Chapter 1

It was not the explosion that would have killed them. It would have been the resulting fire.

Peter Blackmon was not sure he remembered where he was or why he was there. The bomb had been in the back of a van that had been driven to the front of the slave auction house. The van had been kept from the front door by heavy flower planters designed for just that purpose. That did not prevent the ninety pounds of explosives from collapsing the building's façade and damaging the rest of the structure.

As the building reeled under the impact of the car bomb, electrical connections were stretched and torn apart. Energized wires shorted out and began dozens of fires throughout the building. Smoke, the most common killer in structural fires, began to accumulate in the rooms and halls.

In the slave preview area, the blast had knocked Blackmon across the room and into the bars of the slave pen. He had smacked the back of his head hard enough that he only was aware that something was not right. He could not get his feet under him and his arms flailed without purpose. As smoke began to sting his nose, he began to lose even those small crumbs of lucid thought.

The next moment of semi clarity crystalized into a man's voice shouting from less than a foot away.

"Are these your?"

" ... What?..."

"Are these your slaves?" the voice shouted again.

"What? ... where..."

"If these are not yours, they were trying to escape. We have to kill escaping slaves. So are these yours or not?"

Blackmon got his vision cleared enough that he could turn his head to look where the ogre with the booming voice was pointing. Lying on her back a few feet away was Page. Blood was coming from her nose and ears. Her breathing was quick and shallow.

"Billy! Spike these two and let's get going. We know some went around the south side of the building."

Blackmon could see beyond Page that a thin man had a tool in his hand that he was pressing to the back of a dark head of hair. The popping sound the tool made was barely perceptible over the ringing in his ears. The girl the hair belonged to twitched for a moment then went limp. Thin man was moving down the line of bodies towards Page.

"Mine!" The croak that came out of Blackmon's throat came at the cost of a choking cough coming right behind.

Ogre turned towards him "What?"

"Mine!" was all he could get out of his smoked scorched throat.

"Okay, Okay" Ogre turned to Thin Man and said "Not these two. These are his and we sure do not want to spike someone else's meat. Let's get moving."

Ogre and Thin Man moved away out of Blackmon's sight. He managed to roll to his left and push up. He got himself in a sitting position, legs and feet splayed out in front of him like a child on the playground. He rubbed his eyes to improve his vision so he could take stock.

A man in a uniform was running towards him. He had a bag in his hand with a big red cross on it. The man knelt down in front of him.

"How are you doing? Are you hurt? Can you breathe? Can you talk?" The questions poured out of him much faster than Blackmon could process much less respond.

He pointed towards Page. He was sure Page was going into shock.

"Help."

"Hey man ... I don't do pets. I saw a Vet Van out front. They can help but I can't. I would lose my job."

Blackmon reached into his pocket and pulled a fistful of money out. He held it up to the EMT.

"Get help?"

"Man ... Shit!" The EMT grabbed the money and ran off the way he had come. Blackmon could not make his eyes follow him all the way. He flopped back down on his back and tried to get his head to clear. The last thing he remembered was someone saying "They are over this way." Everything then turned gray and then black.

Chapter 2 »