Spark
Page 27
CHAPTER 11
Following a fire truck was harder than he expected. Gabriel couldn’t blow through red lights, and people sure as hell weren’t pulling over to give him the right of way. Once, he thought he’d lost the truck, but then he heard the wail of a siren and caught a flash of lights through the trees. Two turns and he found them.
He parked half a mile down the road, part of a line of cars along the curb. He cracked the window and sat for a minute.
He’d worried this might be a false alarm, like a sparking outlet or a cat in a tree or some crap like that.
But something was burning he could feel fire calling him even from here.
Come play.
He took a deep breath. In it, he tasted smoke.
Like his own community, the houses here were widely spaced, with lots of trees to provide plenty of shade. People were already wandering down the street to gawk at the destruction. Better than TV.
Like he was in a position to judge.
He thought about walking down the street with everyone else. But there was a chance he might be recognized. Kids from school lived in this neighborhood, and he’d helped Michael with a few jobs over here. One of his favorite running trails ran right through the woods behind the houses.
He walked up a driveway nonchalantly, like he was going to head up the front walk. No cars sat in front of the garage, and the drapes were all drawn, so he walked right past the front door, around the corner, and into the woods.
The trees here weren’t quite as dense as behind his own house, but the sun had set and his clothes were dark. He slipped between the trunks, following the call of his element until his eyes could take over.
Gabriel stopped short at the tree line. Smoke poured through every window of the two-story home. Fire blazed through what was left of the roof. Smoke detectors were definitely working they screeched into the darkness and gave Gabriel a shot of adrenaline he so didn’t need.
Firefighters had smashed most of the windows on the first level, but they were working toward the back. Gabriel felt the flames cheer at the presence of more oxygen. Radios crackled with static and commands. People were yelling incoherently in the front yard. He could barely make out the words over those damned smoke detectors. Flashover . . . stairs unstable . . . pull out . . .
Then a woman screamed in the front yard, a sound full of anguish that twisted something in his chest. He’d heard a sound like that once.
Gabriel had to put a hand against a tree. He shouldn’t have come here.
Come play.
Smoke was everywhere. He clenched his eyes shut. It felt like he couldn’t breathe again.
The fire thought it was a game. A sick, twisted, cruel game of destruction.
Come. Play.
The worst part was that he wanted to.
“You all right?”
The voice spoke from his shoulder. Gabriel almost came out of his frigging skin. He actually staggered into the tree before his heart would slow down enough to let him talk.
“Hunter,” he choked.
“Yeah?”
Gabriel got it together and pushed off the tree to punch him in the chest. “What the hell is wrong with you? Jesus.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
His heart still wasn’t too sure about that. “What are you doing here? Go home.”
Hunter shrugged and looked past him at the house. “I followed you. What are you doing here?”
He’d followed him?
“Dude, I’m not playing.” Gabriel stepped close and pointed up the street. “Get out of here.”
Hunter didn’t move. “You want to go in, don’t you?”
Yes.
Gabriel sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Go home, Hunter.”
“Did you hear them? The firemen have been ordered out.
There’s still someone inside, but there was something called a flashover. Do you know what that means?”
A flashover meant the fire had gotten too hot, and with nowhere else for that heat to go, the interior of the house was being consumed. The heat would be enough to kill anyone before the fire even got to them. No wonder they weren’t hitting the house with hose trucks nothing to do now but let it burn to the ground.
Someone inside.
Gabriel bit the inside of his cheek. “Yeah. It’s bad.”
From the front yard, that woman screamed again. His heart kicked.
“What if they’re still alive?” said Hunter. His breathing sounded quick.
“What if they are?” Gabriel snapped. “You think thirty firemen are just going to let me walk in the front door? Do you have any idea how hot it must be inside that house?”
“Look.” Hunter pointed at an ambulance parked on the grass along the side of the house.
Gabriel looked. A fireman was on a stretcher, not moving.
Someone held one of those breathing bags over his face. Other people were doing . . . something. Fast and rapid and almost panicked. He had no idea.
Hunter grabbed his arm and shook him. “No, there. His gear is lying in the grass.” He started untying one of the twine brace-lets at his wrist. “Take this. Tie it against your skin ”
“Dude, I don’t know what you think I’m going to ”
Hunter jerked his head up. “Don’t you want to help?”
Gabriel stared back at him. He gritted his teeth and didn’t say anything.
He hadn’t been able to help his parents.
That thought tightened his throat, and it took him three tries to speak. “They might be dead already.”
