by D C Grant
fireman’s lift, turning to face toward the door while grabbing my shoulder with his other hand.
I put the jacket back over my face but my throat’s already damaged from the particle-laden air. At that moment something in the room explodes. A ball of flame flies across the room, dancing along the underside of the ceiling before running down the wall to land on Ben’s bed, which bursts into flame. The flames continue along the wall, licking their way around the frame of the door. Our exit is blocked. Turning back to me, the fireman grabs my arm and pulls me toward the window where he smashes the glass with his axe. Behind me the fire, now burning fiercely, roars as oxygen rushes in to feed it and we have to get out quickly or we will die.
At the window, the fireman passes Ben to someone standing outside, avoiding as much as possible the shards of glass still in the window frame. He turns around to me and I scramble over the sill, my palm catching the edge of a piece of glass before I jump down onto the grass below the window. A fireman waiting there puts a blanket around my shoulders as I double over, coughing and retching, while blood drips from my fingers. I look behind me to see the fireman climbing out of the window and the flames reaching giant fingers through the frame and up the outside of the house as he clambers down. We made it out in time – just.
The fireman crouches beside me. “Are you okay?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, gasping for breath. “Ben?”
“Is that the other boy?”
“Yeah.”
He glances over.
“They’re loading him into the ambulance. You’d better go with him. You need medical attention yourself. That cut is going to need stitches and you’ll need treatment for the smoke inhalation.”
The fireman helps me to my feet. I’m light-headed and my body’s weak, but my brain is functioning okay. I stagger along, leaning heavily on the fireman, not really able to see much through the tears in my eyes from the smoke, coughing.
“The family?” I ask.
“They’re all out. The fire hasn’t got to the rest of the house yet.”
“Just Ben’s room?”
“Yes, it seems to be mainly around those computers. Could have been an electrical fault – might have been smoldering for hours.”
Or made to look that way.
There are people gathered around at the front of the house, drawn by the flashing lights and sirens. There are two fire engines and several police cars but I’m not looking at them, I’m looking at Ben lying in the back of the ambulance. There’s a mask over his face and a medic is using a bag to push air into his lungs.
“Another customer,” the fireman says as we approach.
“Get in,” the medic says. “We’ve got to get this boy to Harborview quickly.”
Climbing in, I sit down on the other side and the rear door closes. The ambulance takes off immediately, siren blaring as it clears the road ahead.
“How is he?” I ask.
The medic looks over and his face says it all.
“The sooner we get him to medical attention the better. He’s got a weak pulse and his breathing’s ragged. He needs specialized equipment fast. Were you the boy who went after him?”
“Yeah, he’s my best friend.”
“Well, it was brave but stupid.” He takes my hand and presses a pad against the wound cut by the glass. “You could’ve been killed.”
I’m not going to tell him about the other times I’ve escaped death tonight.
Then I suddenly think – where’s Mike?
Hospital Room
When we reach Harborview, they unload Ben first then help me down the ambulance steps. I gather my thoughts as we enter the emergency entrance, looking around, wondering where to go. The staff gather round Ben’s stretcher while the medics quickly relay information to the doctors and nurses. No one’s paying me attention, so I sit in one of the chairs in the waiting room, as my legs feel like they won’t hold me up for much longer. My cut hand, although throbbing, is not as urgent as Ben’s injuries and I’m glad of the chance to relax in a quiet warm spot for a while, not having to worry about keeping myself alive while fighting off men determined to kill me. I close my eyes.
“Jason!” a familiar voice calls.
I force my eyes open. Captain Gaffney comes toward me and I struggle to my feet as he gets closer.
“What are you going here?” he asks. “I thought …”
“Thought what?”
“I thought you’d be tucked up in bed at this time of the night. What’s happened to you?” He looks down at my hand, where blood is beginning to seep through the bandage.
“I … I …” I find I don’t know where to start. How do I tell him about what the chief of police has been up to? Chief Clarke is his boss – does the captain have the authority to arrest him?
