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by turns clear and confounded； as the wind brought choking smoke in his direction； then carried it away again。 He pulled off his leather jacket and threw it over his head as primitive protection against the heat； then ducked through the fence。 There was solid flame in front of him； making the way forward impassable。 He tried to his left and found a gap between two blazing vehicles。 Dodging between them； the smell of singeing leather already sharp in his nostrils； he found himself in the middle of the pound； a space relatively free of bustible material； and thus of fire。 But on every side； the flames had hold。 Only three of the trailers weren't blazing； and the veering wind would soon carry the flame in their direction。 How many of the inhabitants had fled before the flames took hold he couldn't know； but it was certain there'd be no further escapees。 The heat was nearly unbearable。 It beat upon him from every side； cooking his thoughts to incoherence。 But he held on to the image of the creature he'd e to find； determined not to desert the pyre until he had that face in his hands or knew beyond doubt it was ash。
A dog appeared from the smoke； barking hysterically。
As it ran past him a fresh eruption of fire drove it back the way it had e； its panic escalating。 Having no better route； he chased its tail through the chaos； calling Pie's name as he ran； though each breath he took was hotter than the last； and after a few such shouts the name was a rasp。 He'd lost the dog in the smoke； and all sense of direction at the same time。 Even if the way was still clear he no longer knew where it lay。 The world was fire on every side。
Somewhere up ahead he heard the dog again； and thinking now that maybe the only life he'd claim from this horror was the hound's； he ran in search of it。 Tears were pouring from his smoke…stung eyes； he could barely focus on the ground he was stumbling across。 The barking stopped again； leaving him without a beacon。 There was no way to go but forward； hoping the silence didn't mean the dog had succumbed。 It hadn't。 He spotted it ahead of him now； cowering in terror。
As he drew a breath to call it to him he saw the figure beyond it； stepping from the smoke。 The fire had taken its toll on Pie 'oh' pah； but he was at least alive。 His eyes； like Gentle's； streamed。 There was blood at his mouth and neck and； in his arms； a forlorn bundle。 A child。
〃Are there more？〃 Gentle yelled。
Pie's reply was to glance back over his shoulder； towards a heap of debris that had once been a trailer。 Rather than draw another lung…cooking breath to reply； Gentle started towards this bonfire but was intercepted by Pie； who passed over the child in his arms；
〃Take her；〃 he said。
Gentle threw aside his jacket and took the child。
〃Now get out！〃 Pie said。 〃I'll follow。〃
He didn't wait to see his instruction obeyed but turned back towards the debris。
Gentle looked down at the child he was carrying。 She was bloody and blackened； surely dead。 But perhaps life could be pumped back into her if he was quick。 What was the fastest route to safety？ The way he'd e was blocked now； and the ground ahead littered with burning wreckage。 Between left and right； he chose left； because he heard the incongruous sound of somebody whistling somewhere in the smoke： at least proof that breath could be drawn in that direction。
The dog came with him； but only for a few steps。 Then it retreated again； despite the fact that the air was cooler by the step； and a gap in the flames was visible ahead。 Visible； but not empty。 As Gentle headed for the place a figure stepped out from behind one of the bonfires。 It was the whistler； still practicing his craft； though his hair was burning and his hands； raised in front of him； were smoking ruins。 He turned his head as he walked and looked at Gentle。
The tune he whistled was charmless； but it was sweet beside the stare he had。 His eyes were like mirrors； reflecting the fires： they flared and smoked。 This was the fire setter； he realized； or one of them。 That was why it whistled as it burned； because this was its paradise。 It didn't attempt to lay its carbonized hands on either Gentle or the child but walked on into the smoke； turning its stare back towards the blaze as it did so； leaving Gentle's route to the perimeter clear。 The cooler air was heady； it dizzied him； made him stumble。 He held on tight to the child； his only thought now to get it out into the street； in which endeavor he was aided by two masked firemen who'd seen his approach and came to meet him now； arms outstretched。 One took the child from him； the other bore him up as his legs gave way beneath him。
