It didn't
feel good.
"Go, Krishna," he said. "Get out of this house and get out of my sight
and don't ever come back again. Stay away from my brother. You will
never profit by your association with him. He is dead. The best he can
do for you is make you dead, too. Go."
And Krishna went. Slowly. Painfully. He stood and hobbled toward the
front door.
Mimi watched him go, and she smiled once he was gone.
Benny said, "Kurt's shop is on fire."
#
They ran, the two of them, up Augusta, leaving Mimi behind, wrapped in
her blanket. They could smell the smoke as soon as they crossed
Kensington, and they could see the flames licking out of the dark black
clouds just a moment later.
The smell was terrible, a roiling chemical reek that burned the skin and
the lungs and the eyes. All those electronics, crisping and curling and
blackening.
"Is he in there?" Alan said.
"Yes," Barry said. "Trapped."
"Call the fire department," Andrew said, and ran for the door, fishing
in his pocket for his keys. "Call 911."
He got the door open and left his keys in the lock, pulling his shirt up
over his head. He managed a step into the building, two steps, and the
heat beat him back.
He sucked up air and ran for it again.
The heat was incredible, searing. He snorted half a breath and felt the
hair inside his nostrils scorch and curl and the burning was nearly
intolerable.
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