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the Almighty and run outside with the hope that
we don’t turn to dust. That comes later. I think we should wait a
little while longer and see what Leland does first. Then we make
further decisions and evaluations.”
    “I agree,” Chuck said. He held the two-way
radio up to his face. “Leland?”
    But Leland didn’t reply. Chuck adjusted one
of the knobs on the radio and spoke again. Leland still didn’t
answer.
    “What’s going on?” Wayne Richards asked.
    I glared at him. “You know the same things we
know.”
    Wayne shrugged his shoulders and peered out
the window. “I still see movement in the restaurant.”
    “That doesn’t mean the movements are
Leland’s,” I reminded him.
    Chuck tried talking to the old man a few more
times before giving up. None of us were quite sure what had
happened. But the fact that Leland had stopped communicating with
us was a bad sign.
    “See, I told you,” Wayne gloated. “Now that
Leland’s away from us, he can expose his true colors. I was
right.”
    Wayne was still trying to convince us that
his theory about Leland Kennedy was valid when another explosion
shook the back of the store.
    “It sounds like it’s coming from the pool
chemical section,” Chuck huffed.
    When we got there, flames were licking up the
sides of the walls. The two Weaver boys were standing there gaping
at the destruction. With their mouths hanging open and their eyes
wide, they looked like fish waiting for the baited hook.
    “What did you do?” I screamed at them.
“Where’s your father?”
    The boys looked at me and laughed. Jesse
Weaver caught up to us in time to see his sons snickering.
    “What did you two do?” he roared.
    Kenneth spoke up. “We heard that you could
make a bomb with pool shock and a Dr. Pepper. We didn’t really
think it would work.”
    “But it did,” Jake Weaver said, echoing his
brother’s enthusiasm.
    “Both of your hides are mine when we get out
of here,” Jesse growled. “Your mother is dying in front of your
eyes and all you can do is pussyfoot around out here in the
store.”
    The normally defiant boys seemed to
physically shrink in the presence of their father. I still didn’t
like any of them, but I definitely gained a little bit of respect
for Jesse Weaver at that moment.
     
    Although the fire wasn’t out of control yet,
it was steadily climbing the walls and
    inching toward the doors.
    “You guys got anything to put this out with?”
Jesse asked, a hint of fear creeping into his eyes. “We got enough
problems without a campfire.”
    “The sprinklers should kick in soon,” Steven
replied. “Don’t worry. The building won’t burn down.”
    “I’m not worried about the building burning
down,” Jesse hissed. “I’m worried that the fire is going to cause
those glass doors to explode and let in whatever’s turning
everybody to dust. After all, the generator was supposed to kick in
too, and look what happened there.”
    “He’s right,” Wayne said, pointing at one of
the glass doors. The frame was already starting to warp and buckle
from the heat. It wouldn’t be more than a few seconds before the
glass shattered.
    “Do something,” Ashley whimpered.
    “Run,” Chuck said. “Back to the break room,
hurry!”
    We all heard the explosion of glass behind us
as we rounded the corner. Ironically, it was then that the
sprinkler heads decided to kick in.
    “Great timing,” Chuck muttered under his
breath.
    His words took on a whole new meaning once we
saw just how bad things really were. Vera Weaver wasn’t breathing
when we exploded through the door.
    “Vera?” Jesse Weaver said in a high strained
voice. “Oh God, Vera.”
    Vera’s eyes were open, and it was obvious
that she was straining for air. Her face was a light shade of blue,
giving her the look of someone who has spent too much time in
subzero temperatures. Jesse shook his wife hard, hoping his love
and desperation would be enough to save her. One corner of her
mouth was