2:15 p.m.

 

Day Two

 

Jo came to with a snort, her head jerking upright so fast she rammed it into something behind her. She groaned and tried to lift her hand to rub at the spot, but found she couldn't move. She blinked her eyes open and looked around.

She was in a large open space. Industrial, with metal walls and concrete floors. She lifted her head to take in high ceilings and patches of rust. A warehouse, if she had to guess. An unused warehouse.

Next she looked down at herself. She had ropes wrapped around her chest, hips, and ankles, tying her to some sort of metal support beam. They were tight enough that she couldn't free herself right that moment, but there seemed to be some wiggle room. She was pretty sure if she moved around enough, she could get an arm loose.

“She awakes!”

A voice boomed and echoed across the large space, startling her at first. She craned her neck around to see Malcolm Rodriguez walking towards her. He took off his suit jacket as he moved and dropped it on an empty chair. She could see he was wearing a gun harness, the kind that strapped across his shoulders and back, the guns resting just under his arms. Pearl handles winked and gleamed in the sunlight streaming through a hole in the roof.

I have to admit, he looks pretty bad ass.

“Where are we?” she asked, her voice a little slurry. It felt like her tongue was numb.

Somewhere safe,” he assured her, unbuttoning his cuffs as he talked. “Sorry about being so rough earlier.”

“Um … that's okay,” she spoke slowly. He was talking to her like they were having brunch somewhere and he was giving her a weather report. Very calm and natural.

“I don't have anything against you, personally, I want you to know.”

“Thank you?”

“You see, it's always been just my father and I,” Mal explained, moving out of her view behind the beam. There was a scrapping noise and he dragged a second chair around so he could sit in front of her. “My mother died when I was young. Then suddenly, magically, five years ago I find out I have a little brother. Awesome, right?”

“I don't know, I don't get along with my brother too well,” she replied. He threw back his head and laughed, startling her again.

This guy is a few sandwiches short of a picnic, isn't he?

“Then maybe you'll understand. I wanted to like Archer, I really did. Took him under my wing, showed him the ropes of the family business. I didn't know he was going to steal it all from me.”

“Steal?” Jo asked. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Yeah. This fucking guy. This … nobody, this nothing, this … this … this piece of North Hollywood trash just strolled into my life and -”

“Burbank isn't really North Hollywood,” Jo interrupted.

He was out the chair before she could blink and she shrieked as he slammed his palm against the beam above her head. He was so close to her, she could feel his breath on the side of her face.

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he growled. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away. “Some fucking stupid guy just walked in and stole my father, stole my position, stole my inheritance. I was supposed to be next in line, I was supposed to be my father's right hand man. So what if I skimmed a little off the top? Who cares if I was using every now and then? It was my birth right, I'd earned it. I was first born, for shit's sake!”

Jo stayed silent, and after a moment, she felt him move away. When she finally opened her eyes, he was sitting back in his chair. She took a deep breath and thought quickly.

“Yeah, um, I guess I could see how that would be awful. Someone you don't even know suddenly getting all the attention,” she spoke fast, just trying to say whatever she thought he'd like to hear. He nodded and raked his fingers through his hair.

“And it was like he couldn't just wait to point out my fuck ups, you know? Fucking Archer. Just me and my dad, taking on the world.”

“Okay,” she whispered, then she cleared her throat. “Okay, I know how you feel. You know everything about me, right?”

“I had Bernard Krakow following you for about two weeks, so between that and Archer's big fucking mouth, yeah, I know pretty much everything.”

“Then you know I have an older brother – that's how I met Archer, they were best friends. Everyone loves my brother Andy. He got good grades, he got records in every sport he ever participated in, he got a scholarship to college. So I know how you feel, I really do. It's like … being invisible. It's the worst,” she sympathized with him. He stared at the ground while she spoke, and she took the opportunity to shimmy her shoulders up and down, trying to work her arms loose.

“The worst,” he whispered.

“But I still don't really understand. What do I have to do with any of this? I never even knew Archer was dealing drugs, let alone that you or your father even existed,” she told him. He sighed and lifted his head. She held still.

