Juan Harrison's Arc

Chapter 5 of 9

Juan stood outside Toolmaster's, the hardware store's wide glass doors reflecting his fedora back at him. Inside, he filled a red basket with rope, matches, and a second lighter. The clerk rang up his items without asking questions. Juan paid cash and walked out with a plastic bag swinging from his hand. Each purchase brought him closer to the night Mercury Solutions would burn. He felt the weight of the supplies and smiled. Progress felt good. He needed to test everything before the real night. Juan drove to the edge of town where an old wooden shed sat abandoned in an empty lot. The structure had charred edges from someone else's fire, but the frame still stood. He pulled rope from his bag and practiced tying knots around the doorframe, then lighting matches one after another to check how fast they caught. The lighter clicked reliable and steady. He doused a small pile of kindling and watched how quickly the flames spread up the wood grain. Smoke rose thick and black. He stomped it out and checked his watch. Thirty seconds from spark to full burn. Mercury Solutions would go faster with the right placement. That night, Juan walked into the Neon Billiards Hall and felt the tension drain from his shoulders. Green felt tables stretched across the room under hanging lights. Neon signs buzzed on brick walls, painting everything in pink and blue. He ordered a beer and racked the balls on an empty table. The crack of the break echoed through the space. Stripes and solids scattered across the felt. He sank three balls in a row, then missed the fourth. It didn't matter. He was here to feel good about what he'd accomplished. The blueprints, the supplies, the practice burns—everything was falling into place. He finished his beer and left a tip on the bar. Outside, Juan passed under the shade tree near the hardware store and paused. Three years of planning had brought him to this moment. His alibi witnesses were in place, his old keycard still worked, and Mercury Solutions hadn't changed a single lock. They thought they'd destroyed him, but he'd built something better in the ruins—a perfect plan with no loose ends. He touched the brim of his fedora and kept walking. Soon they would understand what it felt like to lose everything. Soon they would watch their building burn while he stood across the street, just another face in the crowd. The waiting was almost over.