The fire continues to spread. The burning heat radiates through our fire protective clothing. Meanwhile we are enclosed by the red-orange flames. There is no way out in sight. We run in one direction so that the rubber of our shoes doesn't stick to the scorching floor. Our last resort is a pool full of water. We jump in, hoping that someone will save us.
We see the small air bubbles afterwards as we ascend. The Flemings are reflected in the water and make it appear as if it were a burning fire itself. We notice that the dead is waiting for us a second time. We look each other in the eye and suddenly I get a feeling that didn't seem to have been there before and yet it looks familiar. Like the smell of grandma’s freshly baked cookies when you walk in at the door at Christmas time.
The water makes my vision very bad, but I can still read on his face very clearly that he is afraid. Like me. But we have each other. We look around. The fire still blocks all routes of escape to safety. Our eyes wander back to us. We look each other in the eye and now I know how I know this homely feeling. And the trigger is he. Captain Robert Sullivan.
