faded away to nothing as he took Claire’s extended hand and led
her toward the broken window. Her injured foot ached with a dull throb. By this
point, someone had stopped the fire alarm, but Claire could hear the high,
warbling wail of approaching sirens.
So this fire
is really serious ,
she thought, but she was amazed that she wasn’t panicking like everyone
else—everyone, that was, except Samael. He stood calmly by the broken window,
holding her hand and smiling at her.
Heavy, black
smoke filled into the restaurant now, and a sudden surge of panic made Claire
hurriedly step through the broken window. The glass and pieces of the window
frame snapped and cracked underfoot. Her enthusiasm dimmed when she saw the
narrow walkway running the length of the floating restaurant. Between them and
the parking lot…on dry land…there was a heavy curtain of smoke and the flicker
of orange flames, like tongues. A crowd had gathered in the parking lot, and
the early responders in black firefighters’ coats were coming down the gangway
to the restaurant with firefighting equipment.
“Look!” Claire
said, indicating the flames, shooting out from the restaurant between them and
safety. “It’s blocked. We can’t go that way.”
Samael looked
from her to the burning boat and then back to her again. His expression
remained impassive, as if he were in complete control of the situation.
“Maybe coming
this way wasn’t such a good idea,” she said.
“We may have
to jump into the water and swim for it,” he said, smiling. “You don’t mind
getting wet again, do you?”
She didn’t
appreciate the dig about how she had looked last night walking a half mile or
so in a downpour, but the good-humored gleam in his eyes reassured her, and she
laughed along with him.
She couldn’t
stop wondering why she wasn’t freaking out and how Samael was so calm…happy,
even.
The fire was
serious business. More fire trucks, their sirens wailing and emergency lights
flashing, pulled into the parking lot. The crowd grew larger as more and more
rubberneckers showed up. Tourists and residents alike were using their cameras
and cell phones to snap pictures and film the event.
The walkway
around the edge of the boat was narrow, and Claire was concerned that, with her
injured foot, she might lose her footing and fall into the harbor. She looked
down at the water, surprised to see—up close—how murky and dark and full of
pollution it was. An iridescent rainbow pattern of oil swirled along the
surface. When she noticed a partially submerged beer bottle bobbing up and down
on the swells, all she could think about was the other horrible, yucky
stuff—both natural and man-made—that had to be down there.
She’d need
shots if she ever fell into that water.
A deep
trembling fear filled her gut. But when she looked at Samael, those
feelings—well, if they didn’t go away exactly, they certainly subsided.
Samael had
that way about him.
“What do you
think?” he asked, still smiling like this was just another normal part of his
day.
When Claire
took a step away from him, pain shot up her leg from the wound on her foot.
Tears filmed her eyes as she realized exactly how dangerous this situation
truly was. She wondered about the other people in the restaurant…had they all
gotten out safely? Or were they trapped inside as the smoke filled the room and
flames swept toward them? They’d die of asphyxiation before the flames got
them.
This wasn’t a
casual adventure…a harmless lark.
This was some
serious shit.
“Come on,
then,” Samael said. He lunged forward and grabbed her by the wrist. His grip
was surprisingly strong and actually burned her skin as he jerked her forward
so hard she almost lost balance.
Is he
purposely trying to make me to fall? She wondered, but she felt remarkably
light, like a silk scarf, as he pulled her along with him. By this time, flames
were licking out of one of the portholes. As they approached it,
her toward the broken window. Her injured foot ached with a dull throb. By this
point, someone had stopped the fire alarm, but Claire could hear the high,
warbling wail of approaching sirens.
So this fire
is really serious ,
she thought, but she was amazed that she wasn’t panicking like everyone
else—everyone, that was, except Samael. He stood calmly by the broken window,
holding her hand and smiling at her.
Heavy, black
smoke filled into the restaurant now, and a sudden surge of panic made Claire
hurriedly step through the broken window. The glass and pieces of the window
frame snapped and cracked underfoot. Her enthusiasm dimmed when she saw the
narrow walkway running the length of the floating restaurant. Between them and
the parking lot…on dry land…there was a heavy curtain of smoke and the flicker
of orange flames, like tongues. A crowd had gathered in the parking lot, and
the early responders in black firefighters’ coats were coming down the gangway
to the restaurant with firefighting equipment.
“Look!” Claire
said, indicating the flames, shooting out from the restaurant between them and
safety. “It’s blocked. We can’t go that way.”
Samael looked
from her to the burning boat and then back to her again. His expression
remained impassive, as if he were in complete control of the situation.
“Maybe coming
this way wasn’t such a good idea,” she said.
“We may have
to jump into the water and swim for it,” he said, smiling. “You don’t mind
getting wet again, do you?”
She didn’t
appreciate the dig about how she had looked last night walking a half mile or
so in a downpour, but the good-humored gleam in his eyes reassured her, and she
laughed along with him.
She couldn’t
stop wondering why she wasn’t freaking out and how Samael was so calm…happy,
even.
The fire was
serious business. More fire trucks, their sirens wailing and emergency lights
flashing, pulled into the parking lot. The crowd grew larger as more and more
rubberneckers showed up. Tourists and residents alike were using their cameras
and cell phones to snap pictures and film the event.
The walkway
around the edge of the boat was narrow, and Claire was concerned that, with her
injured foot, she might lose her footing and fall into the harbor. She looked
down at the water, surprised to see—up close—how murky and dark and full of
pollution it was. An iridescent rainbow pattern of oil swirled along the
surface. When she noticed a partially submerged beer bottle bobbing up and down
on the swells, all she could think about was the other horrible, yucky
stuff—both natural and man-made—that had to be down there.
She’d need
shots if she ever fell into that water.
A deep
trembling fear filled her gut. But when she looked at Samael, those
feelings—well, if they didn’t go away exactly, they certainly subsided.
Samael had
that way about him.
“What do you
think?” he asked, still smiling like this was just another normal part of his
day.
When Claire
took a step away from him, pain shot up her leg from the wound on her foot.
Tears filmed her eyes as she realized exactly how dangerous this situation
truly was. She wondered about the other people in the restaurant…had they all
gotten out safely? Or were they trapped inside as the smoke filled the room and
flames swept toward them? They’d die of asphyxiation before the flames got
them.
This wasn’t a
casual adventure…a harmless lark.
This was some
serious shit.
“Come on,
then,” Samael said. He lunged forward and grabbed her by the wrist. His grip
was surprisingly strong and actually burned her skin as he jerked her forward
so hard she almost lost balance.
Is he
purposely trying to make me to fall? She wondered, but she felt remarkably
light, like a silk scarf, as he pulled her along with him. By this time, flames
were licking out of one of the portholes. As they approached it,
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