“Archer is my dad's favorite thing in the whole world,” he grumbled, staring off into the distance. “I couldn't touch him directly – it would kill my dad, and then my dad would kill me. I had to get rid of Archer, but couldn't figure out how. I thought about hiring a hitman, but I couldn't be positive it wouldn't get back to me. So I realized I had to find a way to make him leave on his own.”

“Blackmail,” she whispered. He nodded.

“My father offered to buy Archer his own home in Malibu, but he turned it down so he could stay close to you. That makes you a big fucking deal. I knew if I took you, he'd do whatever I wanted. He doesn't care about money or drugs or women or any of that bullshit. Just you,” he told her.

I suppose I should be flattered.

“So that was your whole plan? Have Bernard Krakow kidnap me, hold me hostage or whatever, until Archer did whatever you asked?” she clarified.

“Pretty much.”

“And then what?”

Silence. She swallowed thickly and felt sweat break out around her hairline. He was still doing his thousand yard stare, so she decided to risk it and she started working on her bindings again.

“Like I said, nothing personal, Jojo,” he chuckled as he used her nickname.

“Of course not. What's a little thing like killing an innocent woman?” she laughed, almost wrenching an arm free. He abruptly looked over at her and she turned into a statue.

“I couldn't have you getting the law involved. It would've gotten back to my dad,” he explained. She nodded.

“Sure, sure.”

“I don't know how it all got so fucked up,” he grumbled.

“How what got fucked up?”

“The plan. Danny Nguyen's been desperate for years to get inside my dad's operation, so it was easy enough to get in with them. I fed them information, and in return, I was basically given Bernard Krakow as my personal assistant. He was supposed to be showing me the way they did business, but I could see it was a shit show. So easy to take advantage of and manipulate. We came up with a plan to fuck over his boss, Nguyen. By the end, the shit we were selling for him was more baking soda than cocaine. And then I had him – Krakow had to do whatever I wanted. I told him if he didn't, I'd rat him out to his boss. I'd be fine, I could always run home to Daddy. I thought it was the perfect plan. Get rid of Archer, and make a shit ton of money on the side. Perfection. What the fuck happened?” he growled.

“Um, sounds like maybe you needed more time to plan things out?” she offered.

“Suddenly I'm getting text messages from Archer, saying he fucked up and there's a dead body and it's Krakow. What the fuck was I supposed to do? I knew it would all lead back to me, so I called in Nguyen's thugs to take care of it. Kill you guys, and then it would just look like Bernard was the traitor, not me. It's all fucked now, though. Can't go home because Archer tattle taled to Dad, and by now, Dad will have told Nguyen everything, so I can't go back there, either. All because of you guys. You two are like cockroaches, you know? Fucking impossible to catch and kill.”

“We do our best.”

“You know,” he started laughing as he slowly stood up. “I can see why he likes you, but I honestly can't see why anyone likes him.”

“Sometimes, I think the same thing.”

“But at least I can do one thing right before I leave the country,” Malcolm sighed, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“Uh … what's that?” she asked nervously.

“I have you, which means I can make Archer regret ever coming into my life.”

While he'd been talking, he'd started pushing at things on the screen of his phone. Jo took the opportunity to finally yank her right arm free of its restraints, but held it close to her side. As he lifted the phone to his ear and stared at her, she hoped he didn't notice the slackness in the ropes.

“Yeah,” he said as someone picked up on the other end of the line. “She's fine, Archie … no … no … keep talking that way, and it'll happen a lot sooner … you won't find us, I'm miles from Malibu now … of course you can, hold on.”

The phone was pressed to the side of her face. Her heart hammered in her chest – he was on her right side, and she was scared he would see that her hand was no longer inside the ropes.

“Hello,” she said in a shaky voice.

“Are you okay?” Archer asked immediately. She chewed on her bottom lip.

“Depends on your definition of okay. I'm tied to a beam and your brother is very, very, very upset. But other than that, yeah, I'm okay,” she answered, all the while staring at Malcolm. He smiled back at her. It was unnerving, staring into eyes so similar to Archer's in a face that was so different.

