Dark Justice

Chapter 71

Ben fired the soapy water straight ahead of them and, with a sudden burst of speed, plunged into the flames. He forced the trio forward, racing at top speed, spraying everything that lay in his path.

Even though the flames were only a few feet thick, and they were only in the midst of the blaze for a heartbeat, it seemed like an eternity. The world went into slow motion, as suddenly Ben became aware of the all-consuming fire radiating all around him. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t even think about stopping because he knew if he did, it would be the end. They had to keep pressing through, not giving the fire a chance to catch. Even if Ben couldn’t see the flames, he could feel them, with every ounce of his being, on every inch of his skin. He was propelling himself forward on impulse power as one by one his bodily systems began to overheat.

The garden hose reached the end of its tether and jerked out of Ben’s hands. He didn’t stop-he couldn’t-but he felt the immediate impact. It was as if the oven had been turned on High and suddenly there were flames shooting up from beneath him, broiling him, burning him alive-

And then they were out. They had cleared the flames. They tumbled into a heap, collapsing onto the dirt, just outside the wall of fire.

Ben ripped the shirt off his head. Even though the heat was still intense, they were out of the fire. They had made it through. It had seemed impossible, but together, they had done it.

“My arm!” Slade shouted.

Ben whipped his head around. Slade was on fire. The shirt over his head had slipped, and the man’s sleeve had caught fire.

Ben jumped up and threw the shirt that had covered his own head around Slade’s arm. He wrapped it tightly around till the flames were snuffed.

“My God, that hurts!” Slade said. He was gritting his teeth, fighting back tears. “But we made it. By God, Kincaid-we made it!”

Ben crouched beside Maureen. Her eyes were closed and her face was bright red. “Are you-are you all right?” he asked.

Maureen didn’t answer, but she took Ben’s arm and pulled him close to her. Their lips met, and they fell into a deep and urgent kiss. It seemed to Ben as if he had been waiting a lifetime for this, waiting forever.

He rolled over on his back and lay for a moment, gasping for air. They should move away from the flames, away from the crippling heat, but that could surely wait at least another second or two. He didn’t realize until then how stressed, how dog-tired he was. Tired of thinking, tired of moving-tired of everything. All he wanted to do was rest. And wait.

Which is exactly what he did. Till he heard the familiar chopping sound of helicopter blades cutting through the superheated air outside. The wings of angels, Ben thought, as his smoke-baked eyelids closed. The wings of angels.