Chapter Thirty-seven
Judy woke up on her back in the parking lot. She felt stunned. She couldn’t keep her eyes open. She couldn’t think. Her head rang. She didn’t know how long she had been lying there. The air reeked of smoke, gasoline, and burning rubber. Chunks of metal, broken glass, and charred debris lay everywhere. She couldn’t hear a thing.
She propped herself up on her arm and saw the old man lying on his side, his face blackened. He was moving and didn’t look injured. Her thoughts cohered in a terrifying moment.
Oh my God.
She looked around her in horror. Bright orange flames engulfed her car, raging through the interior. The conflagration obscured Domingo in the driver’s seat. She scrambled to her feet, reeling.
Oh no no.
“Domingo!” she screamed in anguish. She had to get Domingo out of the car. She staggered to the VW. She didn’t know how long the fire had been burning. Black smoke filled the air, fogging everything. She lunged to the car but raging flames drove her back. She reached into her pocket for her phone, scrolled frantically to the phone function, and pressed 911.
“Please hurry, I have an emergency, an explosion, a car fire!” Judy couldn’t hear the operator or her own voice but kept shouting. “I need an ambulance right away! There’s somebody trapped in the car! We’re at Haltman’s Hoagies in East Grove! Please hurry! I’m hanging up because I can’t hear anyway!”
Judy put her phone away. Her eyes watered. Her throat and nostrils filled with smoke and soot. She gasped for breath. She covered her mouth and tried to get to the car. Flames licked at her, keeping her at bay.
Her cheeks and chest burned. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She coughed and coughed. Heat seared her face. Fiery debris flew like a nightmare blizzard, blocking out the sky.
“Domingo, Domingo!” Judy tried to get to the car one more time. The sleeve of her blazer caught fire. She beat the flames with her hand, smothering them. Agonizing pain exploded in her palm.
She couldn’t let Domingo die. Her thoughts raced ahead. The sandwich shop must have a fire extinguisher. She whirled around and ran back to the shop through the smoke. A yellow Mini Cooper had stopped at the curb. Two young girls jumped out of the front doors, surveying the scene with horror.
“Help the old man!” Judy yelled to them. The young girls yelled back to her, something she couldn’t hear. One young girl raced to the old man, who was struggling to his feet. The other young girl started talking into a cell phone, probably calling 911.
Judy bolted to the sandwich shop, ran inside, and looked wildly around. A small red extinguisher was affixed to the lower wall by the door. She yanked it off and raced outside with it, frantic. She sprinted past the old man and the young girls. Cars were slowing on the street and pulling to the curb to help.
Judy ran to her VW. An inferno razed the interior. Flames raged skyward. Smoke billowed everywhere. The heat beat her backwards. Her eyes burned in the smoke. She couldn’t accept that Domingo was dead. She tucked the fire extinguisher under her arm and pulled out the steel ring on top. Behind her, a trio of Good Samaritans helped the old man to his feet. She recognized one of them, a priest.
“Father Vega?” Judy’s heart leapt with hope. “Thank God! Help!”
“Judy?” Father Vega looked over and ran toward her through the smoke, his black jacket flying open. He reached her, his eyes wide with alarm. “What are you doing here? Is that your car?”
“Yes, my friend’s inside!” Judy tugged the rubber hose on the extinguisher from its holder and aimed the nozzle at the fire.
“Hurry! Squeeze the black handle! Spray the car! Sweep it from side to side!”
“On it!” Judy squeezed the handle and aimed the nozzle. Acrid pale yellow powder sprayed at the huge flames, though it looked futile. She didn’t know what else to do. She glanced at Father Vega and caught him sliding a hunting knife from his jacket pocket, its jagged blade glinting in the sun. The priest was turning toward her, his eyes blazing darkly as he raised the knife in his hand.
“Father Vega?” Judy gasped, thunderstruck. She couldn’t begin to comprehend what she was seeing with her own eyes. A man of God, about to stab her with a lethal knife.
And behind him at the curb, jumping out of a battered white pick-up, were Carlos and another man, presumably Roberto.