balance.
“Too bad for Winnie,” Uretsky said.
“What . . . what have you done?”
Uretsky made a little “tsk” sound with his mouth, as though he needed to recall some details that had gotten away from him. “Let’s see. . . . Oh, that’s right. . . . I gave Winnie a big narcotic cocktail and left her unconscious on the first floor of the warehouse that you just set on fire. I tucked her behind the big pile of trash nearest to the pallets, but I’m pretty sure the fire department won’t reach her in time. Well, at least she’ll die in her sleep—unless, of course, you go back to save her. Once again, I’m wishing you good luck, John. This time, you’re really going to need it.”
I looked behind me. Black smoke poured from the warehouse window. I watched as the smoke rose like the fingers of the devil’s outstretched hand, reaching up to scratch and scar a beautiful and cloudless sky.
CHAPTER 39
All I said to Ruby was, “Your mom.”
I broke into a run for the warehouse. At first Ruby kept pace with me, but she soon pulled ahead. She reached the warehouse door first and made a move to go inside. I grabbed her from behind and yanked her back.
“You can’t go in there!” I shouted.
Foul-smelling smoke continued to pour out the broken window and seeped from underneath the shuttered door, too.
“She’s my mother!” Ruby yelled back at me, her face twisted in agony.
“You’ll never be able to pull her out,” I said. “You don’t have the strength. Think about it! The drugs. The cancer. You’ll never get her out, and you’ll probably die trying. I’ll go.”
Ruby screamed, “No!” as I pulled the door open. A plume of smoke sent both of us staggering back several feet. Ruby yelled, “No!” again, but that was after I had vanished inside the burning building.
My first thought was that the movies made it look easy—cover your nose and mouth with your arm, get low to the ground, and go barging into a raging fire. What they don’t show is the survival instinct kicking in. They ignore the invisible wall that pops up and halts your advance the moment that first poisoned gulp of air slides down your throat. Your eyes close up and water, your lungs cough in rebellion, while the heat lashes at your skin and produces nearly intolerable pain. I felt every bit of that and more, and I’d taken only three steps inside. The fire had been raging for a grand total of two minutes. The fire department would be here in seven minutes at most, maybe sooner. But “sooner” might mean “too late.”
From behind me I heard Ruby screaming, “John! Mom!” She continued to call my name as I plunged deeper into thick plumes of smoke that turned the warehouse into the darkest night imaginable. The pestilent fumes burned my lungs. I fell to the floor, forced there if I wanted to breathe. Down low, I could see an inch or two in front of my face, but no more. Waves of heat washed over my body. Imagine holding a hand to a flame, unable to pull it back, not even after the skin begins to sear.
Bit by bit the pain ratcheted up.
One thought kept me going: Save Winnie. Save Ruby’s mom.
I crawled forward, moving an inch at a time, trying to orientate myself within this dark and alien world. How far in were those burning pallets? How far from that was the first pile of debris?
The only thing saving me was the size of the warehouse. Smoke was spreading out across the ceiling, with thousands of square feet still to cover. If Uretsky had put Winnie on the upper floors, it probably would have been easier to reach her. He knew that. The fire had yet to burn a hole into the ceiling. The accumulating smoke had no place to go but down on top of me, like a thick black curtain signaling the end.
Breathe.
Crawl.
Breathe.
I tried to scream, “Winnie!” but the smoke suffocated my voice. Even if I could have shouted, the snap and crackle of the fire would have drowned me out.
At this point I wasn’t thinking about being brave, or trying to make amends for what I’d done; I was thinking, I want to get the fuck out of here. That desire beat like a war drum in my head, getting louder and louder as I crawled farther from the exit. For a second, I