 Archie stomped around the floor, and Tom heard the change in sound even before Archie pointed to a spot and growled out, “Dig, cocksucker.” He backed up, giving Tom room. Tom glared, and Archie laughed. “What? You thought it was a big secret? Bet you’ve been doing nuthin’ but thinkin’ ’bout sucking my cock.” Archie gave his crotch a jiggle, and Tom wanted to vomit. He took the shovel and turned his back on Archie, mumbling, “Think again.” Flames lapped along the top of the boiler room door, and as Tom beat the shovel on the floor boards, he refused to think what would happen if the boiler caught fire. “There’s nothing under here. The floor isn’t breaking.” “Hey!” Philip shouted, and Tom nearly passed out with relief. He turned in time to see Philip charge like a deranged bull through the door at Archie. When Philip reached for his gun, Archie swung the shovel in an arc, barely missing Philip. He swore when the shovel slammed against the wall, cracking the handle. Archie dropped it and grabbed a pick axe, aiming at Philip. A glancing blow to Philip’s wrist was enough to send the gun spinning from his grip. It wasn’t enough, however, to stop Philip. While smoke filled the room, making it difficult to see, Archie and Philip met each other head-on. Tom dropped the shovel so he could use both hands. He scrambled to the side, and began searching for a door he knew was there somewhere, but it was getting too hazy to see. Philip blocked a punch from Archie with his arm and delivered a hit of his own, powerful enough to send Archie reeling away. Tom knew full well the strength Philip possessed, having been lifted and held many times. Philip lunged forward, but his assault was met with an equal one by Archie. They scrambled for a few seconds, ending up rolling on the floor. Archie attained the upper hand by head-butting Philip. The blow seemed to stun Philip and lasted long enough for Archie to grab him by his collar and hold him at arm’s length. Three fast punches to Philip’s head and Tom saw blood everywhere. Archie threw him to the ground and pounced on him, both hands around his neck, pressing his full weight down on Philip’s throat. Philip beat Archie’s back and kicked his legs, but the angle was wrong and his efforts were futile. Tom didn’t think about what he was doing. Fire coursed along the ceiling. They had to get out. Archie was killing Philip. Tom grabbed the pick axe, lifted it over his head, and slammed it into Archie’s skull. Archie’s entire body jerked as blood immediately covered the top of his head. He gurgled, but it didn’t make sense. Philip pushed him away, and Archie staggered a step or two, then dropped to his knees before going face-first onto the floor. It seemed like forever before the hideous flailing of his arms and legs stopped. Philip climbed to his feet and rushed forward. Tom stared down at Archie; his entire body trembled and quaked. Smoke filled his lungs and burnt his throat. “I…k-killed….” “Shh…shh…it’ll be okay. Self-defense.” Philip’s voice was thick and raspy, and he coughed between words. Tom was wrapped in Philip’s strong, sure arms. He stepped as close to Philip as he could, squeezed his eyes shut, and pressed his head to Philip’s shoulder. The scent of soap and fresh laundry combined with one that was uniquely Philip. It sent a rush of comfort through Tom. Still holding him tight, Philip turned them and said, “We need to get out.” The floor under Tom’s feet cracked and groaned. He heard wood split and snap, then something sounding like thunder rolled through the floor. The ceiling above started to disintegrate. Bits of flaming wood dropped around them and embers flew like fireflies. Tom had a momentary sensation of weightlessness followed by euphoria and the thought he was always safe in Philip’s arms.     
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