"It's over," he yelled.
Ben and his injured shoulder: Ben said he was going to get well: Ben was majoring in math ...
Carson was a nice guy ...
Arthur said I'm the one and future king ...
Dennison coughed and blinked and walked about and wet his lips with his tongue.
"You nearly got yourself killed," Landel barked at Dennison. He waved his fire extinguisher at 67. "They're dead ... fried to a crisp ... you were a damn fool!"
Dennison barely understood ... he nodded.
Rubbing his eyes, he tried to lessen the sting of the smoke, the acid of burning rubber, the force of fear ... Presently, he saw Zinc beside him with a canteen of water in his hands.
"Drink."
He helped Dennison swab his face and sop his neck, his own hands trembling; he appeared a little idiotic without his helmet, his hair going every which way, but he smiled insanely. Grease streaked his forehead and beard and one ear was blobbed with oil.