A blazing inferno

Curtis

I have always had accurate instincts. I rarely made wrong decisions, but this was one of those times I wished I was wrong about something.

Once I heard that fire alarm—or rather, once it stopped—my senses were heightened. The smell of smoke wafted into my office, so mild that I couldn’t be sure whether it was real or an olfactory hallucination.

I didn’t want to take chances. If anything were to go wrong, hundreds of lives would be in danger. So I dashed out of my office and stopped Beanie when I saw him by the staircase.

“Is everything—”

“Don’t admit anyone into the club,” I instructed before his sentence was completely out.

He looked confused. “But sir, the queue is practically a mile long. What should I tell them?”

I left without answering. He would figure it out. If my instinct was right, he wouldn’t have to tell anyone anything—because he would be too busy running for his life. I didn’t want to cause unnecessary chaos so I didn’t tell him about my suspicion. Not until