“I’m going in,” he shouted, over the roar of flames.
“No, Sir!”
But Jacob was already running. Leaving Parker to juggle Skidrow Sid, Jacob smashed his way through the half open door between the exploding liquor store and the gutted bakery. He dashed up a small flight of stairs, running his fingers along the wall in the dark, then broke out into an open foyer on the first floor. Overlooking the Bowery street, ancient stained-glass windows rattled and cracked with the vibration of the fire growing in the building’s bowels. Dodging small tables and chess boards, Jacob skidded across tiled floor. He passed a wooden reception desk. On the wall behind it, dozens of keys rattled on hooks against the wall. He pushed through another hanging door and raced along a dark hall, shouting as he went. Boarding rooms lined both sides of the hall. They were empty. He kicked open each door to find a tiny space only big enough for a worn mattress. Above each bed, shelves were stacked with paper bags of meagre possessions. Clothes were strung across the ceiling on rope lines, and above them, a chicken wire ceiling was insulated with layers of old newspaper. The place was a tinder box. He had reached the end of the first floor. About to turn back, Jacob saw a flash of skin through the last door.
“Hey!” He pushed through to find an old man in a dirty singlet, sitting on his bed hugging a brown paper bag. “The building's on fire! You have to get out!”
The old man looked up at him. “Nope,” He declared happily. “I’m waiting for my lady. Pretty as they come, she is. An angel. I ain’t leaving ‘till she comes and takes me away!” His stubble shuddered when he spoke. He was smiling, his eyes vague and glassy.
“Please!”
“Nope.” The old man sat back on his bed and hugged his bottle even tighter.
“Let me help you,” Jacob cried. “Get out while you still can. This place is going up in smoke. Hurry!” The shouts of the men on the third floor were getting frantic.
“Ain’t going nowhere! I’m happy as a clam at high water. Go on, off with you then.”
“We’ll find you a new home, I promise.” Jacob pushed forward to grab the man. “But you have to come with me.”
“You keep away now!” The old man suddenly growled, pulling a walking stick from the junk beside his bed and whacking the mattress. “I mean it! I’m waiting for my lady friend.”
The men upstairs were screaming.
“I’ll be coming back for you!” Jacob shouted, cursing the senile old tramp as he turned. He doubled back, racing down the empty hallway to the foyer. He took the stairs two at a time. The smoke from the shop below was coming through the floorboards. His leather soles were burning on the floor. From somewhere below the roar of flames and cracking timber, he could hear Parker shouting his name. Jacob raced along the second floor, kicking through doors as he went. Bags of possessions were piled high on the unmade beds, but the sheets were empty. Only the threat of violence would have forced the boarders into the freezing winter night. Jacob guessed they had scattered like mice at the first sight of gang warfare on the streets below. He raced back, stumbling in the thickening smoke and held his crooked elbow against his nose and mouth as he took the third and final staircase at a gallop.
Frantic banging came from the end of the hall. Jacob raced toward the sound, coming to a halt outside a door tucked away in an enclave to the right. A fading sign screwed into the paneling to the side of the door, indicated it was a bathroom. Jacob tried the doorknob, but it wouldn’t budge. Something heavy was on the other side of the door preventing it from opening. On the inside, the men were calling for help, their voices hoarse against the roar of the fire only a floor below. Now, the third-floor hallway was choking with smoke. Jacob smashed up against the door side on. His shoulder felt a little give as he came away. As he pulled back to try again, someone grabbed his arm. Parker.
“Something’s behind it!” Jacob yelled, and held up his fingers. Three. Two. One.
Together, they rammed the door, their shoulders slamming against the solid wood with all their combined strength. The thing behind it shifted. The door pushed open a few inches. Steam and scalding hot water flooded out of the gap.
“Again!” Jacob yelled.