In a body that's so frickin' crazy.

“Where are you?” Archer continued.

“Um, I don't think Malcolm would appreciate me describing our current location,” she replied, and Mal nodded quickly.

“Fuck,” Archer swore.

“I know how you feel.”

“Anything. Give me something, Jo. Help me find you,” he urged, but she was barely listening. Malcolm had taken one of his guns out of its holster and was spinning it around in his free hand.

“Archer,” she sniffled, then she took a deep breath.

“Don't cry,” he said. “Please, don't cry. Everything is going to be fine. We're going to find you, and I'm going to make him eat -”

“I'm sorry I kicked you,” she said in a low voice as one tear fell down her cheek.

“It's okay. You can kick me as many times as you want. Help me, Jo! I can't do this without your help. Are you in Malibu? Van Nuys? I'm out here, just help me find you!”

“And I'm sorry I got so mad at you. I wish … I wish I'd told you so many things, before this weekend. I shouldn't have been such a pussy,” she started sniffling again as the tears kept falling.

“Stop talking like this!” he yelled. “You can tell me all the things you want as soon as I get you free. You're a smart girl, Jo, think! Think, goddammit! Tell me where you are!”

“What is wrong with me?” she moaned, blinking through the tears and looking straight up, trying to calm down. “I've been in love with you for so long, and I never said anything. Why didn't I say anything?”

“Jodi Morgan,” he spoke in a serious voice. “I am going to forget you said that to me, and I'm not going to say it back, because this will not be the first time we say those words to each other. I am going to find you, and I am going to save you, and then I won't ever stop saying those words.”

She laughed for a moment, choked on a sob, then laughed again. Her eyes wandered over the high ceiling while she listened to him speak. While she remembered all their moments together. His stupid jokes and her silly games and how at least two times, she'd gotten to experience true magic with him.

Granted, once had been in a dead drug dealer's apartment, and the other had been on a nasty mattress in some …

She gasped so hard she started choking again. As she coughed and hacked, she stared up at the ceiling again. In one corner, the roofing was completely gone. Crumbled in, exposing metal beams and rafters, which seemed to be homes for several different birds that were flying around.

“What's going on!? What's happening!? Is he choking you!?” Archer was yelling, but she ignored him and glanced around the room.

She hadn't recognized the space. She'd been nervous the first time she'd seen it, and mad and hungover the second time. Plus, what with a psychotic drug dealer threatening her life and all, she hadn't been paying much attention to her surroundings.

“I'm fine,” she croaked out, glancing at Malcolm to see if he'd noticed her reaction. He was still looking down at his gun. “I'm fine. My throat is just dry, I … I could really go for some orange juice right now.”

“I will get you all the orange juice you want,” Archer promised. “You just need to -”

“OJ,” she stressed. “A great big glass, it sounds great. Remember the last time we drank orange juice?”

“Why the fuck would I remember ...” he started snapping, but his voice trailed off as he caught on.

“Your impulse purchase,” she spoke quickly. “Where'd you find a good place to, uh … pawn it?”

Please please please, don't be your usual stupid self. Please catch what I'm throwing out there.

“Malcolm,” Archer hissed. “He's the one who told me about the rave.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Mal demanded, suddenly catching onto the strange nature of her conversation. She took another deep breath.

“He's crazy, Archer,” she started speaking fast. “He's going to kill me, he's got guns. He wants to hurt me, and he wants to hurt you. He wants to punish you for -”

Wow, getting slapped never felt good, did it? Mal's palm crashed across her face so hard, she was pretty sure she'd have a permanent hand print on her cheek. When she finally lifted her head again, Malcolm had walked away and he was yelling into the phone. She practically started jumping up and down, trying to work her left arm free.

“You hear that?” he shouted. “I'm gonna put a bullet in your fucking girlfriend! And there's nothing you can do to stop me!”

Then he shouted and threw the phone across the room. It hit the concrete floor hard, and Jo watched as different pieces cracked and flew off.

