Read Online THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER by Judith B. Glad - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Judith B. Glad
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Who is Dewitt? I am Guan Tao Ni. I must remember always that I
come from an old and honorable family. Many times his father had spoken those
words, making him promise he would never forget his ancestors who had proudly served
the Imperial Family for many generations.
A crash, and the sluice box was ripped away as if it was canvas. The acrid odor of
smoke choked him.
Hard hands slapped him awake. "Get the hell out, Dewitt. The whole place is
ablaze!"
Footsteps pounded away. A door slammed before he could untangle himself from
the sheet. He snatched up his britches and shoved his legs into them, stepped into his boots
and pulled on his shirt. Grabbed his pocketbook. His spectacles? No, they'd only be in his
way.
He went to the door, remembered almost too late what Silas had taught him long
ago, and splayed his hands against it.
It was hot. Too hot. On the other side he could hear the sharp crackle of burning
wood.
The window!
He pushed the sash up all the way and leaned out. Dark as it was, he couldn't see
the ground, but he knew there had been a pile of lumber down there a few days ago. Not a
good place to jump to.
Better than burning. He'd slid one leg over the sill, when he heard the cry for help.
Hanging from the farthest window, someone was screaming, a high, shrill, terrified keen.
He couldn't make out which of his fellow boarders it was, but a woman, for certain.
"Jump!" he yelled.
She waved her arms and screamed even louder.
Tony peered into the flickering darkness below, but saw no one close enough to
call to. "Jump!" he yelled to the woman again. It had no effect on her screaming.
He hesitated, trying to see what lay below. If he jumped and broke a leg, he'd be
no use to her.
He couldn't let her be burned to death.
Feeling as if he was going to certain death, he drew back inside. The pitcher on his
commode was half full, so he plunged the hand towel into it and pulled it out, dripping.
Then he poured the rest of the water over his head and shoulders. Holding the sopping
towel against his nose and mouth, he jerked the door open.
Flames swayed toward him, but they hadn't entirely filled the hallway yet. He
dashed down to the last room, hissed as the brass knob burned his hand.
Locked.
He backed up. Kicked.
The door cracked.
He drew a deep breath, reached inside for the vitality Ji Rong had told him would
be there when he needed it. The skin of his back puckered from the heat.
He kicked again, and the door all but flew off its hinges. He set it back into the
frame, hoping it would buy him a few seconds.
The woman still stood at the window, screaming. Mrs. Tompkins, he thought. Not
very tall, but she must weigh half again what he did.
He grabbed her. "Climb onto the sill. I'm going to lower you."
She screamed and clutched at him.
"Mrs. Tompkins, listen to me! You've got to get out of here. Climb through the
window and I'll lower you as far as I can."
The only reaction was that her screams grew louder. Flames crept around the
door.
Well, hell! He hit her, just hard enough to stun. While she was shaking her
head, he swung her legs onto the windowsill, staggering a little under her weight. The shirt
on his back felt as if it was charring. "Grab my hands," he told her.
She did, with a grip almost tight enough to break bones.
He pushed, and was all but pulled after her as she plummeted. "Let go now.
Drop!"
She clung.
"Damn it, woman, let go!" He swung her sideways and heard the scrape of her
nightgown against the wooden siding. With a shriek, she let go.
Tony wasted no time going after her. He balanced himself on the windowsill for a
moment, then shoved himself clear so he'd not land on the woman.
He landed and rolled, gasping when his back made contact with the rutted
alley.
Three men came careening around the corner of the saloon. Two of them carried a
ladder and the third held a double-bladed axe in one hand and a torch in the other.
"You're from the rooming house?"
Tony tried to answer but
come from an old and honorable family. Many times his father had spoken those
words, making him promise he would never forget his ancestors who had proudly served
the Imperial Family for many generations.
A crash, and the sluice box was ripped away as if it was canvas. The acrid odor of
smoke choked him.
Hard hands slapped him awake. "Get the hell out, Dewitt. The whole place is
ablaze!"
Footsteps pounded away. A door slammed before he could untangle himself from
the sheet. He snatched up his britches and shoved his legs into them, stepped into his boots
and pulled on his shirt. Grabbed his pocketbook. His spectacles? No, they'd only be in his
way.
He went to the door, remembered almost too late what Silas had taught him long
ago, and splayed his hands against it.
It was hot. Too hot. On the other side he could hear the sharp crackle of burning
wood.
The window!
He pushed the sash up all the way and leaned out. Dark as it was, he couldn't see
the ground, but he knew there had been a pile of lumber down there a few days ago. Not a
good place to jump to.
Better than burning. He'd slid one leg over the sill, when he heard the cry for help.
Hanging from the farthest window, someone was screaming, a high, shrill, terrified keen.
He couldn't make out which of his fellow boarders it was, but a woman, for certain.
"Jump!" he yelled.
She waved her arms and screamed even louder.
Tony peered into the flickering darkness below, but saw no one close enough to
call to. "Jump!" he yelled to the woman again. It had no effect on her screaming.
He hesitated, trying to see what lay below. If he jumped and broke a leg, he'd be
no use to her.
He couldn't let her be burned to death.
Feeling as if he was going to certain death, he drew back inside. The pitcher on his
commode was half full, so he plunged the hand towel into it and pulled it out, dripping.
Then he poured the rest of the water over his head and shoulders. Holding the sopping
towel against his nose and mouth, he jerked the door open.
Flames swayed toward him, but they hadn't entirely filled the hallway yet. He
dashed down to the last room, hissed as the brass knob burned his hand.
Locked.
He backed up. Kicked.
The door cracked.
He drew a deep breath, reached inside for the vitality Ji Rong had told him would
be there when he needed it. The skin of his back puckered from the heat.
He kicked again, and the door all but flew off its hinges. He set it back into the
frame, hoping it would buy him a few seconds.
The woman still stood at the window, screaming. Mrs. Tompkins, he thought. Not
very tall, but she must weigh half again what he did.
He grabbed her. "Climb onto the sill. I'm going to lower you."
She screamed and clutched at him.
"Mrs. Tompkins, listen to me! You've got to get out of here. Climb through the
window and I'll lower you as far as I can."
The only reaction was that her screams grew louder. Flames crept around the
door.
Well, hell! He hit her, just hard enough to stun. While she was shaking her
head, he swung her legs onto the windowsill, staggering a little under her weight. The shirt
on his back felt as if it was charring. "Grab my hands," he told her.
She did, with a grip almost tight enough to break bones.
He pushed, and was all but pulled after her as she plummeted. "Let go now.
Drop!"
She clung.
"Damn it, woman, let go!" He swung her sideways and heard the scrape of her
nightgown against the wooden siding. With a shriek, she let go.
Tony wasted no time going after her. He balanced himself on the windowsill for a
moment, then shoved himself clear so he'd not land on the woman.
He landed and rolled, gasping when his back made contact with the rutted
alley.
Three men came careening around the corner of the saloon. Two of them carried a
ladder and the third held a double-bladed axe in one hand and a torch in the other.
"You're from the rooming house?"
Tony tried to answer but
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