Page 25 of Ignited

She watched in astonishment as Boomer started pulling pre-shaped C-4 packs out of his vest pockets. He tossed two packs to his brother, one after the other, and then the detonators. “Top corners of the room,” he said. “Upward blast.”

“You’re going to blow it up?” No way.

Boomer stuck the two C-4 packs he’d kept for himself into the opposite two corners. Shit. He was really going to do it. She was starting to love this guy.

“There goes my security deposit.” Karisma took the cork out of the potion and raised it to her lips. Just as she took the first swallow, Boomer’s brother said, “Incoming!”

There was a revving of engines and a screaming of tires, and then a volley of gunfire shattered the front two windows of the cabin. Karisma ducked out of the way. Still woozy, she lost her balance and hit the floor, dropping the half-full potion bottle. It rolled away, losing its cork and spilling the glowing greenish-black liquid over the floor.

Boomer’s brother returned fire from the porch, and then dove through the front door and slammed it shut, wedging a straight chair under the knob. “So… we’re exiting through the storm cellar?” he called.

Boomer rolled his eyes. “Duh. I saw the outside doors in the foundation when we came past.”

Her respect for them both went up another notch. Most people would have missed that. “Trapdoor under the rug,” she said.

Boomer threw the rug back. His brother fired a volley of shots out the window and said, “I should have known this was going to end in one of your death-defying explody plans. Wasn’t one enough for the weekend?”

“You can never defy death too many times,” Boomer said, grabbing up the potion bottle off the floor and shoving it in his vest pocket. “And explosions are fun.”

Chapter 12

Boomer said, “Karisma, trapdoor. Bro, magic Barbie box.” As Karisma opened her mouth to protest, he said, “You can’t carry it in the shape you’re in. I got the rest of your stuff.”

He set one more tiny charge on the kerosene heater. Those things were already bombs waiting to go off—he’d never have one in his house. “Now,” he said.

He picked up Karisma’s duffel. Bro fired one more volley, then grabbed the magic toybox. They converged on the center of the room, where Karisma had already opened the trapdoor, exposing a dusty wooden staircase. Boomer shoved Karisma down first, then his bro with the fucking box.

He heard the order from outside: “Team! Ready to breach!”

Time to go.

Boomer slithered down the stairway into the basement, pulling the trapdoor shut behind him, and dove for the wall near the storm cellar exit. His bro and Karisma were almost there already. Boomer slammed into them, knocking them to the dirt floor, and hit the detonator switches one after the other.

Above them, the cabin exploded.

Lying there in the dirt, the earth shaking around them and dust raining down, he could see it in his mind. First the roof blowing off, and then the pretty, pretty fireball from the kerosene stove, lighting up the falling debris.

From underneath him, Karisma said, “I thought you were going to wait until we got out. Did you just seriously collapse my fucking cabin on top of us?” He felt her claws digging through his shirt.

“Watch the claws, Kitty,” he said. “And don’t worry, the floor will hold. Well, probably.”

“Probably?” That was more of a screech.

“I didn’t have time to do the math on all the forces and counterforces, because, you know, strike team about to kill us dead? So, keep your kitty toe beans crossed.”

His brother muttered, “I hate it when my life depends on math you didn’t do.”

Karisma asked, “Annnd, what about when the fire burns through the floor?”

“We’ll be gone by then,” Boomer’s brother said, crawling over and cracking open one of the slanted metal doors to the outside.

Karisma said to Boomer, “You are one crazy motherfucker. Next time, I’m in charge.”

Apparently, the plan was for them to exit the cellar doors while the strike team was picking themselves up off the ground and tending their wounded.

Although, Karisma had to admit it was a good call. Nobody noticed them.

The three of them sneaked across the clearing to the woods, staying low, and then made their way through the edge of the trees towards the dirt lane and the hidden truck.