The captain puts his hand on my shoulder, smiles and says, “I’m about to go and see your father. Why don’t you talk to me in the elevator? We’ll come back later and get your hand seen to. They appear to be a bit busy at the moment.”
He leads me over to the elevators and presses a button. I shiver in spite of the blanket. I’m still chilled and shocked at the night’s events, but I have to tell the captain what has happened because Mike is still out there somewhere and someone has to stop the chief of police. He listens quietly as I tell him while we ride up in the elevator.
“That’s great, Jason. I’m glad you’ve told me. I’ll deal with it.”
The elevator stops and the door opens. Sandman is standing in front of us. I take a step backward and end up against the captain.
“That’s him!” I cry.
The captain grabs both my arms and propels me forward.
“Yes, I know it is.” He looks over at Sandman. “I thought I told you to take care of the boy?”
“I did, Boss.”
Boss! Captain Gaffney is the boss! I struggle against the tight grip the captain has on my arms but I can’t break free.
“Well, you didn’t do it well enough. Come on, let’s deal with his dad and then get rid of him. Really, how difficult can it be to get this right?”
Desperately I look around. I’m in a hospital; there must be people nearby who can see what’s going on. But I see no one.
“Did you create a little diversion?” Gaffney asks Sandman as he pushes me along the corridor.
“Yes, Boss.” He smiles and indicates a room off to the right. A machine inside is screaming an alarm and I can hear a doctor shouting orders. Even if I cry out, no one will hear except the patients. “It should keep them busy for a while.”
“Good, come on. Jason, come and say goodbye to your father.”
“You bastard!” I again try to wriggle out from the captain’s clasp but I’m weakened by the night’s events and he is a big strong man. We reach my father’s room. There is no police guard on the door. The curtain around the bed is half-closed so that, once we step in, no one in the corridor can see us.
“Stand by the door,” the captain says to Sandman as he releases me.
I run to my father but he’s still asleep and doesn’t respond when I call him. Tears start to run down my cheeks. I’ve come so close to living through this only to face death again, not only mine but my father’s as well. I turn on the captain.
“Why?” I ask. “Why us, why my father? What have we done to you?”
“He got too close,” the captain says as he takes a syringe out of his coat pocket. “You’re just like your father, Jason. You couldn’t keep your nose out; you had to investigate, just like he did. It was a clever move to get Mike involved, and there I was thinking that Mike just wanted to earn some extra dough to save his precious wife – meanwhile he was feeding your father information. He was good, I’ll give him that. Mike’s dead too, so much for that. Why do you look so surprised, Jason?”
Mike had been alive when we’d stopped at Ben’s house, and I wondered how they had got to him; perhaps in the chaos of the fire they had shot him. But there was no time to feel sorrow.
>
“You’re a policeman!” I cry. “My father looked up to you. You’re not supposed to do this sort of thing.”
“Why not? I’ve seen how often people get away with this kind of stuff. It was time to take something back, something for my retirement to compensate for all the years of shoveling shit. I’m making good money for a change and I was damned if I was going to let your father get in the way.”
“Can’t you just leave us alone? Mike’s dead, Ben’s computers have all burnt up and Dad’s in a coma. Just leave us alone and I won’t say anything.”
“I’m sorry, Jason, but you and your father have to be eliminated. I’ve got too much at stake to let either of you live.”
“I won’t let you kill him.”
“And how do you think you’ll stop me?”
“You leave him alone!” I shout as I make a move toward him, but Sandman grabs me and holds me fast.
The captain holds the syringe up to the light and pushes on the plunger so that a small jet of liquid shoots out. “This time I’ll make sure he dies.”
“No!” I cry and strain to get away from Sandman, but his grip on me is too tight.
“Jason.”
At first I don’t recognize the voice. It’s soft, and low and scratchy, and it comes from behind the captain.
“Jason.” It’s Dad’s voice.
Gaffney moves and I can see Dad. His eyes are open and his head is turned toward me.
“Dad!” I cry, striving to get away from Sandman.
“Well, isn’t this a nice touch?” Gaffney says. “The father awakes to say goodbye to his son before he dies.” He has the syringe in his hand, hovering over the lure