pulled him into the next stall, turning on the shower. He had to shout to
be heard above the noise.
“Get under the water and let it soak you, stay low, beneath
the smoke!” Robin followed his lead, shivering as the cold water seeped through
the cloth, sticking it to his skin. When they were wet John pulled the collar
of his T-shirt up over his nose and mouth, waiting while Rob did the same.
“Come on!”
They dropped to their hands and knees and crawled to the
door that Linda had used. Cuffed hands made him clumsy, the metal biting into
his wrists painfully every time he moved. Smoke oozed around the door’s edges.
Rob put the back of his hand against it, feeling heat radiate back at him. He
shook his head.
“No good. We’ll have to try the other door.”
It felt as if it took an eternity to make it to the door at
the other end of the changing room. By the time they reached it the smoke was
pressing down on their shoulders. This time the wood was cool to the touch.
Robin pulled the door open and they crawled into the large, airy room that held
the swimming pool. Smoke was just beginning to gather under the high ceiling.
The skylights taunted them with afternoon sunlight shining through the
yellowish murk. They stood and Rob led John around the edge of the pool to the
door at the far side. It opened onto a corridor with equipment stores at either
side. It was reassuringly smoke free. Coughing, they dashed to the fire door at
the end. John pushed on the bar, cursing when the door opened about an inch and
stopped.
“It’s jammed.” He stepped back and slammed his foot against
it, putting his weight behind it but it didn’t budge.
“Fuck. FUCK!” Robin threw a kick of his own at it. He forced
himself to calm down as panic threatened to overwhelm him again. His legs were
shaking with fear and exhaustion and adrenaline. “Okay. Can you see what’s
blocking it?”
He watched as John pressed his head against the door. “I
can’t see anything.” Gingerly he stuck his fingers into the gap, feeling around
the edges of the door. Finally he reached up to examine the spring-loaded arm
at the top that was designed to pull the door shut. “Here! This has been
tampered with. Try it now.”
Rob pushed the bar again and this time the door opened,
letting in a gust of smoke-tainted air. He blinked against the sunlight and
they stumbled toward the parking lot. Black smoke poured from the front of the
building and he could see flames dancing behind the soot-blackened glass of the
door. His chest felt tight and his ears were ringing with the sounds of the
fire alarm but they were alive.
Rob felt John’s solid warm presence at his back just before
the other man looped his arms around him. The autumn afternoon was filled with
the wailing of sirens as a fire truck and two police cars pulled into the
parking lot. The firemen flew into immediate action. Rob watched wearily as
they each performed their own task. One of them ran over, unhindered by his
bulky, fireproof gear, to ask if anyone else was inside. They told him that the
building was empty as far as they knew. Hot on his heels came a policeman. With
one glance he took in their sodden appearance and the handcuffs on their
wrists. Shortly after that Rob and John found themselves seated in the back of
one of the patrol cars and on the way to the station.
“You know, Mr. Grant, these are pretty serious accusations
you’re making.”
Robin didn’t bother to lift his head this time, leaving it
cradled on his arms on the Formica tabletop. He turned his head enough to look
at the silver-haired man sitting across from him. “Yes. I know.” He had been
answering the same questions over and over for what felt like hours. “It
doesn’t matter how many different ways you ask me the questions, Detective, my
answers will be the same. I really hope you’ve picked up Linda Shaw ‘cause I’m
going to be really pissed if she’s waiting in my apartment for me when I
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