Chapter 49 part 3

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William stepped closer, saw that Harold's face and arms were red. 

He put his left foot down and nearly crumpled.  His right arm was useless.  Blood flowed down his chest and back, immediately vaporized and caught fire.  He felt the heat growing inside the wound, pushed aside his desperate need for air and poured all his attention into fighting it.

Another step and he was within five feet of Harold.  The man didn't say a word, but William saw blisters pop out on his face and immediately burst as the temperature around them both continued to rise.

He forced himself forward, though he had nothing left.  All he could feel was pain, and it had taken all his energy away.  Behind Jared, he saw Bryan carry Jess out the door.  That was what mattered.  Bryan might be able to protect her from Smith, if only William could make sure Harold was dead.

*

Everything around Harold was fire.  He had never let it grow so much, gone so deep into it.  He had never made the air around him burn before.  It was so close and hurt so much to be near it, but the man hadn't died yet.  Somehow, he wasn't burning.  Harold would change that.

He had always been more careful than this, always kept his distance, respected the fire because he loved what it could do.  This time was different, it had to be.  He would stay close, push himself deeper into everything around him that wanted to burn.  He would bring everything together, and though he knew it would kill him, it would kill William Adams too.

Even though his eyesight was gone and he couldn’t see it, Harold felt the whole of the building calling out to him.  He felt everything that was in the fire, everything that was close to it.  It all wanted to burn.

*

Light flared from the open doorway behind him and Bryan felt the heat rush out the door.   He cursed when he saw that Meyers had taken his advice and driven Hayes to safety.  He'd known the necessity of it, but had hoped for some kind of miracle, some kind of backup that would help him get William out.  Though with the way the fire had just erupted, he didn't believe anyone could survive it.

He staggered the block to his car and tumbled down to a knee as he reached it.  Jess slid down from his shoulder as he opened the passenger door, but he caught her with both hands and kept her head from hitting the pavement.

He pulled her to a sitting position and was getting ready to haul her back up when he saw the shape on the passenger seat.  He skittered back, pulled Jess sideways away from the car.  He'd seen too many firebombs in the past week to be anything other than paranoid.  That troop of Jared's men would have had ample time and opportunity to leave him an explosive present.

He lowered Jess to the sidewalk and edged closer.  The weak overhead streetlights left the interior of the car dark, and he was nearly close enough to touch it before he could make out the nylon fabric, carry strap and multiple handles.

It was Meyers' gun bag.  He had left it for Bryan.

"Thank you, God," Bryan muttered as he dug open the bag.  The Sig lay on top.  He had thought that Meyers might stop to pick it up, and had also hoped to find it with a fresh clip, but it was empty.  He pushed it aside, dug deeper and his finger latched upon a heavy revolver.  He pulled it out and saw that the cylinder was ridiculously long, probably three inches.  He thumbed it open and saw five small shotgun shells loaded inside.  He'd read briefings on the gun before, it was called The Judge.  "Thank you, Meyers."

*

William's vision began to dim, turned black at the edges so that he could only see directly in front of him.  As Harold's skin turned black, he thought his vision was disappearing completely.  But the fire around him was just as bright.

William took one more step.  Harold fell toward him and William caught him in his left arm.  He felt the little man die in his arms, but had no fog around him to see the energy dissipate.  He looked up and saw a man with a rifle.

*

Bryan pocketed the gun and shoved the bag over to the driver's seat.  He grunted as he picked Jess up and wedged her into the passenger side of the car.  He shut her inside and prayed that more of the racists didn't show up.

He pulled the revolver out and ran back to the building.

As he neared the door, he had to raise his free arm to shield his face.  He didn't think he could force himself back in, the heat was so intense.

The white hot light that had been centered around William had burned away to a normal yellow burn.  Did that mean his friend was dead, that he was too late?

He squinted into the fire, and saw Smith there, his back to the door.

The racist took a step backward, closer to Bryan, the rifle held high again, aimed into the center of the fire.  If he was still looking to shoot something, his target would be William.  William might still be alive.

*

William heard only flame and could barely see anything, he was so hungry for oxygen.  He felt Harold's charred body disintegrate in his hands.  Without Harold feeding it, the fire had stopped trying to burn inside and around him, but he was exhausted and couldn't keep his focus on fighting the heat.  The temperature of the burning air on his skin could easily kill him if asphyxiation didn't.  But he knew that was wrong.  It wouldn't be either of those.

Outside the fire, he saw the shadow of a body tighten a rifle to its shoulder.  It would be Jared that killed him.

*

Jared let himself smile for a brief moment as he steadied his breathing.  The heat was torturous, but he had to stand it a moment longer.

He had hit the man.

What none of his men could do, not with shotguns or automatic weapons, he had done with his grandfather's rifle.  He had shot the man, and would again.

The detective, Mickelson, had escaped with the woman and had killed the two sentries, but Jared doubted they would get far.  All he had to do was hit this William Adams once more, and Jared would be out the door after them.  Mickelson had done a passable job of hiding himself in the factory, amidst all the crates, but that wouldn't help him on the street.  Jared would shoot this man, kill the detective and the woman, and get on with his work.

He squinted into the flame, cheek against the rifle stock.  He could tell that Harold was gone, had become fuel for his own fire and crumpled into ash.  That was unfortunate, but the work would go on.  All he had to do was kill William Adams.  He nuzzled his cheek closer and sighted the rifle.

*

(Author’s note:  So, did Meyers come through or did he come through?  But…what do you think?  Will it be enough?  Can Bryan do anything in time?  Thank you for the votes and notes.  Please check out http://www.hopebooksllc.com/buy for signed copies of the book! (They're on sale for two dollars off the regular paperback price!)

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