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Naya and Zack both looked at each other. He said, “How was that bad?”
“More fluorine was added to the foam because of its performance-boosting effects. But the chemical also contains high levels of PFAS. Any runoff from the use of one would contaminate the ground and water supply long term.”
Naya’s breath hitched. “How’d he figure it out?”
“He was in charge of all the safety data sheets. Including what chemicals were used in each product creation.” Powells rubbed a hand down his face. “He showed me the list. Did some research. Confirmed the toxicity levels of the fluorine in the products were way too high for human exposure.”
“Have you been following the news lately?”
“Why would I?” The man’s brow furrowed. “There’s more than enough for me to worry about for myself without getting entangled in other people’s drama. I learned that the hard way with Douglas.”
Naya blinked. “So you’d rather save your own skin?”
“I warned you, didn’t I?” Powells stood up. “I really hope this doesn’t bring more trouble on you, but I can’t be part of it.”
“Your friend was killed by people determined to bury the truth.” Naya stood up, though with her smaller height, it didn’t put them on an equal footing. “All you’re going to do is hide? People are getting sick from water contamination. More people will lose their lives if you don’t say something.”
“I’ve already said more than enough. It’s time for the two of you to leave.” He ushered them toward the door.
Zack crossed his arms. “I think you need?—”
Glass shattered next to them, and the window broke inward, spraying across the room. Something rolled across the floor, spewing out flames.
Naya screamed.
A pop followed. A whoosh filled the space, and the curtains caught fire.
FIFTEEN
Zack grabbed Naya’s shoulders and pulled her and Powells away from the flames. “Stay back. Naya, call 9-1-1.”
She nodded, already reaching for her phone.
The once dark room was now illuminated by an unwanted orange glow. One that was too close to the kitchen cabinets. Soon, the whole house would be on fire.
“Where’s your fire extinguisher?” Zack yelled.
Powells cupped his hands. “Under the sink.”
Zack kept his back flush to the wall and skirted past the flames in front of him. The heat stung his face, but he wouldn’t let it deter him. Not when someone wanted the place to crumble into a heap of ashes—with them inside it. He wrapped his hand inside his shirt before he pulled on the handle, just in case it was hot.
He grabbed the fire extinguisher from its holder and pulled the pin. Zack couldn’t think about the irony of the situation now. Using a product his dad had died for in order to save Naya and Powells from the same fate.
Foam spewed from the canister, and smoke rose from the curtains.
Zack let out a cough and buried his mouth close to his chest.
Powells raced to his side with a bucket and splashed the water along the curtains. The flames hissed before going dark, and more gray smoke billowed up to the ceiling and out of the window.
They needed to get out of here. If the fire didn’t get to them, the smoke inhalation would.
“I knew they’d come back. I never should have agreed to this meeting.” Powells dropped the pail on the floor with a clank.
“Who? Tell me who did this.”
Maybe the former fire chief was right. If it meant more people were at risk of getting hurt, Zack should stop his investigation. Let whoever was behind his parents’ deaths live with the guilty conscience.
But what would that solve?