The Fire

Danny's face contorted in anger and disbelief as he shouted at George, "What the fuck was that? He took Sam, we gotta help him!"George held up his hands in a placating gesture as he responded with forced calmness, "How? You gonna stab that thing to death? Sam's gone, deal with it."Defeated, Danny slumped against the kitchen counter, gripping the edges for support as he struggled to accept the harsh truth of their situation. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the mental image of poor Sam being dragged away by that monstrous creature.After a few moments of pained silence, Danny lifted his head and pleaded "What do you mean, accept it? I can't be such a cold asshole, he was our friend.""He was a co-worker Daniel, it sucks, but it is what it is," George replied bluntly, the coldness in his tone cutting through Danny like a knife.Anger and desperation flared up in Danny again as he spat out, "Fuck you!"Unfazed, George jerked his thumb over his shoulder and said, "Go help him Captain America, the door is there."Danny's furious gaze drifted to the door leading out into the dark hallway. He contemplated George's challenge, turning the knife over in his hands. Could he really go out there alone? His hand trembled as he reached for the door knob, gripping it tightly. But the fire of courage in him quickly sputtered out and died. Overwhelmed by fear and doubt, he released the knob and sank to his knees."Shit. Sam," he choked out, on the verge of tears.George's voice softened as he said, "It's okay son, we'll just...we'll be fine."The sound of glass clinking made Danny lift his head. Billy was lining up an array of liquor bottles on the counter, scrutinizing the labels. "If you're done in there, I need a hand with this," Billy called out.Danny watched as Billy grabbed every bottle of hard liquor he could find. "Read the labels and separate all drinks with at least 90% alcohol. Vodka, Absinthe whatever," Billy instructed."Huh, I don't need to read labels for that," George scoffed as he picked out a bottle of clear liquid. "Uff, 'Golden Grain 190' straight from Missouri. 95% pure alcohol. This stuff gets horses drunk."Billy's face fell as he examined another bottle. "I'm out of luck here, this isn't flammable enough, it won't burn."Springing to action, Danny scrounged up some dish towels and brought them over. "I think we have some isopropyl alcohol in the cleanup room, that'll burn," he suggested hopefully.George nodded. "I'll go with him, I know where to look.""Sure, I'll get everything ready, hurry up," Billy urged them.Danny and George headed to the supply closet, shifting boxes around as they searched for the isopropyl alcohol. Danny glanced over at George as he rummaged through the shelves. "Are you sure you're going to go along with this guy's plan?" he asked skeptically."Not at all, but if he made it this far with that stuff I don't think we have a choice," George replied pragmatically.Danny furrowed his brow. "Isn't it weird that he's the only one alive? He's not affected by losing his buddies."George paused his search to look at Danny. "That guy's not special forces, Danny," he said meaningfully.Danny's eyes widened. "Huh? What do you mean?""Didn't you see the way he was dressed? What kind of soldier is on duty in jeans and a muscle shirt? Something smells funny," George explained in a hushed voice.Danny nodded slowly as understanding dawned on him. "But what do we do then?""Play along as long as it's beneficial to us, but let's not let our guard down for a second," George advised."Got it," Danny acknowledged resolutely."Do you have the alcohol?" George asked.Danny held up the bottle. "Yes.""Let's go then," George said, heading out the door.The kitchen was filled with tension as Danny and George returned with the alcohol. Billy had organized the workspace - empty beer bottles lined up on one side, strips of old dish towels on the other. As Danny placed the quarter drum of alcohol on the table, Billy's eyes scanned over their haul."Is that all of it?" Billy asked gruffly."It's a quarter drum, and yes it is," Danny replied with an edge of annoyance in his voice.Billy nodded curtly and got to work. "It will have to suffice." He began methodically pouring the liquids from the drum and bottle into the empty bottles, wetting the towels to use as wicks. The three men worked in focused silence, each contemplating what they were about to face.George's forehead creased with worry as he tied a sopping strip of terrycloth around the neck of a bottle. "Do you think the Molotovs will do anything to that thing?""They'll do the job," Billy stated as he finished constructing another firebomb. He was confident in his plan, even if the others weren't. "Grab your gear."Danny hesitated, his eyes filled with doubt. "Hey wait, can't we go back? Or try another way?" He was clearly scared of confronting the monster again.Billy shook his head, his jaw set firmly. "To turn back is to commit suicide, to try another way is to play the lottery with time we may not have." He tied one of the Molotovs to his belt and clutched the other tightly."You'd really rather face that thing?" Danny challenged in disbelief.Billy's dark eyes glinted with determination. "Not at all, I just want to save Sam, don't you?" His voice held a hint of accusation.Danny bristled at the insinuation. "Shove your sarcasm up your ass," he spat bitterly.George shot Danny a warning look as he got into position by the door. "Daniel..." he cautioned in a low voice.Danny reluctantly complied, his features sullen. Billy casually tossed a box of matches to the two men and gripped his lighter, flicking it alive with his thumb. The tiny flame danced, casting flickering shadows across his rugged face."I'm going to burn the entrance so we can get through. If that thing reacts to the cobwebs like before, it'll give us time." Billy's voice was steady and sure.George frowned skeptically. "The cobwebs are going to start a fire, and you know it. You want to let the monster burn in there, don't you?" he accused."And while we're at it let Sam die in there," Danny added bitterly.Billy's dark brows furrowed in frustration. "Do they have a better idea?" he challenged gruffly.Danny and George exchanged uneasy looks but said nothing, conceding Billy's point."I'll get the switch, you guys find the door and wait for me," Billy directed decisively.George hesitated, voicing the question they were all wondering. "How do we know the light bulbs are working?""We don't," was Billy's blunt reply.With expert hands, Billy cracked the Molotov against the side of the table, leaving hairline fractures in the glass. George took a deep breath and gripped the door handle tightly, glancing at Danny who gave a silent nod of readiness. Billy cracked the bottle again, widening the cracks. George turned the handle, the hinges grinding and squealing with rust. He looked to Billy, who gave one more firm crack to the bottle and nodded firmly.George pulled the door open. It swung heavily on its rusted hinges, revealing only inky darkness beyond. Billy quickly sparked his lighter, holding the dancing flame aloft for a few seconds before touching it to the Molotov's soaked wick. The flame eagerly crawled up the fabric. Gripping the explosive, Billy strode towards the open doorway and hurled it with practiced aim into the void.The bottle shattered, igniting the webs and illuminating the warehouse in a sudden blaze of light. For a brief moment, the space was revealed - metal shelves stacked high, cobwebs billowing as they burned. Then the fiery light began to dim, leaving only hulking shadows visible once more.