me so focused on my goal, I forgot to be completely terrified. Perhaps that’s how real criminals feel before they commit their crimes—more amped than afraid.
Ruby locked her fingers together, and it seemed the adrenaline had got to her as well. Even in her weakened condition, she had no trouble giving me the needed lift. I set my forearms on the windowsill, relieving Ruby of my body weight, and clumsily used my elbow to push the remaining glass inside to clear away the jagged edges. I had just enough room to swing my body around until my legs dangled on the inside and my torso extended outward.
“Pass me a canister,” I called. I had my body perfectly balanced on the sill, making it easy to reach down and grab hold of the gas. I tossed the first canister into the warehouse, then the second, and soon enough I had all three of them down there. The rising vapor stung my eyes and burned the back of my throat, but that didn’t stop me from sliding off the sill as if I was being sucked down the gullet of some gas-breathing monster.
Ruby called, “John, are you all right?”
“I’m fine!” I shouted back.
The warehouse was dark inside except for places where the paper coverings on the windows had peeled back to allow slivers of light inside. Dust motes swam in and out of those light shafts, agitated by my presence. I took out the portable flashlight tucked in my back pocket and shone the beam around. The warehouse was nothing more than a big open space with concrete support columns staged evenly throughout.
Almost immediately, I saw the pile of broken wooden pallets Uretsky had instructed me to burn. I shone my flashlight around some more, wondering if I could spot one of Uretsky’s hidden cameras. I saw huge piles of debris scattered about, but I didn’t inspect them closely—there simply wasn’t enough time or reason. Nor did I worry that they would catch fire. Judging by the distance from the pallets, I felt confident the fire department would get here before the closest—and largest—pile could burn.
“Hello!” I yelled out. “Anybody here?” My heart was pounding in my chest, and my shaky voice mirrored my nerves.
Are you watching me right now?
I shone the light on my watch and shivered.
Six minutes to go.
CHAPTER 38
I used two of the gas containers to give the wood a good soaking and carried the third over to a rectangular border of light some thirty-odd feet to my right. I figured that light border was the same door I had tried to open from the street—the one Uretsky had promised was unlocked. Trying the knob, I found the door opened easily from the inside. A little bit of light spilled into the room, and that was when I noticed a stairwell to the other floors directly in front of me. Even though the pallets would burn for just a minute, I figured I should check the second and third floors for any people, as I had on the first.
I noticed the time before heading up.
Five minutes.
I climbed the rickety steps quickly, nervous that the flimsy boards would splinter from my weight. I got out on the second floor and shone my flashlight into the darkness. The upper level was a twin to the one below it. I jumped at the sight of a fat, hairy brown rat as it scurried in and out of my flashlight beam. I had a feeling it would escape the flames just fine. The wood floor creaked and groaned under my weight, and I wondered just how quickly it would burn if it caught fire. Very quickly, I decided.
But it won’t catch fire, because the fire department will get here in less than two minutes.
“Hello!” I shouted. “Anybody here? I’m not the police. Please answer me!”
I trained my flashlight on a few scattered piles of debris, just like below, but no movement. Again, only my echo answered back. I called out once more, and I waited—waited—but no answer. I looked at my watch.
Four minutes.
I raced up to the next level, the top level, and to save time, only popped my head out of the stairwell and repeated my call.
“Hello? Anybody here?”
My voice spilled into the darkness. I listened a few seconds for rustling noises, any movement at all, but heard nothing. As I descended the stairs, the powerful odor of gasoline reminded me I wasn’t a concerned citizen on the lookout for people in