Perfect Justice

63.

BEN AWOKE CHOKING. THE smoke cast a gray haze through the hall. It was difficult to see more than a few feet away.

He shook his head several times, trying to clear out the cobwebs. He was still in Fellowship Hall. At least he thought he was. It was difficult to be certain. The chloroform had left him with blurred vision and a dull throbbing between his temples. He had to—

Oh my God. Christina!

He shouted out her name, but didn’t hear a response. He looked all around, but the smoke obscured his vision. Worse, he could see the blaze billowing out from the ASP war room and spreading into the hall. The fire must’ve been set in there, probably through the cellar door Ben had left open.

“Christina!”

He ran around the table, trying to find some trace of her. Would they have taken her with them? Why her and not him? It made no sense.

“Christina!”

He tried to remember where he had seen her last. They were holding her over there, behind the table. …

He practically stepped on her before he saw her. She was lying on the floor, hands over her head. Her eyes were closed.

“Christina!” He coughed; the smoke was getting to him. He took her head and gently moved it back and forth, calling out her name.

Slowly her eyelids opened. She started to speak, inhaled smoke, and began to cough violently.

Ben helped her sit upright. “What happened?” she gasped.

“Someone set the church on fire. The ASP clan fled. They left us here to die.”

“Great. How—” Her voice was consumed by coughing.

“I think you got a bigger dose of chloroform than I did before ASP hightailed it out of here. Can you stand?”

She nodded. Ben helped her to her feet.

“I don’t mean to rush you, but the back entrance is already blocked off by fire. We need to get out of here before the front doors are impassable as well.”

With his arm around her shoulder, they moved to the stairwell that appeared to lead to the ground floor of the church. The passage was already filled with dark sooty smoke, but they made their way to the top.

The front entrance to the church was consumed in flame.

Ben clenched his teeth. “They must’ve set a second fire. The arsonist was trying to trap everyone inside.”

“It must not have worked,” Christina said. A layer of black soot underlined her nose and mouth. “The ASP gang isn’t here.”

“The back entrance,” Ben said, snapping his fingers. “Remember—we passed it on our way to the cellar door. Must be on the other side of the pulpit.” He grabbed Christina’s hand. “Come on!”

“Wait a minute!”

“What? We don’t have time—”

“Listen!”

Ben fell quiet. And a few seconds later he heard it, too, above the roar of the flames.

The whimpers and cries of the dogs.

Christina ran to one of the stained-glass windows in the chapel. The windows were too narrow to squeeze through, even if they knocked the glass out. But the windows did provide a view of the dogs. “The fire has spread to the kennel! They’re trapped!”

“I’m sorry,” Ben replied, “but we don’t have time for this. We have to get out of here!”

“We can’t just let those poor dogs burn to death!”

Ben swore silently. “There’s a control panel near the front entrance. I saw it when I was here before. It electronically controls the kennel doors.”

“Show me.”

Ben and Christina ran back to the front entrance. In the space of perhaps a minute, the flames had grown twice as large. Even standing ten feet away, the heat was so searing they couldn’t come any closer.

Ben pointed. “It’s over there, on the wall. Beside that closet door or whatever it is.”

“It’s too hot!” she cried. “I can’t get to it!”

Ben remembered where the men’s room was. He ran in and found to his relief that the faucets were still working. He removed his windbreaker, soaked it thoroughly, and threw it over his head.

“Be careful!” Christina shouted when he emerged.

“I’ll do my best.” Draped in the wet coat, Ben ran to the control panel. The heat was scalding; he could almost feel his skin melting. The coat provided some protection to his face, but he knew he couldn’t count on that for long. Images of Maria Truong flashed in his brain. Please God, he did not want to be burned like that. Please—anything but that.

He had no idea which of the blinking buttons controlled the kennel, so he tried them all in rapid succession. After the third button, he heard Christina shout from inside the chapel.

“That’s it! The doors are opening! Get out of there!”

Ben raced away from the control panel, the flames licking at his heels. He felt scorched from head to toe. But he made it out.

He looked through the chapel window and saw the terrified dogs bolting out of the blazing kennel. “Now let’s get out of here!”

He grabbed her hand and raced toward the backdoor. Or as close to it as they could get.

The delay of a few minutes had cost them dearly. The fire in the basement was spreading not only out but up. The flames caught onto the wooden floor and crept all over the north wall.

They couldn’t even get close to the door.

“That’s it, then,” Ben said, staring into the flickering flames. “We’re trapped.”