"Yes. I think it might be-"

A sound to her right interrupted her. It was a scream...a high-pitched scream that was greatly m.u.f.fled. She couldn't be absolutely sure, but she thought it had come from the direction of the bas.e.m.e.nt steps.

"You still there?" Ramirez asked.

"Yeah. I think I just heard a scream from inside. Get over here as quick as you can. Maybe bring some backup."

"I'm on it. Please be safe."

"You know me," she said, and killed the call.

She drew her sidearm and slowly started for the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs.

That's when she heard the noise again, louder this time and more panicked.

Avery's slow stride turned into a run as she reached the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs and headed own toward the bas.e.m.e.nt doors where the screaming continued, growing more urgent with every second.

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

The bas.e.m.e.nt door was locked, which was not much of a surprise. Avery didn't even bother throwing a shoulder into it or trying to kick it in; if she failed, she'd be alerting the killer to her presence and she knew that the element of surprise might be the only advantage she had here. She hurried back up the concrete steps and into the backyard. She then made her way to the back porch, making sure to step carefully but quickly.

That door was also locked but a square of paned gla.s.s sat along the top of it so those inside could look out into the backyard. Avery drew her arm back, made a V-shape out of her elbow, and shoved it hard into the gla.s.s. The shattering gla.s.s and subsequent tinkling as shards fell to the floor inside wasn't too loud; hopefully they had gone unheard by anyone in the bas.e.m.e.nt.

Avery reached her hand carefully into the broken window. She had to get up on her tiptoes to get hand low enough inside to find the doork.n.o.b. Her fingers found it and she turned the lock counterclockwise, careful not to cut herself on the fragments of gla.s.s that remained in the pane. With the door unlocked, she opened it and stepped inside and withdrew her sidearm, a Glock 0.9mm that was starting to feel like an extension of herself.

She found herself inside a small kitchen. A few dirty dishes were in the sink and the small kitchen table was littered with mail and random papers. Avery ignored this, moving further into the house. As she stepped out of the kitchen and into the adjoining living room, she heard another scream to her right, unmistakably below her.

Off of the living room, there was a small hallway that made up the rest of the house. She checked each room as she pa.s.sed, as the doors were all standing open. There were two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a linen closet. That left one door remaining at the far end of the hall. This door was closed. As she approached it, she heard m.u.f.fled whimpers from behind it, faint and almost non-existent.

If this door was locked, she'd have to try breaking it down. She may even need to blow the k.n.o.b and lock off with her Glock, giving herself away if there was someone down below. She reached out and turned the k.n.o.b. She relaxed instantly when it turned under her hand.

She pushed the door open and a set of wooden stairs was revealed. She took the first step down, testing the strength of it to see of it would creak under her weight. Confident that it was st.u.r.dy and would not give her away, she took a second stair down.

Beneath her, another of those whimpering noises sounded out. This time, Avery was able to hear another voice with it. It was a male voice, but soft and somber.

"The pain is momentary, I think," he was saying. "It will be much better if you just accept it. It will be over before you know it."

"Why?" the woman asked, her voice nothing more than a tremor.

"I don't think you'd understand," the man said.

This was followed by the sound of a loud clunking noise that was almost hydraulic in nature. The woman cried out loudly in a brief yelp.

Avery took two more steps down-there were ten more to go. She saw that near the bottom, there was open s.p.a.ce between each stair, revealing the bas.e.m.e.nt area below. If the killer saw her feet before she could gauge the situation, she could lose her advantage.

She took a deep breath and bounded down the stairs as quickly as she could. As she did, the woman let out a scream and there were the sounds of a struggle. The woman was crying out now, letting out loud wails of horror.

Avery reached the bottom of the stairs and when her feet hit the concrete, everything seemed to happen in a sped-up sort frenzy, like someone had pressed a fast-forward b.u.t.ton.

Avery took a single moment to take in the scene. The sheer absurdity of it made her hesitate for just a moment.

