Quagmire: Day 16

Word Count: 96,034

Summary of Events: 

Jesse found out that Rose had been unkindly treated by a gangster affiliated with the group his fellow reporter had been a part of and so went and tore a strip out of them for doing anything to her before meeting Redmond Fylan's uncle and convincing him to leave him alone. Noting that Georgia seemed bored out of her tree, Jesse snuck her out for a walk and they came upon a woman whose car was on fire; Jesse rescued her child from the car and got them to a neighbour's house while he went to call for help at a nearby phone booth . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"He hung up the phone just as an explosion shook the ground. Jesse turned and saw a more spread out flaming wreckage that looked nothing like a car, and flaming debris sitting all over the place; thankfully the rain was keeping things under control, and being as the ground was already moistened the flames weren't spreading very easily.

Unfortunately, however, many windows were broken as a result of the explosion, including those of the house where Jesse had left the woman, her child, and Georgia.

Jesse turned the phone booth's handle to get out and see how they were faring, but it wouldn't budge. Jesse shoved and kicked at it, but it appeared that the force of the explosion had jammed the door.

Or, at least that was how it appeared until Jesse noticed flames climbing the side of the phone booth, travelling rapidly over the flammable paint.

Jesse turned back to the phone and inserted another coin.

"Operator, how soon are they going to get here?" he asked.

"I don't know, but they're on their way sir," she replied.

"I'm trapped in the phone booth and it's on fire," Jesse said.

"I'll let them know," the operator replied.

Jesse hung up and worked to take deep breaths and keep himself from panicking, despite the fact that flames were crawling the outside, and also starting to lick toward the interior.

He kicked the door again, then paused a moment and drew out his gun. Firing it in such a confined space would do murder on his ears, but he had no choice, if the door was merely jammed by the force of something having struck it, the shot should get him out.

If there was something in front of the door, however, the shot would be wasted. But at least he had to try.

Aiming squarely at where the door pin ought to be located, Jesse fired, cringing at the deafening report of the firearm. He then kicked the door again, but it still didn't give, there was something against the door from which the flames had originated.

Jesse threw himself against the door as the flames started to come even more into the booth, filling up the air with acrid smoke.

He heard sirens and clanging as he pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket and put it over his face. He didn't have time to wet it with anything, and he was sure it would do well enough on his own.

Viciously he threw himself against the door again. He could hear muffled shouts, then thudding and the splintering of wood before there was a rush of cool air and a roar of fire. Hands seized Jesse and hauled him out into the rain again.

Jesse collapsed to the ground and gulped in deep, rain-sodden breaths of fresh air while the firemen rushed around tending to the flames scattered about."