D. MacHale - The Never War

That’s when I saw something strange.

Smoke swirled near the center of the room like a small tornado. The dark funnel moved up toward the ceiling, then shifted direction toward its destination-the door off the catwalk. My eyes followed the smoke and I realized that Saint Dane must not have closed the door all the way, because the twisting cloud of smoke was being sucked outside.

“There!” I shouted. “He left the door open!”

Without waiting for Spader, I ran for the metal stairs that led up to the catwalk. Spader was right after me. The fire had been raging for several minutes now. The heat was unbearable and the metal stairs were burning hot. I felt incredible heat through the soles of my shoes and had to force myself not to use the handrail. That would have fried my hands for sure. Because heat rises, with each step the temperature grew more intense. The smoke was getting bad too. It was tough to breathe. We had to move right through the swirling smoke that was being sucked out the door.

Finally we got up to the catwalk, and I ran for the door. I prayed I was right about it being open and kicked it. The door flew open. Yes! I turned to see Spader was right there with me. We ducked through the door and all I could hope was that it would lead outside.

It didn’t. We found ourselves in a long, narrow corridor. Choking smoke filled the narrow, dark space and made it impossible to know which way to go.

“Right or left?” I yelled.

“My eyes are burning, mate. Doesn’t matter. Just move!”

I took a chance and turned right and immediately saw good news and bad news. Good news was that in spite of the dark smoke, there was something to guide us forward. The wooden floorboards were so old that there were spaces between them. Through those spaces I could see fire below. It lit up the floor and kept us from running into the walls. But that was bad news too. If there was fire below an old wood floor, it meant the floor was going to burn. All the more reason to get out of there fast. I grabbed Spader’s hand and ran. I could only hope that we’d get to the end of the corridor and out before the whole floor caught fire.

We didn’t make it. After running about ten steps, I heard a loudcrack! It was the only warning we had that the floor was collapsing beneath us. A second later we both crashed through in a shower of sparks, smoke, and burning wood. The next few seconds were a blur. I’ll try to describe it as best as I can, but it happened so fast, I’m not sure I remember it all.

When we fell through the floor, I lost my grip on Spader’s hand. Fire was everywhere. I remember thinking that I was falling into the center of an inferno and that I was gonna roast. But the fire had been burning below for some time and the next floor down was already weak. When I landed, those boards gave way too, and I crashed through again. It was a miracle I didn’t break any bones.

The next thing I knew, I was underwater. The slaughterhouse had been built on a pier jutting out over the Hudson River. In a matter of seconds I went from fearing I was going to burn to death, to fearing I was going to drown. Somewhere in my fall I slammed my head pretty hard and couldn’t focus. I remember flaming chunks of stuff falling into the water all around me. There was a maze of pilings that must’ve held up the pier. Every way I turned I seemed to either hit one, or knock into burning debris from the firestorm above. I gulped water. I couldn’t breathe. I was exhausted and losing consciousness fast. My head kept going underwater and I was losing the strength to keep pushing myself back up.

Then things gotreallybad. I heard a loud, screeching sound from above. That could only mean one thing. The building was breaking up. The pier was going to collapse on our heads. I had just about given up any hope of getting out of there alive, when I felt a strong grip on my arm.

“Hold your breath!” Spader ordered.

I barely had time to gulp in some air before Spader pulled me under. I totally gave myself over to him and relaxed. While holding on to me with one hand, he swam with a strength that I couldn’t believe. No, who am I kidding? Sure I could believe it. Spader was part dolphin. If he wasn’t hurt, a swim like this was a piece of cake. I really hoped he wasn’t hurt, for both our sakes.

I didn’t know how long I could hold my breath, but I knew we were safer under the water than on the surface because I heard the sounds of the building above us collapsing. We had to keep moving and get out from under the structure if we had any hope of surviving. I don’t know how long we were below the water. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds because I don’t think I could have lasted more than that.

When we finally broke the surface, the first thing I remember seeing was the sun. The next thing I saw was Spader’s smiling face as he tread water next to me, looking as relaxed as if he were floating in a kiddie pool.

“Took a little knock there, did you, mate?”

I touched my forehead and felt the lump that was already forming. “I’m a little out of it,” I admitted.

“No worries,” he said. “On your back, I’ll tow you in.”

I didn’t argue. This was no time to be macho. I gladly let Spader pull me to shore. It only took a minute until we made it to a small, wooden dock. Spader dragged me up onto the platform like a wet doll. We made it. We were alive.

The two of us lay there, trying to get our wind back. After breathing in disgusting smoke for the last ten minutes, the air actually tasted sweet. I closed my eyes and focused on clearing my lungs. I was in pretty rough shape. Besides the slam on the head, I had cuts and burns all over my body. My clothes had protected me some, but they were now less like clothes and more like rags.

Spader spoke first. “It’s a horror, mate; it truly is.”

I opened my eyes and saw that he was staring at the burning slaughterhouse. The place was nothing more than a giant, twisted, flaming wreck. Black smoke billowed up and drifted out over the Hudson. I wondered why the fire department hadn’t shown up yet. My guess was they were afraid to come down to this neck of the woods.

“Farrow said this was a test,” Spader said through gasping breaths. “If this was just the test, what are they planning to do for real?”

That was the big question. What was their target? Saint Dane said we had all the clues, but I couldn’t put them together.

I saw that Spader was in just as bad shape as I was. His clothes were shredded and burned, and his arms were covered with scratches. “You okay?” I asked.

“I will be just as soon as we finish off Saint Dane,” he said angrily.

“You trust me, don’t you, Spader?” I asked.

“Of course, mate,” he said quickly.

“Then, please, remember that the next time you get all bent out of shape and want to go after Saint Dane,” I said. “He’s gotta be stopped, but we have to be smart about it.”

“Right,” Spader said in response. “Smart. Let’s be smart now and get out of here.”

I felt like he was blowing me off, but now was not the time to argue. We were still stuck in the badlands. As beaten up as we were, we had to move. The river was about six feet below street level. At the end of the dock was a wooden ladder. I climbed up first and carefully poked my head up and over to see what was going on.

My heart sank.

We were about fifty yards upriver from the wrecked slaughterhouse. Between me and the burning building was nothing but a big empty lot…and a group of gangsters. They were all standing there: Winn Farrow, his tattered thugs, the big-armed muscle boys, and of course, Saint Dane. They all stood with their backs to me, no more than thirty yards away, watching their handiwork. If we tried to make a run for it, they’d see us for sure.