Free A Barlow Lens by Elizabeth Noble Page B

the heat and stuffy room.
    â€œClass, close your books and take your drawing supplies out. Last year my class made a book about the school and the history of the building. I think today is a good day to begin that project again.”
    Tom smiled at the response. His students immediately perked up, and a few began talking excitedly, offering ideas. He’d barely gotten them settled again when one of the girls asked, “Mr. Manning, what is that smell?”
    As soon as the girl’s words were spoken, it seemed as if the room filled with a noxious smell. It was the kind that left a bad taste in your mouth. Tom strode to the windows and began opening them.
    He turned to the class and said, “Everyone stay seated. I’ll see—”
    The sound of breaking glass was followed almost immediately by what Tom thought was some kind of explosion and loud crashing of metal against the floors of the hall. Yanking the door of his classroom open, Tom was assaulted by heat, thick, dark smoke, and an acrid odor.
    All at once there were screaming, panicked children trying to flood out the door and into the hall, which was already cloudy with smoke.
    â€œNo, stop! Everyone. Hold hands. We’ll get out. I’ll get you out.” By some miracle Tom regained order and got all the students paired with someone, holding hands. His room was at the very end of the hall, and he had all the older children, which was a great stroke of luck in a situation such as this.
    They made their way down the hall. There were four large classrooms in that section of the school. Children and teachers were already vacating two of them. Tom stopped by the one closed door and opened it. The room was empty.
    â€œMolly, lead the rest of the class and go with Mrs. Chase’s class.” Tom ushered his students closer to the other class. He looked over their heads, getting the attention of Mrs. Chase. “The room looks empty, but I’m going to check to be sure.”
    Tom ducked into the room, using the crook of his arm to cover his mouth as he wound his way through desks. The smoke was thicker, and the odor was starting to make him light-headed. He had no idea what could be causing it but knew the section at the very end of the hall was used to store not only classroom extras, but paints, cleaning supplies, and general items for building maintenance. He was sure it was all very flammable and very noxious.
    Just as he was crossing the threshold to the hallway, there was a low rumble from the far end of the building. Like thunder it escalated and then erupted in an ear-splitting explosion. The glass in the classroom windows, as well as the doors, splintered and burst.
    Tom covered his ears and darted toward the wide steps. The children were screaming and crying; the other three teachers had divided them and had them going single file down each side of the stairs.
    â€œDon’t run, hang onto the railing, but walk as fast as you can.” Tom urged them along faster. Smoke was billowing down the steps as if hunting his children.
    When they got to the bottom of the steps, the scene was worse. The entire center section of the school was fully aflame. The sound was deafening, and many of the children followed Tom’s example and covered their ears. Controlled chaos of a minute ago gave way to full panic.
    â€œThe side door, through the teachers’ room!” one of the other teachers called. They began herding students to the right. Amid shouts and cries of children trying to find a sibling or begging not to die, Mrs. Chase made her way to the door. She grabbed the handle and tried opening it, but it wouldn’t budge.
    â€œIt’s locked from the outside!”
    Tom waded through the mass of children packing into the room. “Back up. Give me room.” Tom kicked at the door. When it rattled and cracked, he used one shoulder, trying to force it open.
    Mrs. Chase had gotten the one small window in the room open,