else hear that?"

The other four in the room shook their heads, but Lorne still headed for the stairs at a run, only for the noise to stop before he could reach the upstairs landing.

"What's up?" The girl he'd been talking to moved to the bottom of the stairs to see what had prompted his hurried departure.

"A phone. I'm sure I heard a phone."

The kids all shook their heads. "Wishful thinking. None of us heard anything, and even those two would have made an appearance if a phone had rung."

Although he was far from convinced, Lorne let himself be talked back to his position at the piano and by the time he'd exhausted his repertoire of Tamla Motown classics he'd forgotten all about the noise he thought he'd heard.

 




 

"Hey, you guys. That woman said we had plenty of water, didn't she?" the male half of the couple called from the top of the stairs.

"Yeah. What's the problem?" one of the girls asked.

"Well, Donna was just having a bath and when she went to top it up all the pipes kind of rattled, then nothing came out."

"That selfish bitch!"

"What? It's not her fault. We were supposed to have plenty of water?"

"Yeah, but do you know how long we can run the lighting in this room on the electricity it takes to heat a bath of water, let alone top it up? Why do you think everybody else is sitting in one room? Why do you think we all had showers instead of baths?"

"She gets backaches. We thought a bath would loosen up her muscles a bit, okay?"

"Considering she's the reason we're all stuck here, I say she should just put up with a bit of backache, at least till we manage to get to where we have access to the generator."

"Kiddies," Lorne interrupted before the mudslinging could get any worse. "I think we're missing the point. Why would our gracious hostess want us to think we had plenty water when we haven't? I think it's time we started checking what's behind all the locked doors round here to see if there are any more toy surprises. In the meantime, if the water's only just run out upstairs then I suggest someone tries the taps in the kitchen. There should be a few more feet of pressure there. Fill all the pans, buckets, whatever else you can find to put it in that isn't going to make it undrinkable afterwards. When you've done that, take a jug or whatever you can find and empty all the toilet tanks. We're going to need that water for drinking never mind anything else. Anyone needs to go, use the bathroom in the furthest room. No one's sleeping there.

And tell your other half not to empty that tub when she gets out. It'll do for washing dishes if nothing else."

Lorne couldn't help but have a really bad feeling about this. It could just be an added layer of discomfort, but their jailers had to know that given time they would find a way out of the cabin. No, there was more to this than met the eye.

The two chess players headed for the kitchen. Lorne led the rest of the group back upstairs. There were at least three locked rooms up there.

"Okay, any of you guys any good with locks or are we looking at brute force?" Lorne asked as they came to the first locked door.

"I can have a go," the remaining girl replied. "Sometimes it's hard to find somewhere out of the rain," she explained as she headed for the room she had laid claim to. A few seconds later she returned with a small roll of cloth. She extracted a couple of small metal tools from the roll and proceeded to manipulate the lock in a manner that completely mystified the green demon.

After some minutes, even the pregnant girl made an appearance, but the door remained locked. Lorne sighed. "Maybe we should be looking for something to use as a battering ram. No offence, but you don't seem to be getting anywhere, sugar pie."

Without taking her eyes from the lock the girl replied. "Hang onto your britches, there. You shouldn't believe everything you see in films. This takes time. Now, shut up, so I can hear."

Another couple of minutes after that, she withdrew her tools from the keyhole and opened the door with a flourish.

The group looked curiously at what seemed to be just another bedroom. "Okay, you guys go through everything you can find here. Check all the drawers. Go through the pockets of any clothes that are in the wardrobe. If all the other bedrooms were left open there has to be a reason this one was locked. Come on, sweet thing, you've got another two locked doors to get open."

 




 

Lorne took a hefty swig of neat vodka. So far they had found two bedrooms. Apart from some bits and pieces of not particularly expensive jewellery there didn't seem to be any reason why these rooms were locked when others were left open. Lorne corrected himself. To most people the jewellery wouldn't be expensive, to these kids it probably represented a small fortune. The third room had proven to be a small office. A radio phone that had once provided communication with the outside world had been smashed.

The real goldmine was the cell phone he had found tossed in the back of a drawer. The only problem was that there was no charger with it, and the power indicator was showing just one bar. If he picked the wrong number to call, he could blow their only chance.