Following a fire truck was harder than he expected. Gabriel couldn’t blow through red lights, and people sure as hell weren’t pulling over to give him the right of way. Once, he thought he’d lost the truck, but then he heard the wail of a siren and caught a flash of lights through the trees. Two turns and he found them.
He parked half a mile down the road, part of a line of cars along the curb. He cracked the window and sat for a minute.
He’d worried this might be a false alarm, like a sparking outlet or a cat in a tree or some crap like that.
But something was burning he could feel fire calling him even from here.
Come play.
He took a deep breath. In it, he tasted smoke.
Like his own community, the houses here were widely spaced, with lots of trees to provide plenty of shade. People were already wandering down the street to gawk at the destruction. Better than TV.
Like he was in a position to judge.
He thought about walking down the street with everyone else. But there was a chance he might be recognized. Kids from school lived in this neighborhood, and he’d helped Michael with a few jobs over here. One of his favorite running trails ran right through the woods behind the houses.
He walked up a driveway nonchalantly, like he was going to head up the front walk. No cars sat in front of the garage, and the drapes were all drawn, so he walked right past the front door, around the corner, and into the woods.
The trees here weren’t quite as dense as behind his own house, but the sun had set and his clothes were dark. He slipped between the trunks, following the call of his element until his eyes could take over.
Gabriel stopped short at the tree line. Smoke poured through every window of the two-story home. Fire blazed through what was left of the roof. Smoke detectors were definitely working they screeched into the darkness and gave Gabriel a shot of adrenaline he so didn’t need.
Firefighters had smashed most of the windows on the first level, but they were working toward the back. Gabriel felt the flames cheer at the presence of more oxygen. Radios crackled with static and commands. People were yelling incoherently in the front yard. He could barely make out the words over those damned smoke detectors. Flashover . . . stairs unstable . . . pull out . . .
Then a woman screamed in the front yard, a sound full of anguish that twisted something in his chest. He’d heard a sound like that once.
Gabriel had to put a hand against a tree. He shouldn’t have come here.
Come play.
Smoke was everywhere. He clenched his eyes shut. It felt like he couldn’t breathe again.
The fire thought it was a game. A sick, twisted, cruel game of destruction.
Come. Play.
The worst part was that he wanted to.
“You all right?”
The voice spoke from his shoulder. Gabriel almost came out of his frigging skin. He actually staggered into the tree before his heart would slow down enough to let him talk.
“Hunter,” he choked.
“Yeah?”
Gabriel got it together and pushed off the tree to punch him in the chest. “What the hell is wrong with you? Jesus.”
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
His heart still wasn’t too sure about that. “What are you doing here? Go home.”
Hunter shrugged and looked past him at the house. “I followed you. What are you doing here?”
He’d followed him?
“Dude, I’m not playing.” Gabriel stepped close and pointed up the street. “Get out of here.”
Hunter didn’t move. “You want to go in, don’t you?”
Yes.
Gabriel sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Go home, Hunter.”
“Did you hear them? The firemen have been ordered out.
There’s still someone inside, but there was something called a flashover. Do you know what that means?”
A flashover meant the fire had gotten too hot, and with nowhere else for that heat to go, the interior of the house was being consumed. The heat would be enough to kill anyone before the fire even got to them. No wonder they weren’t hitting the house with hose trucks nothing to do now but let it burn to the ground.
Someone inside.
Gabriel bit the inside of his cheek. “Yeah. It’s bad.”
From the front yard, that woman screamed again. His heart kicked.
“What if they’re still alive?” said Hunter. His breathing sounded quick.
“What if they are?” Gabriel snapped. “You think thirty firemen are just going to let me walk in the front door? Do you have any idea how hot it must be inside that house?”
“Look.” Hunter pointed at an ambulance parked on the grass along the side of the house.
Gabriel looked. A fireman was on a stretcher, not moving.
Someone held one of those breathing bags over his face. Other people were doing . . . something. Fast and rapid and almost panicked. He had no idea.
Hunter grabbed his arm and shook him. “No, there. His gear is lying in the grass.” He started untying one of the twine brace-lets at his wrist. “Take this. Tie it against your skin ”
“Dude, I don’t know what you think I’m going to ”
Hunter jerked his head up. “Don’t you want to help?”
Gabriel stared back at him. He gritted his teeth and didn’t say anything.
He hadn’t been able to help his parents.
That thought tightened his throat, and it took him three tries to speak. “They might be dead already.”
