by Andrew Gruse
People ducked instinctively despite being well out of harm’s way. Julie watched the inferno engulf the building. There was no way to exit the front of the school. The deputy spotted her.
He walked to Julie and pointed at her. He motioned for her to come to him.
“I thought I recognized that Honda,” the county deputy said. “Didn’t I see you down the road at the Johnston fire?”
Julie nodded.
“Where’s your boyfriend?”
Worry and concern covered her face. Her eyes looked to the building. “Zack is inside.”
“Well, that’s convenient. What is he doing in there?”
Julie understood. “No!” She said. “We stopped to watch the band; Zack saw a fire on the roof. Then one of the kids yelled there is a teacher inside. He ran inside to get her out.”
“What the hell did he do THAT for?” The deputy turned to look at the fire. It raged out of control. More windows shattered. Part of the brick around the main door crumbled off the building and crashed to the ground. “Did he come out yet?”
Julie shook her head.
“Oh no,” the deputy said. “You sure you were out here when the fire started?”
“She was, officer,” one of the band girls said. “She and the guy she was with were by the car watching us play when we saw the fire.”
The deputy nodded, satisfied with the answer. “Where the hell are they?”
The fire trucks appeared on the highway as they raced to the scene. The lead truck parked near the fire. The firemen scrambled. Julie read the emblem on its side: Fire Department of Clyde. A separate pickup truck with a flashing light raced into the lot, and a tall, slender man jumped out of his vehicle. He hustled over to the county deputy next to Julie.
“What do we have?” The dark-haired man asked. He glanced at Julie but quickly diverted his attention to the county deputy.
“See for yourself,” the deputy said. “Two people are inside.”
The man snapped back. “What?”
The deputy pointed with his thumb to Julie. “Her boyfriend heard a teacher may have been inside and raced in to find her. They were at the Johnston fire.”
The man looked at Julie and turned away. “No one is supposed to be inside,” he mumbled. “Shit. Keep everyone back.” The man ran to the fire trucks.
They heard another explosion. It shook the ground. Again everyone ducked instinctively. The deputy turned and saw the ball of smoke and flames near the smokestack in the rear of the school at the boiler room swallow the stack and the building around it. Then he saw it.
“Holy shit. That’s orange smoke again.” He looked at Julie. “What did your boyfriend mean by that?”
Julie shook her head. “You’ll have to ask him. If he comes out.”
CHAPTER 3
The window was the only way out.
Not an ideal way to exit from the second story. But the alternative was death.
Zack grabbed a desk with both hands, spun, and released it towards the windows. It crashed through and fell to the ground. Zack looked out; his eyesight blurred. He blinked and wiped them to see what was below. A parked car and several school buses lined up along the building. “Get up,” he said.
The woman coughed and covered her mouth with her shirt as she crawled to Zack.
More of the ceiling buckled and sagged. The fire continued its onslaught. Another explosion ripped a massive hole in the wall of the building. Items fell off the wall, and the building shook. Molly’s room. The flammables just blew. He grabbed another desk and launched it through the window in the front of the classroom. Zack fell to his knees and coughed. His mind fought off the panic mode; Stay calm. You only have moments before the smoke wins. Get out that window now, Zack.
The fresh air from the second broken window vented some but offered little relief. Zack stood. “Come on.” Zack put his hand on the sill, a remaining piece of glass cut him. He ripped off his shirt and put it on the ledge. “Get up. Go for the roof of the school bus below,” he instructed.
“What?”
Zack grabbed her by the waist, lifted her to the window and pushed her legs out. “JUMP!” He pushed her towards the rooftop of the school bus below, got on the window ledge, and jumped behind her.
Molly landed awkwardly on the roof and fell off. Zack bounced off the top of the school bus and hit the ground beside her. Another window exploded. Flames shot out of the window, and debris fell about the driveway behind the school. Burning building landed on the car and buses.
