Lester - Third Degree Burns

The firewood spontaneously combusted, as if it had been waiting years for this chance. Caligula’s eyes widened with panic, perhaps just now beginning to understand. Flames roared around Frank’s body, sparking the oil in one of the grooves on the asphalt—a liquid fuse, racing in both directions to the crates and traffic barrels that packed the tunnel. The emperors weren’t the only ones who kept a supply of Greek fire.

I am not proud of what happened next. As Frank became a column of flame, and the emperor Caligula disintegrated into white-hot embers, I followed Frank’s last order. I leaped over Commodus and ran for open air. At my back, the Caldecott Tunnel erupted like a volcano.

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The Tyrant’s Tomb, Chapter 36

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A THIRD-DEGREE BURN was the least painful thing I carried from that tunnel.

I staggered into the open, my back sizzling, my hands steaming, every muscle in my body feeling like it had been scored with razorblades. Before me spread the remaining forces of the emperors: hundreds of battle-ready warriors. In the distance, stretched across the bay, fifty yachts waited, primed to fire their doomsday artillery.

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The Tyrant’s Tomb, Chapter 37