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The
boiler
pressure
gauge
stood
at
two
hundred
and
ten
pounds
per
square
inch
.
He
fancied
he
could
almost
see
the
sides
of
the
old
patched
and
welded
boiler
heaving
out
with
the
lethal
strain
.
(
She
creeps
…
I
’
d
be
scared
to
come
down
and
stand
next
to
her
at
a
hundred
and
eighty
…
)
Suddenly
a
cold
and
tempting
inner
voice
spoke
to
him
.
(
Let
it
go
.
Go
get
Wendy
and
Danny
and
get
the
fuck
out
of
here
.
Let
it
blow
sky
-
high
.
)
He
could
visualize
the
explosion
.
A
double
thunderclap
that
would
first
rip
the
heart
from
this
place
,
then
the
soul
.
The
boiler
would
go
with
an
orangeviolet
flash
that
would
rain
hot
and
burning
shrapnel
all
over
the
cellar
.
In
his
mind
he
could
see
the
redhot
trinkets
of
metal
careening
from
floor
to
walls
to
ceiling
like
strange
billiard
balls
,
whistling
jagged
death
through
the
air
.
Some
of
them
,
surely
,
would
whizz
right
through
that
stone
arch
,
light
on
the
old
papers
on
the
other
side
,
and
they
would
burn
merry
hell
.
Destroy
the
secrets
,
burn
the
clues
,
it
’
s
a
mystery
no
living
hand
will
ever
solve
.
Then
the
gas
explosion
,
a
great
rumbling
crackle
of
flame
,
a
giant
pilot
light
that
would
turn
the
whole
center
of
the
hotel
into
a
broiler
.
Stairs
and
hallways
and
ceilings
and
rooms
aflame
like
the
castle
in
the
last
reel
of
a
Frankenstein
movie
.
The
flame
spreading
into
the
wings
,
hurrying
up
the
black
-
and
-
blue
-
twined
carpets
like
eager
guests
.
The
silk
wallpaper
charring
and
curling
.
There
were
no
sprinklers
,
only
those
outmoded
hoses
and
no
one
to
use
them
.
And
there
wasn
’
t
a
fire
engine
in
the
world
that
could
get
here
before
late
March
.
Burn
,
baby
,
burn
.
In
twelve
hours
there
would
be
nothing
left
but
the
bare
bones
.
The
needle
on
the
gauge
had
moved
up
to
two
-
twelve
.
The
boiler
was
creaking
and
groaning
like
an
old
woman
trying
to
get
out
of
bed
.
Hissing
jets
of
steam
had
begun
to
play
around
the
edges
of
old
patches
;
beads
of
solder
had
begun
to
sizzle
.
He
didn
’
t
see
,
he
didn
’
t
hear
.
Frozen
with
his
hand
on
the
valve
that
would
dump
off
the
pressure
and
damp
the
fire
,
Jack
’
s
eyes
glittered
from
their
sockets
like
sapphires
.
(
It
’
s
my
last
chance
.
)
