I quickened my pace.
The edge of the forest was fading behind me.
Before me, the first houses of the town were beginning to take shape.
The glow I had spotted from afar was becoming more and more intense.
A golden glow, almost comforting at first.
“The festival…” I repeated to myself to give myself courage.
The man from the woods had said it was a festival.
I had to hold onto that idea.
But the closer I approached, the more a detail struck me.
My vision was still blurred, exhausted by the blood loss and the walk.
Yet, I distinguished a shadow.
A silhouette on the dirt path that led to the entrance of the town.
It was an old woman.
She was moving forward slowly, with a heavy step, hunched over herself.
Before her, she was pushing a stroller.
She seemed calm.
She was coming from the direction of the festival.
I felt an immense relief.
A grandmother taking a nocturnal walk was the ultimate proof that everything was fine.
I approached her, lowering my weapon a bit so as not to scare her.
— Good evening, ma’am…
I threw out in a polite voice.
No answer.
The old woman continued her route, her gaze fixed straight ahead, completely ignoring my presence.
She continued to push her pram at a steady pace.
I frowned.
Passing next to her, out of simple curiosity, I glanced inside the stroller.
My heart skipped a beat.
Empty.
The stroller was completely empty.
No sheets, no toys, no baby.
Just a hollow and dark space.
I stopped dead in my tracks on the path, watching her walk away toward the woods.
— I must be hallucinating…
I shook my head, rubbing my tired eyes with the back of my bloodstained hand.
Yes, the amnesia and the shock must be playing tricks on me.
I turned back around and resumed my walk toward the town.
But with every step I took, the illusion of the festival crumbled.
The golden light changed shade.
It became orange.
Then red.
Crimson.
A suffocating heat began to hit my face, chasing away the coolness of the night.
And then, the noises arrived.
They were not laughter.
They were not songs of celebration.
They were screams.
Howls of pure terror that tore through the night air.
The sinister crackling of wood giving way under the heat.
The truth hit me head-on, chilling my blood.
It was not a festival.
It was a fire.
The entire city was in flames.
The stone and wood buildings were collapsing one after the other in an infernal racket.
The sky above the city was black with smoke, swept by millions of sparks.
The chaos was total.
I stood paralyzed at the entrance of the main street.
Where were the inhabitants?
Where was the new chief?
Suddenly, amid the roaring of the fire and the collapses, a specific sound pierced the tumult.
A sharp sound.
Heartbreaking.
Crying.
The crying of a child.
A tiny baby.
My instinct took over my fear.
I ran.
Ignoring the piercing pain in my fractured rib, I rushed toward a house from which the wails were coming.
Flames were beginning to lick the facade of this two-story building.
A crazy thought crossed my mind:
“That must be…
the old woman’s child!”
The empty stroller.
The amorphic grandmother.
Everything was connecting in my blurred mind.
I had to save this child.
Arriving in front of the house, I threw myself at the front door.
Closed.
Locked from the inside.
I tried to kick it down with my shoulder, but I was cruelly lacking strength.
My broken rib reminded me of its presence in a flash of pain.
I stepped back, looking for an alternative.
My eyes landed on the ground floor window.
I picked up a heavy stone from the ground.
With all my might, I threw it against the window pane.
Crash.
The glass flew into shards.
I slid my trembling hand inside, paying attention to the sharp debris, and I picked the lock of the window.
I opened it wide and entered the furnace.
The smoke immediately began to sting my eyes and burn my throat.
Inside, the crying was growing weaker.
The baby was running out of air.
— I’m coming!
I shouted, my voice muffled by the smoke.
I spotted the stairs at the back of the room.
I went upstairs, stepping on burning debris, my weapon clutched in my right hand.
I pushed open the door of the first bedroom.
And there…
What I saw wiped away the rest of the humanity I had left.