Stephen chokes and gurgles, trying to snap his mouth closed, but Lev’s muscles are locked in— his grip on Stephen’s mouth firm. Gasoline pours down his body, flowing like a stream out of his mouth. Satisfied with my efforts, I turn to Wyatt and nod, ready to take my spot. Wyatt takes position, aims, and before he fires the flare, he roars, “Burn in fucking hell!”
