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though the villagers up and ran on the first sign of danger. It was still early, perhaps no one noticed yet, or perhaps no one cared. According to news reports mysterious fires were plenty common in this area. A gangland strife hung over the territory and local retailers often found themselves suffering in its wake. Whatever their reasons, the scene was one fire brigade short. This community bound neighbourhood seemed unlikely to resolve that issue.
    The four homeless vented thoughts for a plan opposite the burning building. Sounds of collapse and rising sparks ticked like egg timer sand. Even with a wide road between they couldn’t help feel powerless against the flaring foreground.
    Rum stared it down like a rodent to a cat’s gaping jaw. “So … any bright ideas? I’d suggest throwing cups of water but we can’t even afford those.”
    Sierra stopped in a phase of deep broad eyed thought. “You know, I’m pretty sure that place we’re looking for was on this street. I don’t see it anywhere else so…”
    Henry shuffled closer to the structure, listening ears pulling in what he could. “Does anyone hear a voice in there? I think I hear a voice. Someone’s in there.”
    “Not a chance. Nobody could survive in there,” Rum said.
    Lifting his coat against the heat, Henry braved nearer yet again. “It is a voice! Someone’s calling out!”
    It came barely audible at first, a low muffled cry of someone who hardly could. It peaked to a point of greater notice then died to nothing.
    Rum sniffed as if to ignore it. “It’s too early. The place wouldn’t even be open. Nobody would be in there.”   
    “I hear someone too,” Alex said, directing everyone’s attention to a laneway leading to a side entrance to the building. “The side gate’s been left open. Someone went in there recently.
    Sierra stepped nearer to Henry and the burning building. “Hope you’re sure about this. We’ll probably have to do something.”
    “I saw this in a movie once - the hero dies,” Rum said.
    “It wouldn’t be right. We can’t walk away if there’s someone trapped,” Sierra protested.
    Rum stroked his beard in contemplation. “Wait for the fire brigade. It’s their job, not ours.”
    “If they’re planning on coming they’ll be a while. It doesn’t even look like anyone’s noticed this yet. Rum, can’t you do something?”
    Rum backed off with hands up for defence. “To hell I say. I ain’t got nothing to do with this.”
    “Alex?” she pleaded.
    He didn’t respond, as though unable to hear over sounds of caving wood amidst the rasping blaze. A twitched glance at Sierra betrayed his sincerity.
    Trapped in hopelessness, she yelled at the top of her voice, “Hello! Is anyone in there!? Can you hear me!?
    “That ain’t gonna work, kid.”
    “At least she’s trying to do something,” Henry yelled.
    “That so? I don’t see you doing anything so don’t start saying shit like that to me. You’re the biggest pussy I’ve ever known so shut up and stay shut up.”
    “I’m … not afraid.”
    His own words forced him into an upright stance of realisation. A rush of adrenaline flushed through his blood, strengthening his bones. It wasn’t so much adrenaline but a memory of another time, another fire in another place.
    He mumbled to himself, “Leon ran away … and someone died.”
    His eyes locked on the side entrance. The concrete surface of the lane remained clear of fire. He found his legs moving without consent. He found himself plunging into the narrow passage. Behind, he could hear Sierra cry out for him:
    “Henry, what are you doing you twat!?”
    Her words faded to a muffled call under the crunching rasp of burning wood. It looked so easy from afar and for a moment Henry hesitated to turn back. The lane might have been clear but tips of flame dripped out like greedy hands stabbing at something to latch onto. Pulling his jacket over his head he rushed near blind until slamming against the