The man had heard her and wheeled around to face her. They were in a small bas.e.m.e.nt area occupied with only a small work desk along the right side of the room. But behind the man she saw a strange-looking door that almost resembled a heavy-duty door to an industrial icebox or cooler. A woman was inside of it, having been knocked down and getting to her feet. All around her, flames were licking upward and growing with unreal quickness.

Avery trained her gun on the man and took three huge strides forward. She took a good look at the man's face. She recalled the picture Agent Lewis had showed on the Skype call.

I'm right, this is Roosevelt Toms, she thought. Toms has been living under the alias of Jason Inge.

"Don't move," Avery said. "Drop to the ground and-"

Toms didn't let her finish before he wheeled around and slammed the industrial-type door shut. It made that same hydraulic-like sound Avery had heard. Inside, the woman screamed but the sound was cut off as the door was slammed closed. Toms then grabbed a large plank and worked quickly to work it through a set of handles that would barricade the door if the person inside did manage to escape.

Avery rushed forward and shoved Toms hard against the wall. He collided hard, the back of his head striking the concrete wall, and let out a cry as he sank to the floor. The plank he had tried to use to barricade the door clattered to the floor. Avery wasted no time, placing her hands on the U-shaped handle of the heavy door. With a grunt, she pulled it open.

An intense wave of heat rushed out at her. She took a step back away from it and as she did, the woman inside came barreling out. She was screaming and flailing wildly with a trail of flame behind her. Avery could smell burning clothes and hair.

The woman ran directly into Avery and they both went to the floor in a heap of arms and legs. Avery's right arm twisted beneath her and hit the floor hard, sending her gun sliding across the floor and a bolt of electric pain up toward her shoulder.

She rolled away from the burning woman, feeling the flames now licking at the leg of her pants. With a hard shove that was probably a little too forceful, Avery sent the woman careening hard to the right. She was still screaming, rolling around and trying to put the flames out. Avery, meanwhile, scrambled for her gun while keeping her eyes on Roosevelt Toms.

He was getting to his feet and taking in the sight before him. Beside him, the flames inside his torturous little room continued to grow. They were burning furiously, flashing out of the door on occasion. The roaring noise the fire made as it grew and consumed whatever fuel he had in the room was monstrous.

Avery grabbed her gun and looked around the room for something that might help put out the flames that were still scorching the woman on the floor. She wondered then if this was Sophia Lesbrook who was burning-who was even now giving off the smell of charred flesh.

There's nothing here, Avery thought. Nothing to put these flames out.

Sophia continued to scream and roll, now in a spastic sort of way that reminded Avery of a broken remote-controlled toy. Thinking as quickly as she could, Avery tore off the b.u.t.ton-down shirt she was wearing, revealing the thin tank top beneath. The b.u.t.tons flew in all directions but the plinking noises they made as they hit the floor were drowned out by the roaring of the fire from inside the small room.

She went to Sophia Lesbrook and threw the shirt on her, trying her best to flatten it against the flames. She did this several times, almost in a fanning motion. It seemed to bring the flames down a bit but Avery felt her own hands burning as she fought the fire that was slowly dying out on Sophia's bare arms and her right leg.

She also continued to keep a check on Toms. He was on his feet now but clearly dazed from the whack he'd taken to the head.

"Don't you dare move," Avery yelled at him. "Stay where you are."

He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the cobwebs from his head. As she watched him, her right arm grew hot and she realized that the one remaining flame on Sophia had licked upward and burned her arm. She drew back with a hiss and when she did, Roosevelt Toms came rushing at her.

Avery drew her Glock up and fired a shot just as Toms threw his shoulder into her ribs. Toms roared out in pain and Avery was able to shove him off of her before finding herself on the floor again. She stalked over to him and saw that her shot had taken him high in the right shoulder. He was on the floor, trying to get up without using his right arm.

