CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

 

Roy smelled smoke.

He opened his eyes and sat up in bed. The smoke poured under the door. It had already filled half the room. It took a moment for the realization to sink in, but when it finally did, Roy leaped out of bed, screaming, “Fire!”

Frank grumbled from the next bunk over. “Shut up, Roy. I’m tryin’ to sleep.”

“The place is on fire!” Roy yelled, jerking him out of bed.

Frank staggered to his feet, ready to take a swing, but then he stopped. He went into a fit of coughing then swung his arms wildly.

“Fire!” Frank screamed. “We’re gonna die! Why didn’t you say something?”

“We ain’t gonna die,” Roy said. Seeing Frank hit the panic button made Roy calm down. If they were going to get out of this, someone had to take charge. Roy didn’t want to die. “Slow down, Frank. Take a deep breath. It’s okay. We’re gonna be just fine, but you gotta stay in control. We need to start by waking everyone else up.”

Frank started for the door. When he reached for the doorknob, Roy grabbed him and jerked him back. “Hold up,” Roy said. “You don’t know what’s on the other side. Feel the door before you open it.” Roy placed his palm against the wooden door. It felt cool to the touch.

Frank pressed his palm there too. “Is it okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Roy said.

Frank tugged the door open, and smoke billowed in with a vengeance. Both men started coughing again. Roy’s eyes stung from the smoke, and he felt tears building up. He waved his hands to clear the air and stepped into the hallway.

Fire climbed the wall down by the communal bathroom. Roy watched it in fascination for a second then turned the other way and started pounding his cast on doors. “Wake up!” he yelled. “The place is burning down!”

The Reverend came running down the stairs. She dodged around the flames by the bathroom. “Everyone out!” she cried. “Everyone out!”

The overnighters rushed out of their rooms, dazed looks straining their faces. They jammed in the hallway. Roy tried to get past them and found himself pressed against the wall. He thought for sure he’d be crushed. The men tried to hurry, to push and shove their way out, but all the rushing did was slow them down.

Pete tripped and fell. He tried to catch himself on the man in front of him, but he slipped into the mass and hit the floor. Five men stepped on him as they tried to get to the stairs. Pete grunted each time. Roy tried to help him, and someone bumped into Roy, almost tumbling him. But he managed to catch himself on the floor. He was ready to push himself up when someone fell over him, a knee slamming into Roy’s back. Roy grimaced. The man who fell hit his head on the floor, so Roy knew the guy took most of the pain. Still, Roy’s back hurt, and people kept stampeding over Pete. This wasn’t working.

“Calm down!” Roy shouted. “You idiots are gonna get us all killed!”

No one heard him, or if they did, they didn’t pay any attention. They kept trying to run over each other to get out. Pete rolled to the side, and Roy finally reached him and helped him up.

“You all right?” Roy asked.

Pete said something, but Roy couldn’t hear him over the screams of panic.

Several men reached the stairs and started down, but then a wave of fire exploded onto the stairs, and the others pulled back. The fire had cut them off as if it had a mind of its own.

“It’s no use,” the Reverend cried. “We can’t get out that way. Go back! Go back!” She pulled men away from the stairs, trying to shepherd them away from the danger.

Roy felt as though he were being cooked in a saucepan. Sweat rolled down his face, and his shirt stuck to his back. He ducked down, trying to keep his head out of the smoke that swirled above them. Frank suddenly appeared in front of him shoving something in his face. Shoes! Roy grinned, thankful for Frank’s quick thinking. He took a moment to slip the shoes on his feet then felt himself being carried in a wave of people down the hall. Everyone was screaming. People kept slamming into him, and he twisted in pain, swinging his arm back. His cast smashed poor Pete in the face. Pete’s eyes crossed as Roy mumbled apologies that were lost amid the screams.

The fire advanced, chasing after them.

“Get to the fire escape!” the Reverend yelled.

They hurried down the hall. The first of the men hit the door. It didn’t budge.

“It won’t open!” Tony said. He pushed on it with all his strength. The men crowded up against the fire door, and their collective weight crushed Tony against the bar. “I can’t breathe,” he groaned. “You’re killing me.”

The fire raced after them, burning up the hallway as if in a frenzied effort to reach them. Roy wondered if it were being controlled. Maybe Ken was directing it with his new power. Was he holding the door shut the same way? The fire hesitated for a moment at each room as it spit flame into their depths then started toward the group again. Sparks shot in all directions, starting mini blazes.

“We’re steak!” someone yelled.

“Baked potatoes, man!”

“Is there another way out?” Roy asked.

The Reverend shook her head. “Unless you want to jump out a window.”

They were on the fourth floor. That didn’t seem like a safe leap of faith to Roy. He also didn’t want to plow into the mass of people crowding the fire escape, but panic shouldered common sense aside. The fire was almost on them.

“Sorry, Tony,” Roy said and dived into the sea of men. Tony moaned as they all pushed on him.

