Page 21 - Tank

“Explosions are different in real life.”

Annabelle looked at Tank. Petted his hand as the machines continued to beep. As
a nurse came in to check if he was still alive. Asked Matt if he was ready to pull the
plug. He simply shot the nurse a hard look. A look which made the nurse look
away.
‘The house didn’t blow up right away,” Matt continued.
He explained the basement filled up with gas first. Oozed out of every opening.
They could smell the gas in the street. Right about the time Matt believed the house
wouldn’t go up, it did.
The house exploded. Turned into shrapnel. The first thing to hit them was the
glass. Tiny bits of glass flew in all directions followed by wood and debris. Then the
heat wave hit. Seared several of them so bad they would have scars the rest of their
lives. Scars they were happy to have. A reminder of the day the owner and his hated
house died.
“The shockwave was so hard windows broke in every house for a mile in all
directions,” Matt continued. “Most of us boys couldn’t hear anything but a ringing
in our ears.”
Silence settled into the room. A lone tear fell from Matt’s face. After all this time
he was still glad they’d done it. If it meant he rotted in hell, he would do it all over
again.
"The fire fighters and EMT's tended to our wounds,” Matt began his story again.
The firefighters watched as what was left of the house continued to burn long after
they got the gas turned off. Later, the news would remark on how none of the boys
would leave. Each waited until the house was completely burned. Each waited until
they pulled the owner’s burnt corpse from the basement.
“Don’t be harsh on Tank,” Matt said as he turned to look into Annabelle’s eyes.
Eyes filled with understanding, not judgment. “He did what needed to be done. Did
what no one else would do.”