“I'm sorry!” she gasped as he rushed back to her. “I'm sorry, I was scared! I'm sorry!”

“What the fuck is wrong with all of you!?” he bellowed, and suddenly both his hands were in her hair, shaking her head back and forth.

“Stop it!” she screamed.

As he jerked her around, slamming the back of her skull into the beam a couple times, her left arm finally fell free from the ropes. She raked her nails down his face, and in the split second he stopped shaking her, she jammed her thumb into his eye as hard as she could.

He bellowed in pain and stumbled away from her, falling to his knees. She didn't miss a beat, she instantly began shoving and pulling at the ropes around her shoulders, sliding out from under them. Then she bent over and yanked at the ones around her ankles, literally falling out of them. She was sobbing and crying and she was pretty sure she had a concussion, but she was free.

“You bitch! You stupid goddamn bitch!” Malcolm was screaming.

She was scrambling around on her hands and knees, just trying to crawl away from him, when he pointed his gun straight out and started pulling the trigger. He had one hand over his right eye though, which clearly seemed to effect his aim. Bullets flew around the room, but none of them came even remotely close to her. She was able to get to a door in the far wall and she crawled through it.

Once she was on the other side, she jumped to her feet and started running. She didn't remember the lay out at all, so she took a chance and ran through one doorways. It led to an abandoned office. While she stood there, breathing hard and looking around, she heard a door bang open.

“Jooooodiiiiii,” Malcolm's voice sang out, followed by two rapid fire gun shots. She dropped back to her hands and knees. “There's no where to go! No one knows where you are, and no one is coming for you!”

Don't listen to him. Just get somewhere and hide. Archer knows where you are, and just pray that his dad really does love him more than Malcolm and is willing to turn that psycho into pig food.

There was a door in the wall to her right, so she crawled over to it and slowly pushed it open. It led to some sort of work room, with lots of long tables. She cursed under her breath, then crawled between them to another wall with a door in it.

“Jojo! C'mon, maybe we can be friends!” Malcolm's voice was disturbingly close. In front of the office she'd just left, if she wasn't mistaken. “I could treat you better than Archer ever did! I would never lie to you, and I would certainly never hide a dead body in your car!”

Almost tempting.

She moved through the door and found herself in what looked like a large storage closet. There were no other doors, and she almost yelled at herself for running into a dead end. If Malcolm came into the work room, she was as good as dead. But then she looked around, trying to see what was lining all the shelves.

It looked like paint cans, but she couldn't read the labels from the doorway. She crept all the way inside and slowly closed the door behind her, then she risked standing up and walking to the shelves. Some of them were paint, but mixed among them were also cans of paint thinner, primer, and turpentine.

All which are extremely flammable.

Jo had no clue what the warehouse had been home to before it had been abandoned, but clearly it had involved painting in some way. On another shelf, she found drop clothes and stacks of newspapers. She almost felt like it was Christmas.

After getting one can of turpentine open, she splashed it all over the floor, careful not to get any on herself and to keep it away from the door. She put a pile of newspapers and a drop cloth in a corner, then covered them in primer. Not enough to completely soak them through, but definitely enough to act as fire starter.

Shit, to start a fire you need actual fire. How am I going to -

The door to the work room burst open, causing her to step back so she was against the wall. She had another can of opened turpentine in her hand and she held her breath, trying not to breathe in any of the fumes.

“Seriously, Jo,” Malcolm was yelling. “Please don't make me search every room. I will be very unhappy if I have to do that.”

She gasped as she remembered something. With her free hand, she felt all around her pockets. Her lucky Zippo! Archer had lit his Molotov cocktail with it, then he had handed it to her. She pulled it out of her fifth pocket and almost started crying again.

You can do this. You will do this. Just stay calm.

The door knob next to her rattled and she took a deep breath, trying to slow her heart rate. Malcolm was still babbling away. She had guessed right when she'd first met him – he really loved to hear himself talk. So much so, he wasn't paying attention to much else as he pulled open the storage room's door.

NOW!