Avery kicked him in the ribs and then pushed him over with her foot. When he was on his back and facing her, she saw that he held something in his hands. She saw it a split second too late, though.

It was a yellow tin can of something. Before she could figure out what it was, he was spraying something into her face. The smell as it hit her face was intense and thick.

Lighter fluid...

This idea flashed through her mind as she stumbled back. The liquid had partly gotten into her eyes and it was stinging like mad as she tried to shake it away. She wiped at her eyes but that seemed to only make it worse. The world was a blur and she could barely even make out any shapes or colors.

That's when she felt Toms kick her right knee. She felt it buckle but was pretty sure nothing had popped out of place. Still, she went to the floor on one knee. She held her gun out although she could see nothing, hoping it might intimidate Toms.

Instead, she felt a hard pulling sensation at her scalp as he grabbed her hair in his hands. She felt a hard kick to her stomach and the wind went rushing out of her. He then started to grapple with her for the possession of her gun. Even though she could not see, she knew she could not let him have the Glock. If he got it, the fight was over-her life might very well be over, either by gunshot or by being thrown into his makeshift furnace.

She staggered to her feet, keeping in mind that he had a b.u.m right shoulder from the first shot. So if she kept her pressure to the right and focused her strength there, she should be able to overtake him easily. As they fought for the gun, she continued to hear Sophia Lesbrook screaming from the floor. She also felt an intense heat behind her and tried to recall the exact position of the door along the wall. If he fought her backward too much, he could easily shove her into his little furnace.

Instead, she felt him pushing her to the left, where she collided with the wall. Her eyes were stinging and her stomach was aching but she'd be d.a.m.ned if she'd give up. She fought against him hard, feeling the gun still in her hands as he tried to tear it away. She tried to get a better idea of where his hands were along the gun. Taking a chance, she angled it to the right, feeling his weakness to that side.

With a cry of desperation, Avery pulled the trigger. For a brief moment, she felt him release the gun. She opened her eyes as wide as she could, only seeing blurs. She saw one directly in front of her and fired. But the blur kept coming at her. It went low and she tried firing again but was struck along the waist. Again, she was slammed against the wall but this time she did not give Toms time to get a good position on her. She pushed back, driving him backward by pushing his weight to the right, where he was unable to fight back. She felt him trying to trip her and they fought while moving across the room, the fire still roaring around them.

Two more seconds of this and they came to an abrupt stop. They had hit the small desk she had spied when taking in the room. They fought against it and something fell to the ground in a clatter of noise. Again, she smelled that chemical smell that might be butane or propane.

"You're going to burn, b.i.t.c.h," Toms hissed Stupid, she thought.

By speaking to her, she was able to locate exactly where he was standing. He had nearly whispered the comment into her right ear, meaning that he was leaning in that direction. With a surge of strength, she drew her hand (and, at the same time, his own as he continued to fight for purchase of the gun) and fired twice.

She felt him release the gun right away. She then heard him thump against the desk and then the floor.

Unable to see him, she had no idea if he was dead or not. The only things she was certain of was that Sophia Lesbrook was whimpering somewhere nearby and that the room was growing hotter. Not knowing what else to do, Avery spit on her fingers and wiped at her eyes, hoping that any sort of moisture might clear her vision. It helped, but not much. The sting was still there and although she could now see more than just a blur, things were still very hazy.

"Sophia Lesbrook?" she asked.

"Unnh," was the only response she got.

"Are you still on fire?"

"No." Her voice was shaky and faint, like a frightened child.

"Is the man dead?"

There was silence for a moment. In that silence, Avery felt her way along the desk she and Toms had collided into. She was trying to find her way back to the stairs but was very disoriented due to the near-blindness and the heat.

"I think so," Sophia said. "But the fire...it's out of that room. Something fell...off the desk when you were fighting. The fire came out of the door and caught it. It's in here with us now."

s.h.i.t, Avery thought. Hopefully the concrete floor will slow it enough for me to figure something out.