〃There's people alive in there！〃 he said； looking back towards the fire。 〃You've got to get them out！〃
His rescuer didn't leave his side till he'd got Gentle through the fence and into the street。 Then there were other hands to take charge。 Ambulance attendants with stretchers and blankets； telling him that he was safe now and everything would be all right。 But it wasn't； not as long as Pie was in the fire。 He shrugged off the blanket and refused the oxygen mask they were ready to clamp to his face； insisting that he wanted no help。 With so many others in need； they didn't waste time attempting to persuade him but went to aid those who were sobbing and shrieking on all sides。 They were the lucky ones； who had voices to raise。 He saw others being carried past who were too far gone to plain； and still others lying beneath makeshift shrouds on the pavement； blackened limbs jutting out here and there。
He turned his back on this horror and began to make his way around the edge of the encampment。 The fence was being torn down to allow the hoses； which thronged the street like mating snakes； access to the fire。 The engines pumped and roared； their reeling blue lights no petition for the fierce brightness of the fire itself。 By that blaze he saw a substantial crowd had gathered to watch。 They raised a cheer as the fence was toppled； sending plagues of fireflies up as it fell。 He moved on as the firefighters advanced into the conflagration； bringing their hoses to bear on the heart of the fire。 By the time he'd made a half circuit of the site and was standing opposite the breach they'd made； the flames were already in retreat in several places； smoke and steam replacing their fury。 He watched them gain ground from his new vantage point； hoping for some glimpse of life； until the appearance of another two machines and a further group of firefighters drove him on around the perimeter； back to the place from which he'd emerged。
There was no sign of Pie 'oh' pah； either being carried from the blaze or standing among those few survivors who； like Gentle； had refused to be taken away to be tended。 The smoke issuing from the fire's steady defeat was thickening； and by the time he got back to the row of bodies on the pavement…the number of which had doubled…the whole scene was barely visible through the pall。 He looked down at the shrouded forms。 Was one of them Pie 'oh' pah？ As he approached the nearest of them a hand was laid on his shoulder； and he turned to face a policeman whose features were those of a boy soprano； smooth and troubled。
〃Aren't you the one who brought out the kid？〃 he said。
〃Yes。 Is she all right？〃
〃I'm sorry； mate。 I'm afraid she's dead。 Was she your kid？〃
He shook his head。 〃There was somebody else。 A black guy with long curly hair。 He had blood on his face。 Has he e out of there？〃
Formal language now： 〃I haven't seen anybody。of that description。〃
Gentle looked back towards the bodies on the pavement。
〃It's no use looking there；〃 the policeman said。 〃They're all black now； whatever color they started out。〃
〃I have to look；〃 Gentle said。
〃I'm telling you it's no use。 You wouldn't recognize them。 Why don't you let me put you in an ambulance？ You need seeing to。〃
〃No。 I have to keep looking；〃 Gentle said； and was about to move off when the policeman took hold of his arm。
〃I think you'd be better away from the fence； sir；〃 he said。 〃There's some danger of explosions。〃
〃But he could still be in there。〃
〃If he is； sir； I think he's gone。 There's not much chance of anybody else ing out alive。 Let me take you to the police line。 You can watch from there。〃
Gentle shook off the man's hold。
〃I'll go；〃 he said。 〃I don't need an escort。〃
It took an hour for the fire to be finally brought under control； by which time it had little left to consume。 During that hour all Gentle could do was wait behind the cordon and watch as the ambulances came and went； ferrying the last of the injured away and then taking the bodies。 As the boy soprano had predicted； no further victims were brought out； dead or alive； though Gentle waited until all but a few late arrivals among the crowd had left； and the fire was almost pletely doused。 Only when the last of the firelighters emerged from the crematorium； and the hoses were turned off； did he give up hope。 It was almost two in the morning。 His limbs were burdened with exhaustion； but they were light beside the weight in his chest。 To go heavyhearted was no poet's conceit： it felt as though the pump had turned to lead and was bruising the plush meat o