I find enough air to speak. "Where's Mum?"
The urgency in my voice frightens her. She takes a step back and sees the bloodstains on my shirt and the sheen of sweat. My bottom lip is swollen and the stitches are crusted with blood.
"She's downstairs in the basement. D.J. told me to wait here."
"Where is he?"
"He's coming back in a minute, but he said that ages ago."
I push her toward the front door. "Run, Charlie!"
"Why?"
"RUN! NOW! Keep running!"
The basement door is shut and wet paper towels have been pushed into the doorjamb. There is no key in the lock. I turn the handle and gently pull it open.
Dust is swirling in the air-the sign of leaking gas. I can't yell and hold my breath at the same time. Halfway down the steps, I stop to let my eyes adjust to the light. Julianne is slumped on the floor beside the new boiler. She's lying on her side, with her right arm under her head and her left reaching out as though pointing to something. A dark fringe has fallen over one eye.
Crouching next to her, I slip my hands under her arms and drag her backward. The pain in my chest is unbelievable. White dots dance in front of my eyes like angry insects. I still haven't taken a breath, but the time is close. I take the stairs one at a time, dragging Julianne upward and sitting down heavily after each exertion. One step, two steps, three steps…
I hear Charlie coughing behind me. She takes hold of my collar, trying to help me, pulling when I pull.
Four steps, five steps…
We reach the kitchen and Julianne's head bounces off the floor as I set her down. I'll apologize later. Hauling her over my shoulder, I roar in pain, and totter down the hallway. Charlie is ahead of me.
What is the trigger? A timer or a thermostat, the central heating, a refrigerator, the security lights?
"Run, Charlie. Run!"
When did it grow dark outside? Police cars fill the street with flashing lights. I don't stop this time. I scream one word, over and over. I cross the road, dodge the cars and get to the far end of the street before my knees buckle and Julianne falls onto the muddy grass. I kneel beside her.
Her eyes are open. The blast begins as a tiny spark in the midst of her deep brown irises. The sound arrives a split second later, along with the shock wave. Charlie is thrown backward. I try to shield them both. There is no orange ball like you see in the movies, only a cloud of smoke and dust. Debris rains down and I feel the warm breath of fire drying the sweat on my neck.
The blackened van lies upside down in the middle of the street. Chunks of roofing and ribbons of gutters are draped over trees. Rubble and splintered wood covers the road.
Charlie sits up and looks at the desolation. The note is still stuck to her forehead, blackened at the edges, but still legible. I pull her against my chest, holding her close. At the same time, my fingers close around the yellow square of paper and crush it within my fist.