The phone book entries were no good either, with such cryptic entries as B, G & R; C & L; W (No way he was trying that one. It had way too many digits.); TGP(Now, that one looked familiar for some reason. Actually, wasn't that the number for Angel Investigations but, if he called it now, then there wouldn't be anyone there. Unless the hurried departure earlier was because. Hell, just call the number.

Lorne finished off his drink and called the number.

"Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless."

"Fred, honey. It's Lorne. I'm calling from a cell and the battery's nearly flat."

"Okay. Hang up now. I'll *69 and I'll try to get Angel, again. If I get through, I'll get him to call you back. Okay?"

"Sure, bye."

A couple of minutes later the cell phone rang again. "Angel?"

"Sorry, Lorne. It's just Fred. I tried getting hold of him, well, any of them, but they must all still have their phones switched off so they don't interfere with the helicopter's electronics and stuff."

"Any of who, and what helicopter?" Lorne asked.

"Angel, Gunn and that girl Buffy that used to be dead and her boyfriend and this other girl Willow from Sunnydale. They borrowed a helicopter. Buffy's boyfriend said he could find where they were keeping you. They've been gone hours now. I thought they might have got there by now. Actually, they really should be there. Look, I'm going to go now. Help's on its way. Get someone to call back when they get there."

Lorne cut the connection and heaved a sigh of relief. Help was on its way. If Fred was right they had to be here soon. The flight had only taken just over an hour on the way here. Even if they were in a slower machine, if they had been gone hours they had to be close.

Lorne concentrated as hard as he could on blocking out the sounds the kids were making, trying to focus instead on any sounds coming from outside. It could just be wishful thinking, but he was sure he could hear the sound of helicopter rotors in the distance.

"Everybodyyyyy! Shut up!" he yelled at the top of his voice.

All other sounds in the cabin stilled to nothing. It was unmistakably the sound of a helicopter's rotors. Unfortunately, Lorne was almost certain the noise was becoming fainter, rather than louder.

In the cellar, the clock reached zero.

 




 

"I'm telling you it's there," Spike insisted.

"And I'm telling you there's no way anybody could land there. The slope's too steep and there's too much tree cover," the pilot answered.

"Look, Spike. I think you've got turned around a bit. It's easily done." Angel tried to pacify the irate vampire. "You said yourself the place was the size of a small hotel and it was on a plateau half way up a cliff face. If there was anything like that round here we'd have found it by now."

"Balls to easily done. That peak was to the south-west, and that river down there was at the foot of the cliff."

"Then how come you've made us go up and down this stretch of river five times now and we ain't seen nothing?" Gunn asked, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender when the younger vampire gave him a glare that would cut glass. "Just saying."

"Look, we're going to have to head back now to that bit we saw near the fork in the ravine and land. There's nowhere to land anywhere nearer and we've only just got enough fuel to make it back there. We brought enough fuel to fill the tank back up. We can afford to poke around for another three quarters of an hour once we've refuelled before we have to go back. After that, there's nothing we can do except head for home. Okay?"

"Sure." Angel answered for all of them.

"It's there." Spike continued to assert, sounding like nothing so much as a petulant child.

"Spike," Willow tried to reason with the vampire. "Is there anything else you can remember?"

"I've told you, already."

"Spike, we would have seen it," the redhead asserted.

"Unless you can't. What if it's like Rack's place? Eh?" Spike saw the first crack in Willow's certainty. "You of all people should know things aren't always how they seem."

"Doesn't make no difference, unless we could see that place right this minute, we'd still have to turn back. You're going to have to go back to your seat," the helicopter's owner told Spike. The blond vamp had taken to standing bent over behind the pilots to get the best possible view of the terrain as they neared the area where the cabin was located (or so Spike kept insisting). Spike returned to his seat and belted himself in as the pilot banked into a turn. Buffy took his hand as he resumed his seat, squeezing it gently in a gesture of support.

The pilots exchanged looks with each other. Heaven knew they were getting paid a lot for this little midnight jaunt, and they'd known that Nabbit was eccentric. Okay, he was barking mad but he had enough money that he was called eccentric. So when he said he'd pay them ten times the normal rate if they took the charter no questions asked, they'd just figured he could afford it. Now, they were beginning to think that there wasn't enough money to make up for the bickering about invisible cabins that was coming from behind them.
 
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