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With his jaw hanging open, James stared, unsure how the fire could have spread from the office to the upstairs room so quickly.
Perhaps it was no knocked over candle that caused this… What if it was done on purpose?
“James, people are still inside.” Marina was pulling on his shoulder in panic. “Look.”
Some men were outside now, most having made it through the doors, but others had opted for the windows like James and Marina, making scrambling escapes and dropping to their knees in their drunkenness. James stepped forward, searching through the faces around him, before he realized one face in particular was missing.
Where’s Michael?
“Michael,” he said aloud, turning to face Marina. Her eyes were wide, and her cheeks pale.
“He’s not here,” she said, seeing exactly what he feared. James stepped away, back toward the building. “James, no!” She pulled on his arm with sudden desperation. “You cannot go back in there, please.”
“I cannot leave him in there. I cannot do it.”
“But…” She hurried in front of him, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “I won’t see you hurt.”
“Marina.” His voice softened as he hurriedly raised a hand to her cheek. “I’ll be fine.”
“You don’t know that.”
His heart thrummed in his chest to hear that she cared so much for him. When they were first wed, their connection was such a slim one he never thought it would come to this, but now? Everything was different. She seemed as caught up in the idea of his safety as he was in hers.
“I still can’t leave him. Marina, I’ll be back, I promise. Just stay with the others,” he pleaded. She didn’t release him right away, but he kissed her quickly. The shock of that kiss made her release him, so he had a chance to run back to the window.
Clambering inside, James looked around the hall. To his horror, he could see the flames spreading on one side of the gambling hall. There was a gambler still at a table, so in his cups he had no idea what was happening around them. He was merely looking through the cards in his hands.
“Old fool.” James sprinted toward him and grabbed him under the arms, hauling him to his feet.
“What are you doing? I have a right to be here, I’ll have you know. I’ve paid my way!”
“Do you want to die in a fire?” James barked at the man, steering him toward the doors. At last, the man’s eyes turned to the flames. They widened in pure terror, the whites of his eyes almost yellow with the reflection of those flames. “Get out!”
The man hurried away from James, stumbling down the front steps that led up to the building and into the hands of some of the staff. James looked at those faces, but he still couldn’t see Michael.
Unable to get closer to the flames, James covered his face with the sleeve of his tailcoat, trying his best not to breathe in the stench of the smoke. The fire was like a wall of heat, ever moving forward. James backed up, opting for the door he and Marina had used earlier to get to the corridor.
He almost tripped over the figure of Michael prostrate on the floor.
“Michael!” James called to him, bending down and reaching for his friend. There was a little blood at the base of Michael’s head. James reached for Michael’s pulse; it was strong, and Michael began to move. “Michael! Wake up.”
Overhead, James could hear the fire raging. Looking to the stairs, he saw the flames were on the landing, coming down each step as if each lick of the flame was the foot of a demon, hurrying to its destination.
“Sorry about this, Michael.” As his friend was unable to stir fast, James grabbed his arm and hauled him to his feet. Michael was bleary eyed, blinking madly, dizzy from the wound to his head. James looped Michael’s arm around his shoulder, and rather than come back the way he had come in, he made it for the nearest door, the one at the back of the building.
They burst out of it with James kicking the door open. They fell into the alley as Michael roused more, coughing and spluttering on the smoke he had inhaled.
“Arson.”
“What?” James asked as he wrapped Michael’s arm tighter across his shoulders and hauled his friend around the building.
“I caught a man upstairs, James,” Michael hurried to say, his voice croaky from the smoke he’d breathed in. “Masked man. He was setting the place on fire. I chased him, followed him, lost him on the stairs, then… all went black.”
“He hit you.” James explained, watching as Michael lifted his other hand to touch the wound on the back of his head. “We need to get you to a doctor.”
They appeared out the front of the building. James’ eyes shot to the crowd where all of his customers were pointing at the building, gushing and bemoaning the loss of their favorite haunt. Some pointed at the flames bursting out of the windows, others called for the fire service to come, demanding to know why they weren’t here yet with their hooks to drag down roof tiles and stop the fire spreading to nearby buildings.
James didn’t care about any of it at that moment. The gambling hall was bricks and mortar. He only thought of Michael as he lowered him down to the curb on the other side of the street. Michael couldn’t focus properly, his eyes moving away from James’ face and to the building, scarcely landing on one thing at a time.