They heard more small explosions. Zack saw the tall smokestack beside the boiler room: the heat supply for the entire school complete with storage for fuel oil. The fire swallowed it.
“We have to get out of here,” Zack said amidst a constant cough and hack.
Zack pulled her off the ground. A part of a wall crumbled onto the drive to the north of them, and flames shot out of the side of the building.
Zack grabbed her hand, and the two ran the opposite direction south towards the rear of the school, past the boiler room and towards the forest behind the school grounds. The heat didn’t dissipate as they ran past the boiler room, through a large parking lot and towards the fence line. They ran through the gate, across a small field towards a large pond. Then, another explosion rocked the area. The blast had a different pitch than an oil drum or gasoline explosion. I heard that earlier today.
A secondary explosion followed. Zack knew it was the oil tank. The fireball expanded and raced at them. It fried everything in its path and left the earth scorched. Zack kept her hand in his and dove headfirst into the pond. The fireball overwhelmed the water.
Zack opened his eyes as they propelled across the pond beneath the water surface. The orange, red, and black fireball heated up the surface. Zack could feel the temperature change, and it brightened the depths of the pond. The two swam further, holding their breath.
The flame ball dissolved. The two swam further and out of breath, aching lungs, and pounding hearts, they burst to the surface near the far shoreline and gasped for fresh air. Is that orange smoke, or are my eyes on fire?
He pulled her ashore. The two sat for a moment when Zack saw the smokestack teeter and lean. It crumbled, popped, and started its freefall.
“No, no, no, no, no!” Zack grabbed her hand again and yanked her away from the collapsing stack. It hurdled down and slammed into the ground. The top hit the pond and looked like the water exploded. Bricks, mortar, smoke, dirty water, and ash billowed into the air and rained upon the two as they fell to the ground. Zack covered Molly with his body as the debris hit them.
Zack held his breath and kept his eyes closed. Molly squirmed a little and coughed. He coughed and lifted himself off of her, the weight of the debris slowed him but fell off as he got to his knees, stood and lifted Molly to her feet. They walked out of the cloud of ashes and dust, got to a clear area, and fell to their butts in short manicured grass.
They coughed, expelled the dirty smoke and ash from their lungs and nose, and remained seated as the school burned to the ground. Zack watched. It shouldn’t have gone down that fast.
He caught his breath, looked at the woman beside him. “Welcome to Clyde, where it all begins, huh?”
* * * *
She stared at him, coughed and nodded. “Did you see anyone else leave the building?”
“No. Was there someone else inside?”
Molly Lockett stared at the building but didn’t answer. They both coughed and hacked.
Zack looked at her. The dirt and ashes and dripping black water didn’t hide the look of fear in her eyes. “Are you ok?”
She coughed and nodded. “Thank you. You saved my life.”
Zack coughed and spit a gob of dark saliva from his mouth. “Now we’ll just die of lung cancer,” he said softly between coughs.
“You didn’t see anyone else inside?”
“I didn’t see anyone else.” Zack got to his knees, rested his hands on his thighs, and forced several cou
ghs to expel what was in his lungs. “Why was your classroom door blocked?”
“What?” She coughed and spit out dark gunk. “It wasn’t.”
Yes, it was. “Why were you hiding in the restroom?”
“I,” she hesitated, “I guess I was scared when I heard you come in.”
Zack looked at her and watched her face. She shifted her eyes away from him, and her shoulders slouched. If he had to guess, and he was, she lied.
“The ladies restroom?” He coughed. “Did you even know the building was burning?”
“I,” she hesitated again and shook her head. “You didn’t see anyone leave?”
He stood slowly, stretched his back and coughed. “That’s the fourth time you asked me that. What aren’t you telling me?”
She looked away and tried to catch her breath between hacking coughs. “Just hoping no one else was inside,” she said.
Liar, liar, school is on fire. “The only thing that left the building beside us were the desks I threw out the windows.” He coughed up another chunk of gunk. “Sorry, that’s disgusting, I know.”