Smash! With their combined strength, Jacob and Parker forced the door further open. A flood of boiling water now washed out of the room, spilling down the hallway. Half- hidden behind the door, a massive cast iron radiator was on its side, spewing water and steam in equal measure. The metal end had a gaping hole. Jacob guessed that years of freezing and lack of maintenance had caused the hairline cracks inside to finally succumb to the pressure. The exposed inner walls of the broken metal were thin and corroded, eaten away by minerals and gasses over a lifetime. The shut-off valve had blown away, and the boiling water sprayed like a firehose, blocking the doorway. On the other side of the bathroom against the far window overlooking the street were two old men. They were dripping wet from their stubble, ratty clothes soaked. One was leaning forward, supported by the other. His exposed skin was bright red, burned. Jacob guessed he’d been closest to the radiator when it exploded. Now it was blocking their only way out, and the building was on fire.
Without missing a beat, Jacob turned and ran back up the hallway, leaving Parker coughing in the steam and rising smoke of the half-closed doorway, balanced on the tips of his toes as boiling water streamed around his boots. From one tiny bedroom to the next, Jacob raced, tearing sheets from any bed that still wore them. Dirty towels, abandoned clothes, thin blankets – whatever he could find. With his arms overflowing, he dashed back up the hallway to the bathroom. He found Parker shoving against the door again, sliding the metal obstruction further into the room. Taking a huge breath, Jacob threw himself around the corner, his payload held in front of him, prepared for the boiling water and steam to assault his face and arms. He dropped the mass of fabric onto the open hole of the radiator, covering the metal gash and missing valve. For a moment, the blistering wound was closed.
“Run!” he shouted. Timber creaked and cracked underneath their feet as he and Parker dashed forward to help the men escape. Around them, the graffitied wallpaper was slipping down the walls, peeling away like steamed flesh from bone. The burned man cried out against the pressure on his skin as Jacob and Parker hoisted his arms over their own shoulders and dragged him back out of the bathroom, the other man hobbling behind. They felt their charge slump. He’d fallen unconscious. A blessing.
They dragged his dead weight along the hallway. The old dog behind them wracked with coughing as they stumbled along, elbows over their noses and mouths. But there was no protection from the smoke, which now billowed, grey and thick from the staircase. They passed dozens of boarding rooms on either side of the hall. The shelves above the beds, stacked with keepsakes would soon be tinder.
They made it to the top of the stairs.
“I’ve got this one,” Jacob shouted to Officer Parker. “Help me get him on my back!” The young policeman helped wrangle the unconscious man across Jacob’s shoulders, then turned to assist the second resident himself. Step by step, they made it down the stairs to the second floor. The depths of the hallway beyond were thick and roaring with the fire that tore its way up from below. The shrill hiss of more boilers heating to bursting point came from beyond.
Down, down.
Step by step.
The first floor. They took off across the foyer to the final staircase. The fire had broken through the floor and fled up the walls now, engulfing the reception desk. The wall behind it collapsed in bright orange and the rattling keys spilt into the abyss below. Ahead of them, shatters of glass sounded as the stained-glass windows overlooking the street exploded out. Tiles underfoot cracked like popcorn. Jacob, Parker, the unconscious man and his companion made it to the final stairway.
Down, down.
Step by step.
They emerged in a gasping heap, between the narrow liquor store and the hollowed-out bakery next door. A rush of police officers
relieved Jacob of his weight. Jacob bent forward, as the old men were carted off. All around, firemen were shouting. Huge hoses were being rolled out and secured. For a fleeting moment, Jacob felt relief.
And it was then that Jacob remembered.
“The old man!” he shouted to Parker. His eyes were wide. “On the first floor, he wouldn’t leave!” Officer Parker stood up straight, recovering from a coughing fit.
“What?”
“An old man!” Jacob repeated. “First floor!” Without another word, Jacob turned and disappeared back inside the ravaged flophouse.
All around him, the walls were burning now. He forced himself on, though he could barely see where he was going.
Up. Up.
Step by step.
He emerged into the first-floor foyer and took off full pelt into the smoke. There was no light now, electricity gone. With his crooked elbow over his mouth, he pushed forward into the pitch dark until he finally reached the last room where the old man had been sitting on his bed. Jacob turned, ready to fight him into cooperation if need be. But the bed was empty. The man was gone.
