The windows rattled.
The doors shook.
Shannon, climbing the stairs, grabbed the rail. “What the hell was that?” she whispered, her heart instantly pounding. Fear propelling her, she flew back down the steps.
With a sharp bark and growl, Khan ran to the front door. Growling, scratching, the hackles on the back of his neck stiff, he started barking, sounding the alarm.
Shannon peered through the windows near the front door.
Her blood turned to ice.
Shifting light and shadows chased away the darkness. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the tack shed, only a few feet away from the stable. Flames ascended through the roof and into the sky. “Oh, God, no!” she cried.
She dove for her cell phone and yanked it from its charger. The horses! The dogs! She punched out 9-1-1 and was on her way through the kitchen. On the first ring, the dispatcher answered.
“Nine-one-one dispatch. What is—”
“This is Shannon Flannery,” she yelled into the phone as she yanked the fire extinguisher from the wall near the back door and gave her address, repeating it. “There’s been an explosion and now a fire in the shed at my house! It’s bad! Send help now!”
“Is anyone injured?”
“Not yet! You got that address?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Inform Shea Flannery with the police force. He’s the fire investigator and my brother!”
She hung up and stuffed the phone in the pocket of her jeans.
BAM!!!
Another explosion rocked through the house. Oh, God, please not the animals. She thought of her trucks with their half-full gas tanks and the horses and dogs trapped in their shelters. Jesus, no! Please, no!
She flung open the door. A great, roaring wall of flame was already chewing through the shed’s old timbers, shingles and insulation. Heat radiated in searing waves toward the sky. Thick black smoke surged upward in horrifying clouds, burning her nostrils, searing the back of her throat. Through it all the worried neighs and startled barks of the terrified animals split the night.
If only Nate was here.
If only the fire department was here!
How far out was she? Five minutes? Ten? By that time every old wooden building on her property could be involved.
She yanked on her boots and engaged the extinguisher, knowing it was too small to begin to snuff out the flames that were consuming the shed. But the pressurized carbon dioxide would be able to slow the fire’s advance, laying down a thin sheet of retardant that wouldn’t ignite.
Khan growled and stuck close to her. Shannon forced him to stay inside, ignoring his worried whining. She could hear him barking and scratching frantically at the door as she ran the length of the porch.
Never breaking stride, she swung the nozzle of the fire extinguisher at the ground where sparks were catching on the twigs, leaves and brush. A thick plume of retardant plumed outward over the ground.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the man running toward her. She swung, CO2 spraying in front of her, and he quickly zigzagged away from her.
“Hey! Watch out!” he yelled over the roar of the flames.
“Who the hell are you?”
“I saw the fire. Called 9-1-1. Thought I could help.”
Camouflaged in dark jeans and gloves.
Like hell.