Keeping as much of her body behind the door frame as possible, Jo leaned over and chucked the turpentine into Malcolm's face. She immediately dropped into a crouch just before he started shooting again. He shouted and stumbled backwards, wiping at his face and body as if she'd just thrown acid on him.

While he fumbled around, she opened her lighter and flicked the flint wheel. As a flame leapt to life, she lowered it to the path of turpentine she'd left on the floor. It instantly caught fire and raced across the room to the primer soaked stack of cloth and paper in the corner of the closet.

“What the fuck is this?” Malcolm was screaming. She took a deep breath and moved out of the doorway, holding the flame low to the floor still.

“Make one more fucking move, and I will light you on fire,” she threatened, keeping the lighter over the trail of turpentine he'd left on the floor as he'd moved around. She was impressed with how tough she sounded.

Malcolm did as he was told. He squinted down at her through one good eye – his right eye wouldn't open all the way, and was already looking bruised and swollen. His gun was on the floor, he must have dropped it during his freak out.

“Wow. You know, Archer always said what a sweet girl you are, but considering the circumstances, I have to beg the differ,” Mal chuckled, then he ran his hand over his face, still trying to wipe the solvent off his face.

“Archer is a big fat liar, remember?” she breathed, slowly standing upright. She kept the lighter open and burning, however.

“So what now? I don't like the idea of becoming the human flame,” he sighed, watching her while she side stepped her way across the room to a door.

“I don't like the idea of getting shot,” she replied, nodding at the gun he still had in one of his holsters.

“Mexican Standoff?”

She glanced at the storage room. There was a popping noise, quickly followed by a small explosion. Both of them ducked. The fire had reached the shelves and the cans were going to start going off like popcorn. Extremely dangerous, volatile popcorn.

“This whole place is going to go up like a tinder box,” she warned him. “Let's just go our separate ways? You can go to Mexico or Europe or wherever, and Archer and I will go to New York or Siberia or wherever, and we'll never speak of this again.”

“Sorry, sugar. That's not how this movie ends. Archer owes me for ruining my life, and I'm gonna take your life as payment,” he told her, taking a menacing step forward.

There was another explosion from the storage room, enough to make Malcolm drop into a crouch. Flames flew into the work room and he hissed, crab walking backwards to get away.

Now, Jojo. GO!

She turned and sprinted out the door. She was in the same hallway she'd been in before and she kept going down it. Eventually it opened into another large space, but this one had a set of iron stairs against one wall. She quickly ran up them to a metal walkway that ran along the side of the building, just under the roof.

“Jodi!”

She screamed as a bullet pinged off the railing in front of her, but she didn't stop moving. She could hear Malcolm pounding up the stairs behind her, knew she didn't have much time.

Time for what – where are you going!? Great fucking plan!

The walkway went all the way back to the front of the building, and soon enough she was running over the exact same beam she'd been tied to, just moments ago. Malcolm was also on the walkway, back at the other end of the building, but she could hear his footsteps, knew he was racing towards her. She had to think of something, and she had to think of it fast.

She realized she was heading straight for the hole in the roof. If she could make it, she thought maybe could hoist herself onto a beam, then maybe run across the roof. Find a fire escape or something, maybe get away!

“STOP!”

The next bullet was much closer to her. Enough so that she listened to him and came to a stop. She fumbled with her lighter, struggling to open it, but then she was tackled from behind. She shrieked as they both fell down, then she cried out as she watched her lighter go flying through the air. She didn't get to see where it landed because Malcolm forcefully rolled her onto her back.

“Stupid bitch,” he was growling, trying to shove his gun into her face. She screamed and grabbed his wrist, forcing it away from her as he fired off a round.

“No!” she was screaming, over and over again. “Please! No! Stop! STOP IT!”

She was literally fighting for her life. It sounded like the back half of the building was turning into a fireball, Malcolm continued pulling his trigger, and a loud rumbling noise was coming from outside, but she didn't pay attention to any of it. She focused every ounce of her energy and strength on keeping his gun away from her head.

Though that rumbling noise is getting louder and louder ...

