They were hot, and through them I could see the flames coming our way, darting along the base of the house. I heard the fire, a roaring that made it hard to think. It would be a race-could we get out and past the growing line of flames before they burned us? I fiddled with the lock, my fingers scalding on the hot metal, but I got it open.
By the time I did, though, there was a line of flames in front of us. The deep end of the pool was just a few feet away, and I thought we might be able to run through the fire and then douse ourselves in the water-but I didn’t like the idea of any exposed flesh getting burned.
Then I remembered the closet in the dungeon room. “Wait here,” I said to Gunter. Leaving the glass doors pulled shut but unlocked, I raced out of the master bedroom, my bad ankle throbbing, and into the room where Gunter had been held. It was filled with smoke and I could barely see the board against the wall, the sling, and the other toys Richard had scattered around the room.
Coughing, accidentally kicking a big rubber dildo across the floor, I stumbled to the closet, where I found the two hooded cloaks I remembered. I grappled with the toys on the shelves, looking for anything that might prove useful.
I had a flash of inspiration when I saw a collection of cock rings in different sizes, stuffed into a zippered plastic bag. I grabbed the bag and the cloaks and limped back into the hallway.
The smoke was almost impenetrable, and it felt like my whole body was coated in sweat. I couldn’t stop coughing and I felt an acrid burning in my throat. Using the wall for guidance I stumbled to the master bedroom, which had begun to fill with smoke as well. Gunter pointed out toward the lanai, where the flames had grown. “We can’t get through that, Kimo.”
“We can’t wait here until the fire gets put out, either,” I said, choking out the words. “We don’t know how long that will take.” I spilled the cock rings out of the plastic bag and said, “Give me your transmitter.”
“Cock rings?” Laughter alternated with his choking.
“Gunter. Focus. Take off the transmitter so I can put it in this bag.”
He pulled off the transmitter and wrapped the wires around it. I zipped it into the bag. “We’ll see if these really are watertight. Now put the cloak on.”
“Are you losing your mind?”
“Just put it on.” I slipped the cloak on over my clothes. The effect was claustrophobic, pressing my sweaty shirt against my body, especially as I was already having trouble breathing. The hood and the long sleeves covered almost all of my skin except for my face. I grabbed a couple of pillows from the bed and dumped them out of their cases.
In the mirror over the bed, I saw our reflection. Gunter and I looked like a pair of Sith lords from Star Wars. “Put the pillowcase over as much of your face as you can,” I said. “Then we run through the fire and jump in the pool.”
“You’re crazy,” Gunter said. But he wrapped the cloth over his mouth.
I slid open the glass door, and there was a momentary influx of fresh air. I took a deep breath, grabbed Gunter’s hand, looked him in the eye, and nodded.
Then we ran.
It felt like a hundred-yard dash through hell. There were flames all around us, and I thought my chest was going to burst. It took us a half dozen big strides to push through the flames. We opened our mouths, took deep breaths, then jumped feet first into the deep end of the pool.
My body couldn’t keep up with the disorienting changes-from heat and fire to cold and wet and chlorine. I thrashed around underwater for a minute, losing the pillowcase over my mouth and shedding the cloak. The pool water doused the smoldering fabric and I didn’t feel the pain of chlorinated water meeting open wounds, so that meant I hadn’t been burned.
I surfaced first, choking water out of my mouth. The house was engulfed in flames, and I saw water from the fire hoses spitting over the roof. At the far end of the house, a couple of firefighters in yellow suits dragged a hose around the corner.
Below me, Gunter was having trouble, flailing around under the surface of the water, the heavy cloak dragging him below. I dove down and grabbed him, but he was frightened and tried to shake me off.
One thing about being a surfer, you get a lot of experience dragging people out of the water. I knew not to fight with him. Instead, I focused on getting the cloak off him, letting him battle on his own, and once the heavy thing was off his shoulders, he rose up to gasp for air. We were in the deep end of the pool, eight feet by the marking on the side wall. I turned on my side to swim up to the shallow end, dragging Gunter along behind me. We both collapsed on the steps, which had been inlaid with a tile pattern of hibiscus blossoms.
“You okay?” I asked, panting heavily.
He coughed, spitting out water, but managed to say, “Never a dull moment with you, Kimo.”
“You burned at all?”
He shook his head. “Me neither.” One of the cloaks drifted toward us, and I saw a big hole burned through the back. The other cloak spread out at the deep end like a dead man floating. As we leaned back against the tile of the pool and caught our breath, the firemen aimed their hose at the back wall of the house.
More firefighters came around the side of the house to fight the fire at the back, and one of them helped us up out of the pool. He radioed that he had two guys soaking wet, needing blankets.
I’d lost my deck shoes in the pool, but I wasn’t going back for them. Gunter and I hobbled together across the lawn, as the fireman who’d helped us went back to fighting the flames. As we turned the corner, Mike came loping up the lawn, carrying blankets and throwing himself in my arms. “Don’t you know I’m the one who’s supposed to fight fires?” he asked, then he kissed me.
GO BIG OR GO HOME
Mike wrapped Gunter and me in the blankets. I slung one arm around Mike, the other around Gunter, and we walked down the lawn together. There was a fresh breeze sweeping in from the ocean, and the air was clear down there. Despite all the chaos behind us, I felt safe and secure.
We’d almost made it to the street when the garage exploded, all that stockpiled gasoline going up in one big blast that shook the ground and sent waves of heat and fire toward us. The noise was so loud that it knocked my hearing out for a minute. I smelled singed flesh and burning grass as the three of us fell to the ground in a heap.
Waves of flame swept down from the garage. I closed my eyes and faced down in the grass. Mike rolled on top of us, splaying his arms out to keep us flat to the ground. The flames were quickly doused by the hoses, and a couple of EMTs rushed over to help us all up.
There was dirt all over Gunter’s face, and he’d gotten a bunch of scrapes on his chest. He couldn’t stop coughing, so they hooked him up with an oxygen mask. I saw him try to flirt with the EMT, but even Gunter is defeated sometimes.
I thought I might have a cracked rib or two, and there was a bruise on my forehead that hurt like a bastard. Mike had been wearing his yellow fire jacket, so the worst that had happened to him was that some of the black hair on the back of his head had gotten singed off.
The three of us sat down at the curb by the EMT wagon, watching the firefighters douse the rest of the blaze. Because of the spacious yard around the house, they’d been able to keep it from reaching the neighbors, though the street was crowded with onlookers and I saw a truck from Lui’s station, KVOL. I ducked my head down so that Ralph Kim wouldn’t see me and try to get me on camera.
The EMT insisted that we all go to The Queen’s Medical Center for evaluation. None of us had the energy to complain.
Dr. Phil was on duty, and as I stepped down from the van, holding Mike’s hand for support, he hurried forward in his hospital scrubs, a stethoscope around his neck. “You’re turning into a frequent flyer here, Kimo,” he said. “If you ever want to see me, though, you can just call. Don’t feel you have to have a professional reason.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. He took my vitals, directed the EMT to take me to a curtain, and then turned
