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31_days2012-02-27 04:09 am
insaneladybug.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2012-02-27 04:09 am
[February 27th] [Perry Mason] Candles and the Snow, 27
Title: Candles and the Snow, scene 27
Day/Theme: February 27th - Do not shine. Do not seek to shine. Burn.
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Hamilton Burger, Mignon Germaine
Rating: T/PG-13
Time Period: Present day
For the last three, I've woven a short, connecting story.
By Lucky_Ladybug
They were not sure why they needed to hurry out of the house, or if they even needed to. But Mignon had a very bad feeling about their staying. The man they had come to speak with was not home. And both that and the fact that the backdoor was wide open made her and Hamilton concerned.
“Are you going to call the police?” she asked. A clock in the house ticked the time faintly in the background.
“Yes, as soon as we’re outside,” he said. “If someone broke in, he might still be here in a closet or under a bed.” If Hamilton were alone he would probably start checking for the intruder right now. But he did not want to expose Mignon to any possible danger.
It was only as they neared the living room that the ominous ticking sound grew louder and even deadly. Hamilton stiffened. “That isn’t a clock,” he realized.
Mignon looked to him in shock. “Then it’s . . .”
Hamilton grabbed her wrist. “Come on!” He ran for the door, pulling her with him. She kept up with him, her heart beginning to race.
Had they stepped into a trap meant for the man who lived here? Or had it been set for them, either by that man or by his enemies? Surely he would not try to blow up his own house just to kill them. He would not have a reason to. But such things had probably happened sometime, somewhere.
They tore out the door and down the steps. Somehow Mignon sensed when the timer counted to zero. A certain feeling stabbed her in the heart. They were still too close. . . .
She threw herself at Hamilton as the blast echoed through their ears and sent them flying.
****
The crash stunned them both. Perhaps she had been unconscious; she was not sure of that. She slowly opened her eyes. Strands of hair were brushing against her face. She was sprawled half across Hamilton’s back and shoulders, where she had landed when she had tried so desperately to shield him from the worst of the blast. Behind them, the house was in flames.
“Hamilton,” she choked out, her voice raspy and pained. “Hamilton, wake up!” She shook him weakly, frantically, without a response. Rare tears pricked her eyes. “Please, Hamilton . . . don’t leave me too,” she pleaded.
Vertigo swept over her with a vengeance. She sank down, her senses slipping from her.
****
Hamilton could not say how long he had been knocked out. He groaned involuntarily as he forced his eyes open. He was facedown in the grass. The sounds and smells of wood on fire were nearby. Embers flew past now and then, narrowly missing him. And there was a weight on his back. A limp arm, clothed in black, was hanging to the side of his arm.
“Mignon?” he gasped. He rose up, reaching for her motionless body. “Mignon!” He pulled her to him, shielding her from the furious inferno. “What were you doing?!” he said in horror. “Trying to protect me?” There was no answer, but he could see that she was breathing.
Holding her close in his arms, he tried to stand. The grass could catch fire before long. He had to get her away.
He wobbled, his legs weak and his head throbbing. Somehow he managed to right himself. For several yards, he pulled Mignon with him across the property. Then, at the beginning of the concrete, his strength gave out. He crumpled to the driveway, Mignon still in his arms.
They would be found, surely. There were sirens in the distance now; the firefighters were coming. He could not make himself stand up. They would have to lie there and wait.
His vision dimmed. All he could see as he gazed into the sky were the flames climbing higher and higher as the mansion burned.
Day/Theme: February 27th - Do not shine. Do not seek to shine. Burn.
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Hamilton Burger, Mignon Germaine
Rating: T/PG-13
Time Period: Present day
For the last three, I've woven a short, connecting story.
They were not sure why they needed to hurry out of the house, or if they even needed to. But Mignon had a very bad feeling about their staying. The man they had come to speak with was not home. And both that and the fact that the backdoor was wide open made her and Hamilton concerned.
“Are you going to call the police?” she asked. A clock in the house ticked the time faintly in the background.
“Yes, as soon as we’re outside,” he said. “If someone broke in, he might still be here in a closet or under a bed.” If Hamilton were alone he would probably start checking for the intruder right now. But he did not want to expose Mignon to any possible danger.
It was only as they neared the living room that the ominous ticking sound grew louder and even deadly. Hamilton stiffened. “That isn’t a clock,” he realized.
Mignon looked to him in shock. “Then it’s . . .”
Hamilton grabbed her wrist. “Come on!” He ran for the door, pulling her with him. She kept up with him, her heart beginning to race.
Had they stepped into a trap meant for the man who lived here? Or had it been set for them, either by that man or by his enemies? Surely he would not try to blow up his own house just to kill them. He would not have a reason to. But such things had probably happened sometime, somewhere.
They tore out the door and down the steps. Somehow Mignon sensed when the timer counted to zero. A certain feeling stabbed her in the heart. They were still too close. . . .
She threw herself at Hamilton as the blast echoed through their ears and sent them flying.
The crash stunned them both. Perhaps she had been unconscious; she was not sure of that. She slowly opened her eyes. Strands of hair were brushing against her face. She was sprawled half across Hamilton’s back and shoulders, where she had landed when she had tried so desperately to shield him from the worst of the blast. Behind them, the house was in flames.
“Hamilton,” she choked out, her voice raspy and pained. “Hamilton, wake up!” She shook him weakly, frantically, without a response. Rare tears pricked her eyes. “Please, Hamilton . . . don’t leave me too,” she pleaded.
Vertigo swept over her with a vengeance. She sank down, her senses slipping from her.
Hamilton could not say how long he had been knocked out. He groaned involuntarily as he forced his eyes open. He was facedown in the grass. The sounds and smells of wood on fire were nearby. Embers flew past now and then, narrowly missing him. And there was a weight on his back. A limp arm, clothed in black, was hanging to the side of his arm.
“Mignon?” he gasped. He rose up, reaching for her motionless body. “Mignon!” He pulled her to him, shielding her from the furious inferno. “What were you doing?!” he said in horror. “Trying to protect me?” There was no answer, but he could see that she was breathing.
Holding her close in his arms, he tried to stand. The grass could catch fire before long. He had to get her away.
He wobbled, his legs weak and his head throbbing. Somehow he managed to right himself. For several yards, he pulled Mignon with him across the property. Then, at the beginning of the concrete, his strength gave out. He crumpled to the driveway, Mignon still in his arms.
They would be found, surely. There were sirens in the distance now; the firefighters were coming. He could not make himself stand up. They would have to lie there and wait.
His vision dimmed. All he could see as he gazed into the sky were the flames climbing higher and higher as the mansion burned.