Barefoot Bay: A Midsummer Night's Dream (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Vicky Loebel

Author:Vicky Loebel [Loebel, Vicky]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kindle Worlds
Published: 2017-04-05T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Mike saw Lane’s shocked gaze travel not to the fire but to the wisp of smoke collecting near the stairs and knew she was thinking of where her daughters could have been right now. He noticed Lacey Walker collecting the kids—Ashley, Gemma, Mima—under her wing and heard Clay Walker phoning 911. The building’s fire alarm began to shrill.

Mike’s own attention was racing through the building, mentally checking locked and unlocked doors.

Nick Hershey, also ex-military, voiced Mike’s thoughts. “Lane,” he said, “where else could people be?”

“Theater restrooms,” Tom DeMille offered. “I’ll go look.”

“Me, too.” Gussie went with him.

“Upstairs,” Mike answered for Lane. “Ashley, could anyone else have been in the apartment? Or in the stairwell?”

“No one. I’m positive. We checked the bedrooms before we left, just to be sure. And I locked the apartment door behind me.”

“Good job.” Clay Walker, Ashley’s step-dad, had a phone to his ear. “It’s the lightening,” he said. “They’ve got two other fires in Pleasure Pointe. The dispatcher wants me to stay on the line.”

Mike nodded. “I locked the cloakroom and utility closet myself, and I’ve been checking them.” The place was full of teenagers after all. “The stage door’s locked, but anyone could sneak under the curtain.”

A lick of flame broke through the top edge of the velvet drapes.

“That’s our cue, flyboy.” Nick punched Mike’s shoulder.

“OK.” Mike wasn’t going to argue with a Navy Seal. “We’ll check the stage.”

“Wait.” Lane shook herself. “I’ll come—”

“You’ll get your daughters out.” Mike kissed her fast and hard. “Put Clay in front and stand guard by the boat doors to keep people out. And make sure there’s room for fire trucks in the parking lot.

“We’re on it.” Lacey took Lane’s arm.

Mike pulled out keys, thumbing the mini-mag light on his keychain. “Side door.” No ducking under burning curtains. He led Nick partway up Lane’s staircase and pressed his own palm flat against the door to test for heat.

“You thinking flashover?” Nick asked above the shrilling alarm.

“Maybe.” The curtains might have restricted the flow of air to the stage, in which case opening the door could let in a rush of oxygen that set off a fireball. “Door’s not hot,” he reported. “We’re probably OK.”

Nick dropped and felt the crack along the sill. “No draft.”

“Right.” Mike unlocked the door. “I’ll open. You stand aside to pull me clear.” He turned the doorknob, preparing to dive for cover, but nothing happened.

Mike peered into the stage wings. Inside was darkness—emergency lights obscured by a high layer of inky smoke—lit by a ghastly flickering line of fire on the back wall.

“Hello!” Nick strode in. “Anyone here?”

The stage looked empty, but there were nooks and crannies everywhere.

“Kids hide from fire,” Nick said. “Look inside things. I’ll take the other wing.”

Mike signaled thumbs up and started opening cupboards, looking behind and under props. Knowing the theater better, he finished ahead of Nick. The room was definitely warming up.

There was a trap door operated by a handle on the back wall. Mike had played in the utility room under the stage as a boy.

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