air. She reached the stairs at the same time as Jon, who was coming from the opposite direction. The enclosed stairwell was still relatively free from smoke and they both ran down the stairs, Tracy right behind Jon. Tracy asked, “What happened, do you know?”
“No,” he flung over his shoulder, “but considering the amount of smoke, it must be serious.”
They reached the ground floor, and Jon said, “Step back,” as he cautiously opened the stairwell door and peered out. “It’s smoky, but I don’t see any flames. Let’s go. ”
They ran the twenty feet to a side exit and were safely out into the chill of the night.
Fire engines were pulling up in front of the hotel, their sirens blasting, as Tracy and Jon moved to join the huddle of pajama-clad people gathered together on the front lawn. “Gail?” Tracy called, anxiously scanning the group. “Are you here?”
A small figure wrapped in a fleecy red robe and carrying a computer case and her purse separated from the crowd. “Tracy! Thank God.”
Tracy gave a shaky laugh. “Am I glad to see you.” The two women shared a convulsive embrace.
Most of the people on the lawn had been sleeping in the single rooms on the first floor and consequently had been evacuated first. As Tracy and Jon turned to look at the house, several more pajama-clad guests came around the side of the building. Among them was Dave Michaels, who was pushing his glasses up on his nose and blinking furiously as he hurried across the lawn.
“Thank God!” he said as he spotted Tracy and Jon. He came up to join them, looking very thin and bony in his T-shirt and flannel pajama pants, and hugged both of his stars in extravagant relief that his movie was safe.
“What happened?” he asked after he had collected himself. “Does anybody know?”
“I think the fire started in the kitchen,” Gail volunteered.
“That’s what I heard,” another voice said.
“Look!” said someone else, and the group on the lawn turned fascinated and horrified eyes toward the flames that had sudden ly leaped out two of the first- floor windows.
“I think that’s my room,” Gail said hollowly.
Tracy reached out an arm and once more hugged her secretary. “You’re safe, and that’s all that matters.”
A few more escapees came trailing across the lawn, and Tracy was relieved to see that the rest of the movie crew had made it out.
By this time, the fire personnel had trained hoses on the building. The manager was talking to the fire chief and when the manager came to join the gathering of his restless guests, the first thing he did was announce, “Everyone is out.”
A sigh of relief swept through the crowd.
Then a woman’s voice demanded shrilly, “It’s two in the morning. Where are we supposed to go for the rest of the night?”
“There’s a shelter in Warminster,” the manager said. “The Warminster Rescue is opening it up for us and providing tea and coffee. We’ll soon have you warm and comfortable.”
“Comfortable?” The voice sounded even shriller than before. “In a shelter? Surely you can’t be serious?” Tracy was not thrilled about the idea of a shelter either, and asked the manager if there were any area hotel rooms open.
“I’m afraid everything is booked for the weekend, Miss Collins,” the man replied apologetically. “There’s a big point-to-point tomorrow.” He was referring to an event for jump riders that consisted of a cross-country race from one point to another.
A man said furiously, “All my clothes are in my hotel room. I have a meeting in the morning. What am I supposed to wear?”
The shrill woman began to cry.
Jon said calmly, “None of us has any clothes. I think going to Warminster is an excellent idea. It’s a large town, and we will be able to replace at least some of our wardrobes there.” He turned to the Wiltshire Arms, which now had fire blazing out of its upper windows as well. The sky was filled with black smoke, and the
“No,” he flung over his shoulder, “but considering the amount of smoke, it must be serious.”
They reached the ground floor, and Jon said, “Step back,” as he cautiously opened the stairwell door and peered out. “It’s smoky, but I don’t see any flames. Let’s go. ”
They ran the twenty feet to a side exit and were safely out into the chill of the night.
Fire engines were pulling up in front of the hotel, their sirens blasting, as Tracy and Jon moved to join the huddle of pajama-clad people gathered together on the front lawn. “Gail?” Tracy called, anxiously scanning the group. “Are you here?”
A small figure wrapped in a fleecy red robe and carrying a computer case and her purse separated from the crowd. “Tracy! Thank God.”
Tracy gave a shaky laugh. “Am I glad to see you.” The two women shared a convulsive embrace.
Most of the people on the lawn had been sleeping in the single rooms on the first floor and consequently had been evacuated first. As Tracy and Jon turned to look at the house, several more pajama-clad guests came around the side of the building. Among them was Dave Michaels, who was pushing his glasses up on his nose and blinking furiously as he hurried across the lawn.
“Thank God!” he said as he spotted Tracy and Jon. He came up to join them, looking very thin and bony in his T-shirt and flannel pajama pants, and hugged both of his stars in extravagant relief that his movie was safe.
“What happened?” he asked after he had collected himself. “Does anybody know?”
“I think the fire started in the kitchen,” Gail volunteered.
“That’s what I heard,” another voice said.
“Look!” said someone else, and the group on the lawn turned fascinated and horrified eyes toward the flames that had sudden ly leaped out two of the first- floor windows.
“I think that’s my room,” Gail said hollowly.
Tracy reached out an arm and once more hugged her secretary. “You’re safe, and that’s all that matters.”
A few more escapees came trailing across the lawn, and Tracy was relieved to see that the rest of the movie crew had made it out.
By this time, the fire personnel had trained hoses on the building. The manager was talking to the fire chief and when the manager came to join the gathering of his restless guests, the first thing he did was announce, “Everyone is out.”
A sigh of relief swept through the crowd.
Then a woman’s voice demanded shrilly, “It’s two in the morning. Where are we supposed to go for the rest of the night?”
“There’s a shelter in Warminster,” the manager said. “The Warminster Rescue is opening it up for us and providing tea and coffee. We’ll soon have you warm and comfortable.”
“Comfortable?” The voice sounded even shriller than before. “In a shelter? Surely you can’t be serious?” Tracy was not thrilled about the idea of a shelter either, and asked the manager if there were any area hotel rooms open.
“I’m afraid everything is booked for the weekend, Miss Collins,” the man replied apologetically. “There’s a big point-to-point tomorrow.” He was referring to an event for jump riders that consisted of a cross-country race from one point to another.
A man said furiously, “All my clothes are in my hotel room. I have a meeting in the morning. What am I supposed to wear?”
The shrill woman began to cry.
Jon said calmly, “None of us has any clothes. I think going to Warminster is an excellent idea. It’s a large town, and we will be able to replace at least some of our wardrobes there.” He turned to the Wiltshire Arms, which now had fire blazing out of its upper windows as well. The sky was filled with black smoke, and the
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