There was a loud crash beneath them and at first, she thought it was the storage room finally blowing up. Both her and Malcolm shouted in surprise, then they both started screaming as the walkway fell away from underneath them.

She clawed at the metal, finally grabbed hold of a railing, then she held on for dear life. She coiled her arms around the thin metal beam and her legs around the one underneath her. Across from her, Malcolm was clinging to the edge of the walkway.

They were dangling away from the wall at an awkward angle. Something had knocked out a few supports beams, which had caused the walkway to collapse and rip away from the wall. It was slanting towards the ground, groaning and creaking as the back end clung to one last beam.

What the hell happened?

She glanced down at the ground and was shocked to see her car. Her ugly ass car, sitting in the middle of the warehouse. Someone had driven it straight through a wall and the vehicle must have spun out of control, leaving black tire marks on the ground as the back end had taken out the support beams.

The front end looked vaguely like an accordion, and the back panel was dented so badly, it was pressing against the back tire. Various liquids were spilling out from underneath the car, from both ends. The impact had also knocked open the trunk, and laying maybe thirty feet away from the car was a large body-shaped bundle of tarp.

Bernard Krakow, the man I just can't seem to shake.

“What do you think you're – OH FUCK!” Malcolm cut himself off as the walkway groaned and shuddered. Jo cried out as they dropped again. The loose end of the walkway hit the ground, sending a wave of vibrations up the railings and causing her to lose her grip.

She fell, screaming the whole way down, which turned out to only be about eight feet. She landed in a pile of garbage and leaves, twisting her ankle along the way. She tumbled onto her front, sprawled out just a couple feet away from the trunk of her car.

“Jo!”

She looked up just in time to see Archer leap out of her car.

“Look out,” she yelled. “Malcolm is somewhere arou-”

A bullet ripped through Archer's arm and he hit the ground. She screamed again and went to crawl towards him, but two bullets made pockmarks on the ground in front of her and she quickly went the other way. She wound up on the other side of her car and she pressed her back against it.

“Are you okay!?” she shouted, breathing heavy.

“Peachy fucking keen!” Archer shouted back. “You?”

“I'm still pissed that you lied to me and hid a body in my trunk!”

“Seriously!?”

“Yes! But I'm even more happy that you came to save me!”

“When we get out of here,” he yelled, sounding out of breath. There was a ripping noise followed by a string of curse words. “We are going to have a long talk about you not giving me such a hard time anymore.”

“Jesus fucking christ, would you two like to get married before I kill you both!?” Malcolm shouted.

“Well, now that you mention it,” Archer chuckled.

“He's covered in turpentine!” she yelled, turning around and standing on her knees. “My lighter is down here somewhere.”

“Uh, I don't think we'll need it.”

She immediately saw what Archer was talking about – the entire back wall was covered in flames. Her little storage room fire had grown quite a bit. Then she looked back to where she'd fallen and she was surprised to see Malcolm on his feet. He'd taken off his holster and his shirt, probably hoping to lessen his chance of turning into a fireball. He held his gun in his right hand and he was inching towards Archer, who was hiding behind a beam on the other side of the car.

“What's the plan, Archer!?” she yelled, then ducked when Malcolm turned and fired a couple shots at her.

“This was pretty much it! Back up is on the way,” he shouted back.

“Typical Archer,” Malcolm growled. “Half asses everything and just expects to get away with it. Not this time!”

More gun shots and she listened as bullets pinged off Archer's beam. Since Mal's attention was focused elsewhere, she took a chance and peeked back over the car. Archer's brother was stalking across the room slowly, holding his gun in both hands out in front of himself. With his arms up and away from his body, she could see his entire side, and she was a little shocked at what she saw.

A huge tattoo of a tree, identical to the one on Archer's side. They had matching tattoos. It actually made her sad. At one point, these brothers had loved each other. They must have, to have permanently marked their bodies.

How awful. A father gains a son, a boy gains a brother, and another boy completely loses his mind.

She was so lost in thought, she hadn't noticed what was going on. Malcolm was at the beam, his back pressed against it. His legs were apart, his weight on his right foot, and in a second, he would be pivoting in a circle, his gun leading the way.