"Sophia, can you walk? How badly are you burned?"

"I don't know...I-" And then she started crying.

I have to clean my eyes, Avery thought. If I don't get out of here soon, I'll be burned alive. Both of us will be.

That's when she started to smell something burning. Something like wood. And the smell of whatever chemical had been sprayed into her face was stronger than ever. "Sophia, do you-"

But her question was cut off by an enormous sound that was almost like wind. It was accompanied by a tremendous heat that was so fast and intense, it knocked Avery to the floor. In a single moment, it felt like every hair on her arms was singed.

Sophia Lesbrook started to scream again. She was trying to speak but it was coming out in nothing but a frantic jumble. Still, Avery was pretty sure she knew what had happened. Sophia had told her the fire had come out of that room and lit something aflame within the bas.e.m.e.nt. Apparently, that fire had touched the same chemical that had been sprayed in her face-perhaps something that had been spilled from the desk.

Okay, okay, she thought, getting back to her feet. I can do this. I'll fall on my a.s.s a few times but I can get Sophia to the stairs and- "He's not dead!"

It was Sophia's voice, nearly hysterical now. "I was wrong! He's-"

But her voice was quickly cut off.

Still blinded and now almost dizzy with heat and the knowledge that she could be burned alive at any moment, Avery held her gun in front of her as she took slow steps backward. Smoke filled the air and stung her nostrils. For a moment, she thought this might be what h.e.l.l was like.

That notion only intensified when she felt the first of the growing flames lap at her leg, burning her pants and touching the flesh beneath it.

CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

Avery had seen how quickly the fire had grown in that little makeshift furnace. She figured if it also grew that quickly outside of the room, she might have thirty seconds to get upstairs before she went up in flames. She might be able to do it even while blinded...but she was not going to leave Sophia behind.

More than that, if Toms was still alive, that made things even harder. Knowing it was useless to stand in place-especially with a flame actively eating away at her pants leg-Avery stepped forward, in the direction she was pretty sure Sophia was in. Fortunately, it was the same direction she needed to go to escape the growing fire behind her.

"Sophia, can you come to me?"

"No. He's-"

Avery started feeling out with her feet for Sophia's body while still holding out her Glock. She was starting to smell smoke that seemed to get thicker by the second.

"Sophia, I need you to get to the stairs. When you get there, start calling me. I can't see and I-"

She was interrupted by a hard punch to the face. She heard a m.u.f.fled cry behind it-a cry of pain and of triumph.

How's this a.s.shole still alive? she wondered. Her jaw ached fiercely but she'd been punched enough to know that he had not been able to put his full power into it.

She caught herself against the desk and when she did, the heat against her arm and back was immense. She yelled out and tried angling to the left but another punch caught her, this time to her stomach.

She doubled over, gasping slightly and then coughing from the sudden intake of smoke. As she bent over, she fired off another shot. As she did this, she surged forward, having no idea if she had hit Toms with the round or not.

She was then struck from behind. She went hard to the floor and again lost her grip on her gun.

"Get to the stairs, Sophia!"

It was hard to breathe because of the blow to her stomach and because of the smoke that was filling the room and her lungs. She was given one blessing, though; her eyes were clearing up a bit. She could now see Sophia Lesbrook, hobbling toward the stairs through a cloud of smoke and glowing flames. Behind her, back toward the door, fire had crept out of the furnace room and engulfed a stack of papers that had fallen from the desk as well as the desk itself. The flames were tall and starving, reaching up and brushing against the ceiling. She also saw a crumpled and melting bucket among the debris. She wondered if it had contained a chemical that had caused the sudden intensity of the fire that had knocked her down.

She felt something odd at her back as Roosevelt Toms fell upon her. She felt like someone was pouring water on her and then realized with horror that she could smell the scent of propane or butane or whatever the h.e.l.l it was again. Toms was dousing her in it.