Derek's scream merged with the roar of the explosion.
The secondary blast blew half the doorframe off its hinges. Flames erupted outward, licking the ceiling and engulfing the room in a wave of heat. Derek let out a blood-curdling shriek as his body convulsed.
Then came the smell—the sickly sweet stench of burning flesh.
His hands.
Moments ago, he had been gripping the lab bench for support. Now, exposed to the flash fire, his skin curled and split, leaving his hands a charred, bloody ruin.
The blast knocked the girl off balance, but the thought of two million dollars drove her forward. Gritting her teeth, she lunged through the smoke, grabbed Derek's arm, and hauled him backward with all her strength.
"Stop! It hurts! Let go!"
Derek's wails were guttural, piercing the roar of the fire.
His right leg was still pinned under the steel frame. Her violent yank tore at the trapped limb, sending spasms of agony through his body.
"My hands! My hands are ruined!"
Deaf to his pleas, the girl braced her feet and dragged him out from under the debris. Derek collapsed onto the floor, curling into a fetal ball. He clutched his mangled hands to his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.