Page 96 of Disgrace

“John?”

“You don’t have gas or anything in the warehouse, do you?”

“A tank in the back—the guys use it to fill up every once in a while. I keep it full for them to make sure they have gas if they’re running low on cash, or whatever.”

“A tank.”

“Yeah, an above ground one.”

Shit.

The smell was stronger, now. John left the office altogether, and leaned over the banister. He could see the guys of Marky’s crew were hard at work, and seemingly oblivious to the fact something bad was going down.

“Bay doors at the back of the warehouse?” John asked over his shoulder.

“Yeah, why?”

“Get all these guys out,” John said. “Now.”

“What, wh—”

John shouted down to the guys working. “Get out of the warehouse! Go through the front, not the back! Get the fuck out now!”

Marky came out behind John just as the crackling started. The guys on the floor ran for the front, and John headed for the stairs. The smell of gas increased, and so did the smell of fire.

The tank in the back exploded just as John pushed Marky out the front door of the warehouse. The place was flattened by fire in less than five minutes.

It never stood a chance.

The fire department never even made it in time to try.

Beside him on the street, Marky watched as fire fighters shot their hoses at the smoldering pile of rubble. “That truck was a good hundred grand payout.”

“Truck isn’t worth the life of your crew.”

“I won’t have a crew if I can’t keep them working, John,” Marky muttered.

Shit.

Yeah.

“Let me call the boss,” John said. “Enough is enough with this shit.”

“About time someone else thinks so.”

• • •

“Son.”

John stiffened a bit at his father’s voice traveling in from the front door. “In the kitchen.”

Soon, Lucian’s footsteps echoed closer until they stopped altogether. John continued on with his work.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to stop by—check in. I can do that, can’t I?”

“I suppose.”