Combustible (A Boone Childress Novel) Read Online Free Page A

and a narrow door leading to another room.
    The heat rose from the floor. It seeped through his boots. He had to move. The room was s till hot, although there was no obvious fire. He listened hard, seeking the cry again. It had come from this direction, he was sure of it. Despite what Lamar thought, the house was not empty.
    There! He heard it again .
    It sounded like a baby crying.
    Behind the narrow door.
    He reached for the brass knob without thinking. The metal was as ho t as a charcoal briquette. When he touched it, the heat burned straight into his insulated gloves.
    " Fuck!" he yelled through the visor. "That's hot!"
    What a stupid move. It was Fire School 101 stuff. Don’t touch anything with your body. Use a tool. But the hooligan was on the truck because he had run straight into a fire without it.
    Nothing to do about that now, he thought.
    Raising his size fifteen boot, he gave the door a roundhouse kick. The door blew off out its frame, swung wide on melted hinges, and collapsed onto the floor.
    "You're safe!" Boone yelled as he entered the bathroom .
    A blackened toilet sat to the left, and the tub was to the right. It was cast-iron with high sides. He heard the cry again and leaned over the edge of the tub to take a look.
    He expected to find a baby. What kind of baby, he didn’t know, but he definitely didn’t expect to see a large, black mass bristling at him.
    "Hiss!"
    Hiss?
    The quivering black mass stuck out its legs.
    Then its claws .
    I n one twisted, screeching moment, it launched itself from the tub into his face. It latched on with its claws, sinking them into the cowl that covered his neck.
    “Got off me !”
    Half blinded by the critter’s belly stretched across his face shield, Boone stumbled back into the bedroom and fell ass-first onto the floor. The cinders on the floor heated up his tailbone as he pulled at the animal, trying to break its grasp.
    The cat dug its claws in more deeply and still screaming, ripped the fabric of Boone’s gloves with its teeth.
    “SOS!” Boone called. Stupid ass cat, it was going to get them both killed!
    Boone climbed to one knee, the heat of the cinders seeping through his fire pants. He turned his head, trying to get a fix on his position.
    “Boone!” Julia called from the corridor. “What’s your location?”
    “Here!” Boone yelled back, as he felt the floor shake with Julia’s weight.
    He climbed to his feet again and managed to pull the claws free from his neck. His foot caught on a chunk of debris, and he slammed his shoulder into the doorframe as Julia reached the room.
    Above them, the ceiling rained down red-hot cinders.
    “Come on, rookie!” Julia yelled and grabbed Boone by the jacket. “What in the hell is stuck to your face?”
    “A cat!”
    “That ain’t no cat, you idiot!”
    Not a cat? What else could it be? There was no time for an answer .
    As they turn ed toward the back of the house, the ceiling collapsed behind them. Tons of gypsum board, cotton insulation, and two-by-eight inch rafters landed on the floor. The boards collapsed, opening a hole in the corridor. But it quickly filled with fresh tender for the fire.
    Flames roared, and Julia pulled hard on Boone to keep him from following the debris into the hole.
    “Move!” Julia grabbed Boone around the waist and half-lifted, half-dragged him out the backdoor.
    Otto turned the hose on them. The spray knocked the heat off their suits and the animal off Boone’s head. It dropped to the ground, whipped a long bare tail, and hissed. You want a piece of me ? it seemed to say. Then when no one took up its offer, it sprinted for a patch of crepe myrtles.
    “Looks like you rescued yourself a certified Carolina possum,” Julia said, pointing at the animal and laughing. “Charcoal colored, to boot.”
    “A possum?” Boone removed his helmet. The air hit the place on his neck where the possum had scratched him, and he winced from the sting .
    Otto called over his shoulder. “You