They all took off running, Brian in the lead. When they rounded the corner to the kitchen, Frank's socked feet slipped on the tiled floor and he skidded into the counter, slamming his hip painfully against the edge. He had to stop to clutch it and wheeze for a second, and when he made it to the utility he found Gerard and Brian pulling on the door that must have led to the garage, Mikey and Ray hovering anxiously at their shoulders.
"It's locked," Mikey said as soon as he saw Frank. "Who the fuck has a garage door that locks from the inside?"
"But there's a keyhole on this side," Ray said, pointing. "We should check the kitchen for keys."
There was a small glass panel in the door - Brian got up on his toes to look through it. "Bob!" he yelled, hammering on it with his fist. "Bob, are you hurt? Can you hear me?"
"What the fuck happened?" Frank asked Gerard.
"I don't know!" Gerard dug his heels in, putting all his weight on the door handle. "We were looking at his cars," he said, voice strained with effort. "Craig has a motorcycle I thought Mikey would think was cool, so I was coming to get him, and then the door just closed behind me."
"And locked itself?" Brian hammered on the glass some more. "Why the fuck didn't you come get us?"
"I was trying to open the fucking door!" Gerard said, his hands slipping off the handle. He staggered into Frank. "I didn't know there was going to be a fucking fire!"
"How did the fire even start?" Brian demanded, and then his voice changed. "Bob! Bob, are you okay? Where's Craig?"
Frank got on his toes too, so he could see Bob's face through the glass, pale and silent. His mouth was moving, but the glass was too thick. He looked frantic, and was pointing behind him every three words.
"The door doesn't open from this side!" Brian yelled, miming turning a key in a lock, then making a throat-cutting gesture. He pointed towards the lock. "Bob, you have to open it from your side!"
Bob obviously didn't understand - he shook his head and then they could see him coughing, both hands held in front of his mouth. He pulled his shirt up to cover his mouth and nose and disappeared again, going back towards the smoke and flames because he was crazy.
"Bob!" Frank yelled. "What the fuck is he doing? Why doesn't he unlock the door?"
"Why doesn't he use his stupid axe to break it down?" Brian shouted, going back to yanking desperately at the door handle. Gerard had backed off and was standing a few feet away, looking terrified.
Ray and Mikey came hurrying back in. "These were all the keys we could find," Mikey said, kneeling on the floor and spilling a million keys out of his hands. "One of them must work."
Frank knelt down next to him and grabbed the first bunch, fitting the keys one at a time into the lock. Brian hammered on the glass again, yelling for Bob, then let out a yell of frustration. "We have to break this fucking glass! I can fit through this gap."
"What?" Frank gaped at him. "Brian, you can't go in there, what the fuck are you thinking?"
"Frank, please! They're going to fucking die unless we can get this god damn door open!"
"Golf clubs!" Gerard said suddenly. "Craig said his golf clubs are around somewhere!"
Brian took off running, and raced back in like ten seconds later, holding a golf club. He braced himself, lifted the golf club back behind his shoulder and swung hard, slamming it into the glass panel, which cracked but didn't break.
"Jesus!" Frank rolled out of the way, pulling Mikey with him.
Brian slammed the heavy end of the golf club into the glass again, and again, until finally it shattered, sending splinters of glass to the floor and letting a gust of smoke and heat out into the utility.
