Pyro

Chapter 14

I waited for what seemed like forever.

Kaz had gotten so irked by my back-and-forth ambulating, muttering, and fretting that he yanked out a cell phone and shoved it in my face. "Here!"

Puzzled, I paused. "What?"

He jerked it wildly. "Use it. It's got internet. Now take it, and stop movin' around."

Still puzzled, mainly as to how the ordinary cell phone maintained an internet connection at a warehouse in Jersey, I accepted it. "Thank you God!" he cried, and slumped into an amassment of boxes.

"Stop being so dramatic," scolded Parker.

"Just keep cleaning your gun and shut up," Kaz said, slinking further into his pile of boxes.

Parker, who'd been sitting cross-legged on the floor disassembling and cleaning a sniper rifle, sighed, and continued to scrub the burnished black metal. Phone still in hand, I stalked over and sat across Parker. The cold dankess of the floor seeped through my clothes and I shivered.

"You're a sniper?" I asked in an attempt to fixate myself on anything other than Belrook. I also focused on the dampness of the floor, seeking anything to busy my mind.

He set down whatever he was holding (the whole thing looked like a mess of parts rather than a gun). "I am."

"He uses a rifle to make up for his shoe size!" Kaz called out. "It's the only way he can impress women!"

Parker brushed him off. "Doesn't seem someone like me would use a sniper rifle, does it?" he asked, mirth coloring his rich voice.

"Not really," I admitted, studying the carefully laid out parts before me.

A sniper, huh? Maybe his body wasn't his greatest asset to Wais, but his skill with a gun. After all, if they were ever hired to take out someone, a sniper was essential.

I angled my head to get a clearer view of the weapon when Parker said, "Henry."

Startled, I shrunk back to my original cross-legged position. "Yes?"

He pointed at the phone in my grasp using a cleaning rod. "Why don't you use that to see if there's any news on The Elemental?"

I didn't have to read between the lines to know what he meant.

"See if they suspect anything."

I situated the phone on my leg and pulled my worn sleeve over my hand. In an attempt to stall for time, I used the sleeve of my shirt to wipe off flecks of dust and smudged fingerprints. Dread lurched in my stomach at the thought of seeing what police and newscasters had to say about the series of events.

I pecked at the keyboard on the screen, searching up 'The Elemental Fire'.

Kaz groaned at my laggard typing.

I nervously hit enter and clicked on the first link that came into view, which happened to be a video of a newscast reporting about The Elemental.

Breathing hitched and heart racing, I waited for the video to load.

I blasted the volume and, as the loading screen mocked me, I fidgeted with the edge of my sleeve, praying the police didn't suspect arson or that I was somehow involved. I hadn't paid any mind to The Elemental since we left Las Vegas, but now, waves of terror crashed into me.

What if Mr. Cal told police I caused the fire? What I killed someone? What if I killed multiple people?

What if?

I tugged on the edges of my sleeves, anxious. Damn, why was this taking so long? I now found myself wishing the band-aid would just be torn off.

The words "BREAKING NEWS" in bold letters soared across the screen, accompanied with dramatic music. It then cut to a woman wearing a garish yellow pantsuit.