Molly coughed, shook her head, and did the same. “Like you said, now we’ll only die of lung cancer.”
“Come on,” he said and helped her to her feet. “People think we’re dead right now, and that’s the last thing I want Jules to think.”
Hands on their knees, faces red, they both coughed repeatedly.
“Who’s Jules?”
“My fiancé.” Zack stretched his back and looked at the fire scene.
“Who are you?”
“Her fiancé,” Zack said. He coughed more.
“What is your name?”
“Zack,” Zack said and offered his hand. “Zack Stack.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Passing through,” Zack bent over and hacked up what felt like his other lung.
“Are you sure you didn’t see anyone else?” She coughed and hacked.
Zack stood straight. “Molly, I saw no one. Why do you keep asking me that?”
“No reason,” She said. Molly coughed, caught her breath, stared at the fire and school. “Wow. Have you ever seen a school do that?” She shook her head. “Wonder what we’ll do for school on Monday.”
“Molly, I think school has been permanently dismissed.”
CHAPTER 4
Julie Fletcher sat near the fence at the far edge of the school parking lot on the northeast corner of the school campus. As she watched in horror, she needed fresh air. When the smokestack tumbled after the boiler room erupted, she knew. No one survived. He was gone.
She felt the force where she stood. The heat and power of the explosion leveled its surroundings. Julie needed to get off her feet. Tears streamed. Against the fence behind the crowd offered the only solitude she could get until she knew the fate of Zack.
Members in the band had seen at least four people enter the school. Julie had since seen two leave. One was the bandleader. Julie overheard someone say the principal was the other. He, too, moved his car far away from the inferno but came nowhere near the group of students and Julie. He stayed near the road on the north end of the school with the bandleader.
Firemen scrambled, hoses hooked to hydrants, and water streamed onto the burning heap but to little effect. The damage was done. It was complete. Julie watched walls crumble and disappear, smoke, ash, dust, and debris rose into the air in plumes that vanished into the air and blew to the northeast, away from the town. The crowd assembled and grew. Julie suspected the entire population was along the street to the north of the school grounds, behind the police cars that stopped traffic and held the masses at a safe distance.
Still, all Julie thought about was Zack. What the vacation started as and now turned into were two different things. She cried silently. He was gone.
* * * *
The two ambled around the outside of the six-foot chain link fence on a mowed four-foot-wide path along the fence perimeter. Though the sun shone brightly and the song of an Eastern Meadowlark filled the meadow to the east of them, it didn’t feel like a beautiful spring day. Zack, soaked blue jeans, missing a shirt and Molly, torn and saturated black yoga pants with her Cubs tee shirt soaked, dirty and ripped, coughed, though less frequently and trudged across the yellowish-green grass.
Zack saw the band huddled along the fence and to his relief, on the ground with her knees pulled to her chest, arms tight around her knees, head sunk into her forearms sat Julie. His heart sank, knowing he made her worry again. When will it become too much?
“Come on, climb over,” he said to Molly from the other side of the fence.
Molly didn’t hesitate. She secretly declared to herself she was going to do anything and everything this man asked her because Molly knew she would be dead inside the pile of ruins if he had not risked his life to find her.
Molly grabbed the top of the fence, and Zack helped her over. He stuck his foot against the link, raised up, foot to the top, and hopped over to the ground. The thud raised Julie’s head. She bolted off the ground, ran to him, and leaped into his arms. Only then did she realize he was shirtless and completely covered in soot, ash, dirt, and blood.
“OH MY GOD!”
He nodded and fell to his butt on the grass. He looked at Julie, who looked at Molly Lockett. “Jules, this is Molly. Molly, this is Jules.” He took a deep breath.
Julie looked at the equally disturbingly filthy Molly. “Are you ok?”
She nodded and smiled. “Thanks to Zack, I am.”
“Are you sure? You two look awful.”
Zack smiled. I’m really getting tired of hearing that.
