Chapter 8 - Fire and Fury
"I know you're in there, Matthew," Julian’s voice purred from the dining room doorway. He stepped into the red light, holding his weapon with both hands, sweeping the room. "Give me the ledger, and I’ll make sure you get a quick end. I might even let your mother live out her days in a cheap nursing home."
I stayed crouching behind the granite island, holding my breath as the thick fumes of natural gas spread across the ceiling.
"You really don't know anything about industrial safety, do you, Julian?" I called out from the dark.
Julian snapped his gun toward my voice. "What are you talking about?"
"Natural gas has a lower explosive limit of five percent concentration," I said, my voice echoing off the tile walls. "And this room reached that limit fifteen seconds ago."
Julian’s eyes widened as he finally smelled the gas. "You crazy bastard—"
He tried to turn and run, but I pulled the silver pistol, aimed at the steel toaster sitting on the far counter, and pulled the trigger.
The bullet struck the metal, creating a bright shower of sparks.
BOOM!
A brilliant wave of orange fire ignited across the ceiling, creating a massive pressure wave that shattered the glass cabinet doors and threw Julian backward off his feet. The blast knocked him hard against the brick oven, rendering him instantly unconscious.
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The force of the explosion blew open the heavy wooden service doors leading to the garden.
I picked up the leather ledger from the floor, coughed through the dense black smoke, and ran out into the cool night air just as the distant wail of police sirens began to scream through the valley.