Jacob turned back to the hallway, calling for him as he ran.
“Sergeant!” came a voice through the darkness. Parker’s figure appeared at the end of the hall. He was waving frantically. Jacob moved towards him, feeling weaker and weaker as the smoke filled his lungs. His head was swimming. The foundations of the building were trembling. From above, pieces of plaster were raining from the ceiling.
Crack!
A huge beam came crashing down through the ravaged ceiling, knocking Jacob off his feet. He sprawled onto his belly as the beam settled across his legs, pinning him to the floor.
“Sir!” A plaster cornice fell from the ceiling, hitting Parker’s shoulder. The young man stumbled. He fell, regained his footing and dove forward. He tried desperately to lift the beam from his Sergeant’s legs. It wouldn’t budge. Jacob was trapped.
Jacob lifted his shoulders as high as he could off the floor. He looked at Parker, who was on his knees in front of him. Their eyes met. Jacob knew there was no way he was getting out of this alive.
“Get out!” Jacob growled. “Get out of the building now, that’s an order!”
Parker didn’t move. He scrambled to his feet and tried once more to lift the ceiling beam.
“Parker, the place only has minutes left. Get out now!”
“Not leaving, Sir!” Parker shouted back. “But it’s too heavy. I can’t budge it.” He looked around frantically. “I need a lever! I’ll be back!” Parker disappeared back into the smoke, leaving Jacob alone on the floor.
He closed his eyes, dizzy. The smoke was filling his lungs. His chest was screaming for oxygen and his mind was drifting in the swirling smog. He was floating –
He struggled against the darkness behind his eyes.
Suddenly, Jacob felt the beam lighten. The pressure on his legs released.
“Jake!” A voice came to him, as if from far away. “Jacob!” It was getting louder and louder.
“Parker?” His throat was parched, raw. Jacob twisted around as far as he could. Forced his eyes open. Betty’s face swam into view, hovering above his own. She appeared otherworldly, like a beautiful mirage in the thick smog. Her hair was pinned up under a red scarf, tied in a knot at the top. Bright red lipstick. Her blue eyes shining incandescently through the haze. She was smiling down at him. Like an angel.
I’m dying, he thought. And I see her. Of course, I see her. He closed his eyes again.
Why fight such a perfect death?
“You’re not dying, Jake!” the voice said, more urgently now. “But you will unless you snap out of it. Come on, where’s your sense of adventure? Fight back!”
Jacob opened his eyes again. Betty was still there, but this time he saw her as she really was. She was filthy, bruised. Her face covered in soot and scrapes. Jacob followed the line of her pale neck down to her navy-collared shoulders. The dead weight of the huge ceiling beam lay across them, supported by her slight frame. She grinned.
“You didn’t think you could escape me this easily, did you darling?”
Jacob tried to speak but fell into a wracking cough.
“Come on, pull yourself out. I can’t support this beam for too long, it’s actually quite heavy you know.”
Gathering his strength, inch by inch, Jacob dragged himself out from under the beam using his elbows. Finally, his feet cleared it. He twisted around and sat up, panting against the wall.
“Well done, Jake.”
With a resounding crash! Betty dropped the beam back down into the place he had just been lying. Underneath it, the floorboards cracked and groaned as they threatened to give way.
“I think it’s time we got out of here.” Betty brushed off her hands, then held one out to bear Jacob’s weight as he rose. As he did so, they both turned around to find Officer Parker standing there, staring with incredulous eyes.
“Holy cripes on toast!” Parker croaked. His mouth was hanging open at Betty’s feat of strength. The smoke caught his throat and sent him into another coughing fit.
“I think we’d better discuss this later, Officer Parker, if you don’t mind,” Betty said, briskly. “Lead the way, please, before we’re all burned to a cinder. I’m not immune to flames, you know.”
A searing pain shot through Jacob’s right leg as he tried to bear weight on it. He groaned and began to limp forward.
“Sorry,” Betty said, “no time for that!”
“You’ve been following me all night, haven’t you?” Jacob groaned, as Betty flung him over her shoulder in a fireman’s lift.
