I grabbed the neglected cocktail cooking items and set them up on the floor near Turk. Wendy threw the gun down and took the moment to hurl.

“Sorry. Withdrawal is a bitch!” She responded when I shot her a disgusted look. “Just get on with it.”

I soaked a rag in some pungent liquid. I hoped I never find out what it really was. I found my lighter and lit it, then threw it on the ground. I grabbed other things, anything that would burn, paper wrappers, boxes, curtains, wooden chairs. The basement was a mess anyway. It was a fire waiting to happen.

The flames grew. Wendy began to cough on the smoke. I pulled her back toward the exit. Where Marcus was laying.

“Charlie! You’re my brother! uuuhn,” groaned Marcus.
“You were going to kill us, Ass!” yelled Wendy. She flipped him off. “Look at Turk! Watch him burn!”

The fire had engulfed Turk’s pants and was melting his shoes. As it climbed to his back, Marcus turned his head.
“No! Look you murderer!” Wendy grabbed his face and turned his head back.