“Boone!” Julia called from the corridor. “What’s your location?”
“Here!” I felt the floor shake with Julia’s weight. “I’m being eaten by a house cat!”
I pulled the claws free from my neck. Then tried to stand. My foot caught on a fallen joist, and I slammed into the doorframe as Julia reached the bedroom.
The ceiling rained down red-hot cinders.
“Come on, rookie!” Julia grabbed my jacket. “What in the hell’s stuck to your face?”
“A cat!”
“That ain’t no cat, you moron!”
“What is it?”
Julia laughed.
As we turned toward the kitchen, the ceiling collapsed behind us. Tons of gypsum board, cotton insulation, and two-by-eight inch rafters landed on the floor. The subfloor collapsed, opening a hole to the basement.
It quickly filled with fresh tinder for the fire.
Flames roared up from the basement.
The house began to shake.
“Move!” Julia half-lifted, half-dragged me out the kitchen to the back porch. “Hit us with the spray!”
Otto turned the hose on us. The spray knocked the heat off our turnouts. Steam filled my helmet.
The faux cat jumped off my head. It dropped to the ground, whipped a long bare tail, and hissed like it was saying, You want a piece of me?
When no one took up its offer, it bounded across the grass to an overgrown azalea bush.
“Looks like you rescued yourself a certified Carolina possum!” Julia pointed at the animal and laughed. “Charcoal colored, to boot.”
“Possum?” I removed my helmet. Sweat hit the scratches the possum had left on my neck. I winced from the sting. “Seriously?”
Otto called over his shoulder. “You about got yourself killed over a possum?”
“Thought it was a house cat,” I said.
“And why?” Lamar came up behind us. “Would you risk your life to rescue a goddamn cat? Why didn’t you just leave it there?”
Lamar was born and raised a farm boy. He had a hierarchical view of an animal’s value in the world. Humans was sacred and worth risking life and limb to save. Animals were good to have around, and you never willingly hurt one. But when it came down to it, no animal was worth the life of a human being.
“It sounded,” I said, “like a baby. How could I tell it was only a possum?”
“That ain’t good enough.” Lamar took my helmet away to examine the scratches. “Did I not tell you this house was abandoned? Did you not hear me?”
“You told me and I heard you,” I said, “but if the house is abandoned, how did all the buildings catch fire simultaneously?”
Lamar looked at the scorched possum, still frozen in fear but hissing a warning. He turned back at the fire, which radiated waves of heat. “That’s for the fire investigators to figure out. Like I told you a hundred times, we don’t ask how the fire started, just how fast we can put it out.”
“Like I told you,” I said, “I’ll never stop asking how.”
“Stick to your guns.” Julia patted my ass. “Even if you’re firing spitballs at a steel tank.”
Lamar handed my helmet back. “Find the first-aid kit in my truck and clean up that scratch. Get back to work ASAP.”
“Yes, Captain.” I headed for Lamar’s truck. I gave the possum a wide berth as it crouched in the shadows and continued to hiss. “Watch it, possum. I’ve got a pair of snips in the truck, and I’m not afraid to use them.”
“Hey, rookie,” Otto called to me. “Hold up.”
I turned to answer as Otto opened the hose full blast. A charged stream blew my helmet off, knocked me on my ass, and rolled me across the grass. Water shot up my nose and into my mouth.
I got up choking and spitting mad.
“Welcome,” Julie yelled as they all laughed, “to the brotherhood, Possum. Next time, don't be last man on site!”
5
A few minutes later, I had a tube of antibacterial ointment in one hand and a bandage strip in the other. I used the side mirror of Lamar’s truck to place the strip on my neck. My brain told my hands to go left, but they followed the mirror image instead, and I put the bandage on crooked.
I tore it off and sucked air between my teeth. “Damn! That stings.”
“Need a hand with that?” A man with a round potbelly in a white wife beater T-shirt appeared in the mirror. “Your hands are going all which way.”
“Hey, Stumpy,” I said. “Yeah, I can’t tell left from right.”
“I got that problem myself,” Stumpy tore open a new strip. “But it usually ain’t from looking into a mirror. This might sting some.”
“Tsss!” Yeah, it stung. More than a little. “What brings you out here?”
“Best watch for infection,” Stumpy gave the bandage a good slap. “Possums carry diseases, you know. This one feller I know got the gangrene from it and had to get his thumb amputated.”
Stump was well known in Galax, a good ol’ boy who could fix anything he wanted. If you could get him to want to. He dropped out of school to work the family farm, but then his daddy died and the government bought out the tobacco allotments. Folks said he gambled away most of the money and then drank up what was left.
“I was staying in that old Airstream trailer on the back of the property. I was the one who called in the fire.”
I caught his eye in the mirror. “You don’t say?”
“Don’t you go looking at me like that. Ain’t me who started it, I promise you that. I was sound asleep when the boom went off. Practically knocked me off the couch. Well, it did knock me off, if the truth be known, but I already greased the skids with a few cold ones.”
“Boom? You heard an explosion? Did you tell Lamar and the sheriff?”
Stump scoffed. “Like Hoyt’s going to listen to me.”
“But—“
“He’d say it was the Jagr bombs going off in my head. Jackass. He knows I quit hard liquor ages ago.”
“When was that?”
“Last month. Harder than it sounds.” Stumpy hocked a loogie and spat. “Listen here, I found a finger. “
“A human finger?”
“On my front porch. Right after I fell off the couch last night. Put it the freezer. Want to see it?”
“Absolutely! Show it to me.”
Stumpy half bowed, looking relieved. “Finally somebody believes me. Let’s go up to the trailer.”
Human remains! I’d been waiting forever for a human identification case. I followed two yards behind Stumpy, carrying my helmet in one hand. I pulling off my gloves when Lamar called me back.
“Boone! Where are you going? You’re still on duty, and there’s work to be done.”
“Jesus Christ. What now?” I stopped. My boots kicked up cinders in the soil. “This close. I was this close to seeing human remains.”
I waved to Lamar, who was directing Otto to wind the hose in a donut roll. The finger would have to wait. Cleaning up was an essential part of the job.
“You’re leaving?” Stumpy jogged past me. He began walking backwards. “Thought you believed me about the finger.”
“Definitely,” I said. “But you heard the captain. There’s work to be done. You going to be around later? I can come back after my afternoon class.”
Stumpy’s shoulders sagged. “Yeah, sure, right.”
“Scout’s honor.”
“You’re a Scout?”
“I have a Swiss Army knife.”
“Close enough. Shake on it.”
Stumpy stuck out a grimy hand, black with soot. His skin was so thin, the veins underneath looked like blood worms. When I shook to seal the deal, my own paw engulfed Stumpy’s. It felt as if a gentle squeeze would crush his bones.
“Boone!” Lamar bellowed.
“Got to go. Later!”
I tossed my gear inside the pickup and jogged back to the tanker. My first fire call. Flames! Explosions! And the icing on the cake, a human finger!
The presence of the finger could only mean one thing: An explosion had caused the house fire, and the blast had thrown debris all the way to Stumpy’s house.
This fire was intentional, and by god, I was going to prove it.