Suddenly, the door flew open. Tony staggered out and almost flipped over the railing. One of the others caught him and hauled him back to safety. The men crowded out the door and down the black metal steps. Roy was worried that someone would stumble and fall, causing a domino effect with the rest, but for once, luck chose to shine on them. It wasn’t what he’d call an orderly evacuation, but Roy had to admit it was an effective one.

Next thing Roy knew, he was standing across the street, watching flames devour the mission he’d called home. It bothered him to just stand there and watch the place burn down, but what could he do? He was helpless.

He kept expecting to hear the sirens of approaching fire engines, but they never sounded. No one would venture this far north at night anymore—not firemen, not police. Nobody even tried to save the mission, and the tears in the Reverend’s eyes told Roy that even if they came right now, they’d be too late to save anything.

***

A head count told him that everyone was present and accounted for. No one had died, which, considering the circumstances, was a small miracle. At least, that’s what the Reverend claimed.

Snow started to fall, and the wind began to howl. Roy didn’t have a coat. Only a few people had thought to grab theirs. At least Roy had his shoes. Looking around, he saw that most of the others had forgotten those too. They all stood around, shivering.

“Where did the Reverend go?” Roy asked Frank.

Frank pointed. “The cops and the firemen still ain’t here, but the TV news crew is. The Reverend wants to be on TV.”

Roy followed Frank’s finger but couldn’t see over the heads of the crowd. Had there been that many people in the mission? Roy didn’t think so. What was it about disasters that brought people out in droves? Did they just want to look and thank the powers that be that this time it wasn’t them? Folks always had to smile on others’ misfortune, Roy thought. It made him cringe.

Roy squirmed through the crowd and found the Reverend talking to a woman whose stiff hair didn’t even budge in the wind. She held a microphone in the Reverend’s face.

“It’s terrible,” the Reverend said. “The forces of darkness are gaining a stronger foothold in the world. They’ve burned us out. The police refuse to come out here. The firemen are too busy on the other side of town. What about the local station?”

“It was closed down,” the reporter said. She smiled for the camera. “Arson.”

The Reverend leaned closer to her to speak into the microphone. “We are truly lost in the realms of evil and apathy!”

“Do you think this was an accident, or do you have reason to suspect that this, too, was arson?”

“Nothing happens by accident,” the Reverend said. “The good Lord watched over us and helped us escape without loss of life. For that we must be thankful. However, Satan and his evil minions are taking over our city. They are trying to take away shelter from the homeless. They are trying to rape the minds of our youth. They are trying to—”

“Obviously, you think someone set the fire,” the reporter said. “Do you have any idea who might have done so?”

“Someone in league with the forces of darkness. We have to—”

The reporter turned and barked directions for her cameraman, leaving the Reverend to speak to the cold, night air.

She stopped in midsentence and looked at Roy. “Some people,” the Reverend said, “have no respect for God.”

“I guess they don’t think He’s newsworthy,” Roy said.

When the fire burned itself out, all that remained standing of the mission was the brick chimney. Piles of charred and blackened wood and tile lay scattered everywhere. Roy looked at it and sighed. If you breathed on what was left, it would likely crumble to ash. Nothing was salvageable.

“The Lord will watch over us,” the Reverend said, placing a hand on Roy’s shoulder.

Roy looked over at her and tried to remember the last time the Reverend had touched him, right after Willie’s death. So much had happened since that lonely day. And nothing had been accomplished.

“We just have to stand together,” she said. “Though we’ve been driven out tonight, we must not give up hope. We have to pull together and start anew.”

Roy nodded and the Reverend moved to talk to the others. Roy wandered away, trying to collect his thoughts. All the way back from Jim’s place this afternoon, he’d felt as if he were being watched. He’d chalked it up to paranoia after the scare Jim had given him, but now he wasn’t so sure. He felt that Ken was responsible for the fire. It had to have been a half-hearted attempt to tie up one of the loose ends. Not that Roy posed much of a threat, but he figured he’d pissed Ken off.

The Reverend thought God would look out for them, but Roy saw it differently. As far as he was concerned, God had His chance and He’d blown it. People were still dying as Ken tried his mystical target practice. Now that he was taking shots in Roy’s direction again, Roy knew he’d have to try once more to do something about it. Not that he’d done much good so far, but it was better to go down fighting.

What could he do? He hadn’t scored so high on his previous outings. And that’s when he was with Jim and they had a location and timetable to work with. And that was before Ken had unleashed this powerful force that even Jim was afraid of. Hell, Jim wouldn’t even set foot outside that hole of his. And if Jim was that scared of something, maybe suicide was the best answer for someone like Roy. But that answer didn’t taste good. Killing himself might mean avoiding the problem, but then he wouldn’t exist so what difference would it make? At least by staying alive, he had a chance for something better.

Maybe Jim would help if Roy approached him from the right angle. He walked down the street toward Jim’s place and wondered if Jim would kill him if he called Jim a coward.