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Looking down the barrel of a gun again was even worse with Janice on the other end. But the next booming sound wasn't for me or the Chief, as the shop door behind her exploded, knocking her wildly to the ground again.
A trail of fire followed seconds later. I didn't stop to wonder why, but grabbed at the Chief to boost him up and out of the path of flames. Like honey bees to a field of flowers, that trail of fire was following the trail of sweet-smelling oil. Janice, having landed nearer the door, was right in its sights, as it spread fast through the old dry carpet.
Trying to get off the carpet, I half dragged the Chief down the hall toward the locker rooms. It was the only area I knew that had tile, not carpet.
My shoes, having some residual oil from our earlier fight, slipped on the tile and we fell down, as another bullet hit the paneling over our head. I pushed off the one wall, and threw the Chief past the men's locker room door and into the storage room, slamming the door in Janice's face as she skidded around the corner.
No way to lock the door on the inside, the Chief threw his weight against a metal shelf opposite the door to wedge against the wall, spilling paints and cleaning bottles, then fell on top of me as Janice let loose a volley of bullets at the door.
As the chamber clicked empty, Janice howled in frustrations that soon morphed into screams as the fire caught up to her greasy body. Moments later her bellows faded, blending into the overhead fire alarms.
Pushing him off me, I yelled over the siren, "Is it bad?"
"Won't matter if we don't get out of here," he deflected my questions. "There is an exit, right?"
Grabbing washcloths, and a few rubber exercise bands, I pushed his hands away first from his thigh, and then his shoulder, tying quick tight pressure bandages.
"Ah, not really. We will have to make one. To do that, I might need your help. But letting you bleed to death on this floor is not part of the plan." I rambled as I tied, and tightened. I knew it was good and tight, when he winced. The direct pressure would have to do for now.
Smoke and heat soon joined the deadly threat. Now bandaged, Chief Flint used spare water bottles to wet down towels for relief from the smoke as I surveyed our supplies.
I knew the layout of this building very well. Down the tiled hallway, we had five rooms to pick from: Men's locker room, Women's locker room, Tanning room, Hot tub, and this store room. Behind and in back of all the rooms that had running water, was a mechanical access room with door to the outside. I picked the store room to hide because of possibilities to break into that access room.
With smoke beginning to float into the upper edges of the room, and sounds of the fire burning on the far wall, I quickly paced out the dimensions to find the area of wall that should meet the access hall. I found a hammer and a wrench, but three swings with a small hammer barely made a dent in the drywall, and there was plywood behind that. I needed something with more force.
Keeping Skylar and Hunter's physics lessons in mind, I dug through the dusty odds and ends that lined the room. I located two mostly filled tanks of helium left over from the winter carnival, plus a mop bucket on wheels.
Every sore muscle in my upper body complained when I rolled the tanks into position, tip ends to the back, but adrenaline kept me moving. As the smoky veil lowered from the ceiling, the sore and bruised ribs were the least of my problems.
"Throw me some more exercise bands," I coughed.
With Chief's help to balance, I strapped them down with more rubber exercise bands, sealing the deal with some duct tape. We would only get one shot at it, so I needed it secure.
In just the few moments I used to prepare our escape route, the smoke had half-filled the tiny room. Chief's water-logged rags helped to ease the sting of breathing the toxic smoke. But we could do nothing about the rising temperature of the room, nor the farthest wall as the fire began to burn its way through. I lined the cart up, and prayed for good aim, as I swung the wrench down on the tip ends of the canisters.
Swoosh! The cart gained momentum over the two feet of distance with enough force to smashed through the drywall and crack into the plywood walls. Pulling the cart back, I pulled the loose drywall and in desperation, as I knew time was running out. Finally, I just laid down and kicked the splinted wood to make the hole bigger.
Chief Flint stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. "Big enough for you. Go!"
"No!" I tried to respond, but coughed instead.
"Go!" He coughed, and pushed me toward the hole.
This time I listened. I climbed through the hole, but I didn't run outside. The air wasn't much better in the crawl space, but I took a deep breath while laying low, then stood up for better leverage. Remembering the very first kick my children learned in the Martial Arts book, I took a cross over back step and kicked with all my might. It worked. Two more kicks like that and the wood splintered to create a hole I thought he would fit.
Beckoning to the Chief, I assisted his crawl out. Good arm over my shoulder, we half walked, half ran through the dense smoke to the door I knew was just five feet away.
Bursting out into the daylight and fresh air, we collapsed in a heap, trying to catch our breath.
"Hey, over here," a voice called in the distance.
Looking up, I saw Craig Maurey running toward us, with two firemen right behind. Scooped into a fireman's carry, Craig and one fireman dashed the Chief down the alley to an awaiting ambulance. The other fireman put his mask on my face, swooped me away in his arms, to safety across the street.
By the time my fireman reached the ambulance, it was already loaded with Chief Flint. Since we only have one ambulance in town, they tossed me in the front seat and drove away. I didn't complain much, as I was too busy concentrating on proper breathing between coughing up black tar. Plus, I knew the Chief needed medical help fast. Once we reach the hospital, I would just call Martin to pick me up. I leaned my overheated body against the door frame and closed my eyes, letting the cool fresh air from the window wash over me, as my lungs convulsed spewing out the toxic fumes from the fire.