‘Run!’
I jumped to my feet and ran with the herd of people towards the back end of the museum, away from the groaning monstrosity falling from the sky.
Giant bones exploded against the marble floor with a deafening clatter, sending clouds of ancient bone dust into the air.
Oh, this was bad. My bad. I clutched my hair with one hand and cast a furtive glance at the man standing beside me. Maybe nobody had realised this was my fault. It was Cravat Man who stood beside me, his eyes protruding a tad, his nostrils flaring. ‘I donated the money to buy that brontosaurus, young lady!’
I swallowed hard. ‘I … I really like your cravat?’
He ripped the silky cloth from his throat, threw it on the floor, and stomped away from me.
I looked back to the ongoing chaos. Most of the screaming had subsided, but people were scurrying about in a thousand different directions. The brontosaurus skeleton had landed in front of the doors at the front of the building, making them pretty much unusable. But on the bright side, at least the auction was over, nobody had gotten hurt aside from Bronty, and we’d all get out of here sooner or later. Yup, everything would be f—
‘FIRE!’
My eyes snapped up. A mural that ran down from the ceiling to floor against a length of wall blazed with flames. My rocket must have done it.
Sprinklers had already gone off on the surrounding floors, but not in the main lobby. It was the dome. They couldn’t attach sprinklers to the dome! The flames were bad, but it was the smoke that was the real danger. Soon we wouldn’t be able to breathe, and people were fighting one another to get over the dinosaur bones. There were too many people. Too much debris. For those of us at the back … we were trapped.
‘Look!’ a lady shouted. ‘What’s that man doing?’
I followed her finger back up to the mural. Except now there was someone reaching for the burning mountain of cloth from the fourth floor ledge …
And that someone was Pierce!
What was he doing? That thing was huge! And he couldn’t stop flames with his bare hands! But … if he did get it down, the flames might be smothered.
I watched Pierce stretch his arm across the wall towards the mural, Bart standing behind him, wringing his hands. It was a horrific situation, but, part of me realised, it wasn’t completely dire. There was no way he could reach it. We all just needed to find another way to get out. Surely, Pierce would realise this any second, and just turn around and—
NO! I watched Pierce hop up onto the railing as Bart had done before—except there was no pterodactyl safety net from where he was standing.
Oh God. This was all my fault! All of it! Pierce stretched again, reaching his left hand towards the tapestry as his right hand gripped the fold of the wall to keep himself from falling. I had to do something. My eyes jumped around the room and fell on an antique-looking divan. I ran for it. It was the best I could do. If he fell, maybe it could break his fall just enough to save his life. I weaved my way through the crowd of coughing, weeping people, knocking them aside when I had to. I skidded to a stop at one end of the divan, planted my hands on the edge, and pushed.
The freaking thing didn’t budge.
I pushed again, my boots skidding on the marble floor.
‘Come on!’ I shot a glance up. Oh God, he was leaning even farther. He almost had a grip on the burning mural, but he’d fall for sure if he reached that last inch.
I pushed again with everything I had. The sofa screeched across the floor half a foot. ‘That’s it,’ I muttered through my teeth, ‘Come on, you jerk!’ The sofa again inched toward the wall that led up to Pierce. He had the edge of the mural now. He hadn’t fallen, but he was yanking so hard. I rammed the sofa again. It moved a few inches. ‘Move!’ I only needed to get it a few more feet. I could do this. I looked up and—
‘Pierce! No!’
I watched in horror as Pierce’s left hand yanked the fabric again. It gave, tumbling in a burning sheet towards the floor … taking Pierce’s balance with it.
I was too late.
I watched helplessly as the man of my dreams toppled into nothingness.