Molly nodded again. “I’ve been better, but I’m fine,” she said. “Did you see anyone else leave the building?”
* * * *
Zack sat inside the ambulance while a paramedic cleaned and bandaged his many scrapes and cuts. Julie sat by his side and watched the events around them. The air smelled of smoke, ash, burnt rubber, wood, metal, and plastic despite the beautiful sky.
Smoke plumes filled the air, but they turned color to white as the school smoldered, and the water reacted with the coals. The fire died as quickly as it engulfed the school, and Zack knew why: there was nothing left to burn. No fuel, no fire.
The crowd dissipated, but the fire personnel continued to soak hot spots. The police opened the road again, and only the local force and the county cop remained on the scene. One, the local cop who looked like he was in charge, talked with a county deputy. The county deputy spoke to the local police, pointed at their car, and then at Zack. The local cop nodded, the two shook hands and went separate ways. To Zack’s dismay, the local cop’s way was right at Zack and Julie.
“Excuse me, are you Zack Stack and Julie Fletcher?” The local cop took off his campaign hat and held it under his arm.
“We are,” Zack answered.
“Stack, I’m Sheriff Barney Orbison. Sheriff of Clyde,” he said. Sheriff Orbison stood six feet two inches tall, and Zack guessed was a solid two-fifty plus. He had thin short hair, almost a light brown stubble atop his round head and round described his belly. His arms were thick but muscular. He took off his sunglasses and slid them atop his head to reveal brown eyes, a broad nose, thin lips, and a tanned complexion. He had a calming demeanor about him, a guy you could drink with, but Zack could tell if the right or wrong button was pushed, Orbison would be a ferocious opponent.
“You two like fires?”
Zack sighed. “Not like this.”
“Really? You were the first ones at the Johnston fire, right?”
“If you mean the farmhouse fire east of town, yes, we were there.”
“I’d say that’s rather fortunate, wouldn’t you? That you are unharmed, that is.”
“I’d say it’s rather unfortunate and incredibly inconvenient, Sheriff,” Zack said. “Before you ask, no, we had nothing to do with either.”
Sheriff Orbison nodded. “What brings you this way?”
“
Just passing through, Sheriff,” Zack replied. “We are on vacation.”
“Vacation? Where you headed?”
Zack smiled. “West until we hit the Mississippi River, then north. Site seeing mostly.”
“Not much of a vacation,” the sheriff said.
“That’s what I said,” Julie added.
“Well, Mr. Stack, we have a situation on our hands, you understand.”
“I know.”
“So why don’t you tell me how you ended up here and inside that school today before it burnt down.”
Zack let out a deflating breath. Barney Fife thinks I’m an arsonist. “Actually, sheriff, I didn’t go into the school until I saw that it was on fire. About thirty students can corroborate that. After I heard a teacher was inside, I went inside. After the fire started.”
“Why didn’t you go into the farmhouse?”
Zack opened his mouth but didn’t have an answer.
“A man was found dead inside the house. We think it was Mr. Johnston. You know him?”
Zack felt a wave of guilt shoot through him. His face turned white, and his hands felt clammy and cold. “Why would I know him?” Zack said at length. “I told you we had nothing to do with it. It was on fire when we drove past. We stopped, were about to call 911, and then heard the fire trucks coming.”
“So who called 911?”
“How would I know?”
Julie gently touched Zack’s bicep and rubbed it. She knew he was losing his temper.
“Well, someone did, and the call didn’t come from the house.”
“Sheriff, if we did start the fire, why the hell would we have still been there when the cops and firemen showed up?”
The sheriff thought about the answer. “Maybe you like watching it.”
Zack sighed. “And then we came here, started this fire, went inside the building and saved Molly Lockett and almost got myself killed. Yeah, that’s a plausible theory,” he said. “We didn’t do it. Ask the kids. We pulled into the parking lot, I saw smoke, saw flames through my binoculars then ran inside.”
