Chapter 20: Smoke

Laney's POV

The shop roof was burning from the back corner, and the sky above it was orange.

Boone was down the stairs before I had my boots laced.

I ran after him through the kitchen and out into the heat, and Crows were pouring out of the clubhouse with fire extinguishers.

"Hoses!" Boone shouted. "Back of the shop! Get the bikes out of the east bay!"

The tall biker and the man with the prosthetic hand were already hauling a bike through the door, coughing.

Somebody ran past with a bucket.

Somebody else called the fire department, and I heard him say the address twice, loud and flat.

I stood in the gravel with my heart going.

Then I saw the young guard sitting against the wall of the shop.

He had his hands held out in front of him, palms up, and the skin on them was bright red and shining.

I was beside him before I knew I had moved.

"Let me see," I said.

"I tried to get the door open," he said. "It was hot. I didn't think."

"What's your name?" I asked, because he had never told me, and a nurse always asks.

"Doesn't matter."

"It does. Stay with me."

I dragged him to the water spigot on the clubhouse wall and put his hands under the stream.

"Cold," I said. "Keep them there. Count to a hundred, slowly, and don't pull away."

"It hurts."

"I know."

"It really hurts."

"That means the nerves are working," I said. "Count."

He began to count in a thin voice.

The second man who reached me had burns up one forearm and a scorched beard.