“Only the last hour or so,” she puffed. “Before that I had my hands full with a rabble of Micks in Rivington street.” After a pause, she added, “– don’t worry, I knocked the streetlights out first. Even the lookouts didn’t see me coming.”
“I knew I was a little too lucky with some of those bullets,” Jacob sighed.
“You both were.”
At this, Officer Parker stumbled.
“You were helping me too?”
“Of course, Officer Parker,” Betty said. “We’re friends, you and I… at least I’d like to think so.”
“Oh.” He was stunned. “Right then.”
Officer Parker continued feeling his way along the pitch-dark hallway, stumbling to reach the foyer. Betty was inches behind. Jacob hung over her shoulder; his teeth gritted in pain.
They made it to the end. As they turned out into the foyer, a great wave of fire swept across their path, forcing them back.
“It’s only going to get worse,” Betty shouted. She slipped Jacob back down onto his feet. Parker raced back to help support his weight.
“Ready?” Betty shouted.
Jacob clenched his jaw in anticipation of the pain he knew was coming.
“Run!”
They half-dragged him across the blazing foyer as the flames rose and dipped, ducking low as the building began to implode upon itself. Tiles exploded under their feet and the walls around them blazed orange and black. The stained-glass windows had blasted out onto The Bowery and a rush of black smoke billowed from the yawning façade they left, as great geysers of water shot back in from the street below. The Moonshine Motel was an inferno.
Down, down.
Step by step.
Together, they burst through the front door. The street was in an uproar. Firefighters and police officers were running to and ‘fro; shouting as great hoses were being aimed and straggling fighters were being arrested and dragged away.
Officer Parker and Betty pushed through the panicked throng, into the night beyond.
An old man was standing alone by a smashed streetlight, hugging a brown paper bag.
“I knew you’d come.” The old man grinned as they drew close. He pointed his walking stick at Betty, then at Jacob. “What did I say? I said my lady would come for me and she did.” The man sway
ed a little and put down his stick for balance.
“You’re off your rocker,” Jacob growled. “You could have died in there, soused to the gills and refusing to budge!”
“Didn’t want you,” the old man twinkled. He turned to Betty. “My angel, this one. Always turns up.”
“And I always will, Herb,” Betty winked. “Off with you now. Find somewhere to curl up for the night.” She pulled a five-dollar note from the pocket of her dark blue utility coveralls. “And buy something warm to fill your belly before you do.”
“My angel,” Herb said, with a twinkle in his eye and a toothless grin. He shoved the note in his trouser pocket. “I knew you’d come.”
“Mad,” Jacob muttered. “I nearly died trying to save that old geezer.”
“‘Night Herb,” Betty said. “I’ll see you again soon.”
“Goodnight, my angel.” Herb waved and shuffled away, still muttering to himself as he disappeared into the night.
“Please, Officer Parker,” Betty said. “Follow me.”
The three of them pushed their way through the crowd into the darkness of the street. The broken streetlights aided their escape from prying eyes. All around them, the earlier chaos seemed to be reigning in. The fire had spread to the hallowed-out bakery next door and had given the last of the Bowery Boys enough of a diversion to scuttle back into the cracks of the city. Betty sat Jacob down in the stoop of an abandoned shop doorway.
“Parker –” Jacob began.
“I imagine you have questions, Officer Parker,” Betty interrupted. She smiled at him. The young man looked exhausted. Defeated. It had been a long, dangerous night and dawn was only a cuckoo’s call away. For a moment Parker stood mute, watching her with careful eyes.
“You imagine right,” he sighed. “I knew you were – something – but lifting up that beam like that – it would have taken three men to do the same thing.”
“I did say I was not entirely ordinary, didn’t I, Officer Parker? Perhaps it’s for the best though. You deserved to know a long time ago. And if we’re being honest, I think, in your heart, you already did.”
Parker considered this. “Well, thank you anyway, ma’am. For trusting me with the truth.”
Lady Vigilante (Episodes 16 – 18) (Lady Vigilante Crime Compilations) Page 11
