Knight Vision by Alice Bienia

Author:Alice Bienia [Bienia, Alice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cairn Press
Published: 2022-02-03T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-NINE

“Jorja. It’s Tara. Have you seen the news?”

Heart in my throat, I strode across the room and picked up the remote. “No, what happened?”

“There’s a fire. At Misty’s shop.”

I flipped to the news channel and turned up the volume.

“We’re bringing you news from a situation unfolding now in Kensington. The historic McLaren block is engulfed in flames. Fire crews are battling the blaze, and crews on scene are working to prevent the fire from spreading to surrounding buildings. No news of any injuries at this time. The building was currently undergoing a renovation and only two tenants remained in the building. We are hoping everyone got out okay and that there are no injuries. We’ll keep you updated throughout the evening. Back to you, Lisa.”

I was in my car and out on Fourteenth Street before realizing I had no recall of leaving the condo or saying goodbye to Tara. Misty’s building was on fire. I glanced over my shoulder and spotted my purse and phone on the back seat and breathed a sigh of relief. I turned onto Glenmore, a plume of black smoke now visible over the downtown area. The knot in my gut grew bigger.

Traffic was impossible as I got closer to the downtown core. A combination of road closures in and out of downtown, due to construction, and several lanes now closed around the burning building brought traffic to a standstill. I pulled off Macleod Trail on Twenty-Fifth Avenue and found street parking. I tried Misty’s number while I hustled over to the Erlton C-Train station and jostled my way out onto the train platform with the other commuters.

I tried calling Misty once on the train. Again, no answer. I got off at the Eighth Street station and made my way north. Traffic was gridlocked in all directions. A helicopter buzzed overhead. The stench of smoke was thick now.

A news update said Tenth Street was cordoned off to traffic in both directions and police were starting to route drivers away from the Tenth Street bridge. My brain chatter grew louder. Did Misty know about this? She must. I called Tara, hoping I hadn’t rudely hung up on her. She didn’t answer her phone either. The adrenaline kicked in, leaving me feeling jittery, like I had consumed way too much coffee.

I joined the foot traffic making its way out of the downtown and hit a bottleneck at Memorial Drive. Despite the Traffic Police urging pedestrians to continue moving forward, a crowd had gathered. Flames still licked the side of the building and an occasional tongue of orange shot out from the roof. Black smoke billowed out of the upstairs windows and seeped from between the cracks in the brick. Misty’s shop windows were already cracked and blackened with soot. The building wasn’t going to survive. I rushed down the block and joined the onlookers at the barricade that had been set up on Tenth Street. At least five firetrucks were on the scene, perhaps more around back.

“Is it

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