“Archer!” Jo screamed, and she didn't even think about, she jumped to her feet.

Both men whipped their heads around to look at her, and Malcolm swung his gun around. She flinched and as Archer got to his feet, Malcolm pulled the trigger.

I'm dead. I'm dead, I'm dead, I died.

She hadn't realized she'd closed her eyes, but when she caught onto the fact that she wasn't actually dead, she opened them back up. Blinked down at herself, then at Mal. He was clenching his teeth together and stepping towards her, pulling the trigger over and over again. There was nothing, just a rapid fire clicking noise.

“You're out of bullets,” she gasped. He groaned.

“Oh shi-”

Archer rammed into him from behind and they both slammed into the ground. Mal's gun went flying and then the two men were rolling around, throwing punches and kicking their legs.

Archer was the bigger of the two and quickly gained the upper hand. A solid right hook stunned Malcolm, and then Archer straddled him. He grabbed his older brother by the hair and slammed his head into the concrete, over and over again.

“Stupid … mother … fucker!” he growled, punctuating each word with a slam. “Fucking … touched her … mother … fucking ...”

“Archer,” Jo panted as she hobbled around the car.

“I … always … wanted a … brother …”

“Archer.”

“And you … fucking … ruined it!”

“ARCHER!” Jo screeched, and at the same time, a large portion of the back wall collapsed. She fell to the ground, grimacing as she banged her ankle on the way down.

“What!?” he snapped, finally looking up.

“I think he gets it,” she breathed, gesturing to Malcolm. She wouldn't be surprised to find out he was in a coma. Or a vegetable. Or dead.

“Holy shit,” Archer gasped, looking back down at his brother. “Shit. Yeah, I think he … fuck. What a fucked up weekend.”

“This whole place is coming down,” Jo said, gripping onto the bumper of her car and using it to climb back to her feet. “We need to get out of here. The car is leaking gas, I can smell it everywhere.”

“You're right. C'mon, we gotta pull him out,” Archer said, standing up as well.

While Jo grabbed her backpack out of the backseat of the car, Archer grabbed his brother by the wrists and started dragging him out the exit. She started limping her way after them when there was another explosion. Much bigger than the others. She wondered what had been stored in the different rooms. She was knocked clean off her feet and she flew threw the doorway. Luckily the backpack broke her fall.

“Fuck, I am so over this goddamn weekend,” she groaned, rolling around like a turtle on its back.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck, run, Jo! Run!”

She'd barely gotten back on her feet when Archer started yelling. She looked over at him and hissed through her teeth. Burning pieces of rubble were all around them, and some must have landed on Malcolm. One leg of his turpentine soaked pants had lit up in an instant, like a Roman candle. Archer was trying to drag him and beat out the flames, but wasn't having much success.

Worse than that, though, was the trail of flames racing their way back into the warehouse. They'd left a lovely path of turpentine along the ground, and it was all leading back to her car. Her car, which now had a large pool of gasoline under it.

“Oh, fuck.”

Before she could utter another swear, she was picked up from behind. Archer threw her over his shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes and he just started running. She wrapped her arms around her head and since she didn't know what else to do, she screamed.

They'd barely made it a couple feet when the gas tank must have caught on fire. The car exploded and the entire building rocked. Archer fell to his knees and Jo was thrown away from him. She landed in a patch of grass and she went to sit up, but then curled into the fetal position, trying to cover her most vital body parts as pieces of the building rained down on her.

I'm done. Just land the engine block on me, and let's call it a day.

“You're on fire,” Archer's voice was near her. She pulled her arms away from her head, but he was already slapping and beating at her foot. By the time she sat up, the danger was gone. There was a black scorch mark on her right shoe, but he'd gotten to it before it could burn through to her skin.

She looked up to find his intense hazel eyes staring at her, and they sat that way for a minute. Just staring at each other. Then she opened her mouth.

“Well,” she was gasping for air. “I guess that all went better than I thought it would.”

Then she promptly burst out crying.