6:22 P.M.
WHEN JASON AND BRIAN had scouted this stretch of road in the middle of the week, it had been empty. But now, early on a Saturday evening, Jason counted a half-dozen parked cars. The lot for the nearby trail to Basin Falls must be full.
Only Brian’s plan had called for parking here, and he had made it clear that Jason shouldn’t deviate from the plan. And so far, Brian’s plan was going like clockwork.
So Jason found a spot. Before he got out, he cranked down the windows. Then he opened up the back of the little 1984 Chevette he had bought off Craigslist. Four hundred cash. Three hundred for the car, and another hundred for not asking questions. Later, Jason had destroyed the burner phone he’d used to arrange the deal.
The trunk of the hatchback was empty except for a single road flare.
After he retrieved it, Jason looked up and down the road but didn’t see anyone. He walked around the car until it was between him and the road. He pulled the lid off the white cap to expose the coarse red striking surface. Then he twisted off the cap. He took a slow breath, trying to steady his nerves. Then in a single fast movement, he struck the black button on the end of the flare across the coarse red surface on the plastic cap, like striking a giant match. It lit with a hiss and a shower of sparks, reminding him of fireworks.
He tossed it into the back seat, the way Brian had said.
And now he was supposed to walk away. Walk back down the road to where it joined up with the bigger road. Brian would pick him up. And meanwhile, their getaway car would turn into a fireball, destroying any prints and DNA they had left.
But what if the flare guttered and went out?
A flame started on the stained fabric of the seat, then began to inch up the back. It felt like magic. He had just created it out of nothing. Now it danced and moved like a living thing. The flames were yellow in the center, then orange and finally red at the edges.
Smoke was beginning to billow out of the car. A breeze blew through the driver’s side window and pushed the flames toward the middle of the seat.
The smoke was turning from gray to black. It tasted acrid. Jason stepped back, coughing, still reluctant to walk away. What if someone showed up with a fire extinguisher and put it out?
The flames reached out of the car, up past the roof. Inside, the headliner caught. It fell, a blanket of fire.
Boom! The back glass of the hatchback shattered, and a piece of metal shot toward him. It landed in the dry weeds, and suddenly they were on fire as well. Suddenly, everything was on fire.
Jason turned and ran, trying to get ahead of the flames.