Travis Starnes
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Elegy - Chapter 13
🕑 Added 2023-06-14 20:14:07 +0000 UTC“Make some noise for Charlie Nelson and the Wild Cats,” the DJ’s voice floated from the booth tucked away in the back, giving us our cue to burst through the steel double doors of the loading dock and up onto the stage.
As the double doors opened, we were hit by a wave of sound as people cheered for us. I didn’t think I’d ever not love that feeling. While not the biggest crowd we’d played for, it was the biggest we’d ever had in an indoor venue, which made everything sound ten times louder. What would have been cheering and clapping at the last place we played was almost thunderous inside the converted warehouse.
Jogging onto the stage, I grabbed the mic and pulled it to my mouth, my voice booming over the sound system, “Hello, Raleigh.”
The cheers crescendoed at the mention of their city. That was one thing I’d picked up from watching my dad perform. The easiest applause line for any performer was just saying the name of the city you’re in. It’s a live performance cheat code.
“It’s Saturday night and sometimes we all just gotta cut loose and throw caution to the wind, am I right?” I said, to another wave of cheers. “Go out and hit the bars. Drop it at the club. And if things go really well, maybe even have a One Night Stand.”
As soon as I said the cue, Seth gave us our count-in and we were off. Our opening chords echoed through the amps, and the crowd surged forward, starting to jump with the beat. My fingers flew over the frets of my guitar, muscle memory taking over. This song was a staple every weekend at the Blue Ridge, and I’d played it hundreds of times by now, but it never got old.
Lyla really had a hit when she brought this to us, and we were using it as our opener a lot more often. It got the crowd ramped up and was a good way to start things off with a bang before we slowed it down a little bit and then ramped it back up for the climax and our closing, which tonight was going to be The Little Things.
I scanned the crowd as I sang, like I always did, looking for people I could focus on. I found that locking in on someone helped me get the vibe of the crowd, and that energy fed back into my performance. This time, however, I didn’t lock onto anyone because something was bothering me. Because most of my attention was on playing my guitar and singing, it took me a minute to work out what felt off.
Finally, it hit me. I could only see three staff members, and only one of them looked like security. There were maybe ten people during the tech setup, but now there was just one security guy by the stage, standing next to the guy who introduced us, and one of the tech guys I’d seen when we’d been setting up.
For a crowd this size, especially indoors, that wasn’t nearly enough. Hell, some of the bars we’d played only held two hundred and fifty, and they had twice that, with half being security.
We hit the bridge after the second verse, where the guitar part backed off so we had a spot for Seth to get the spotlight with no vocals. It only lasted for about twenty seconds, but it was enough for me to step back to Lyla.
“Are you seeing this? There’s almost no staff,” I said, leaning over to her.
I didn’t think she’d clocked it yet because her brows furrowed as she scanned the crowd, realization setting in.
“What do we do?” she asked.
“See if you can flag down Warren,” I said, moving back into position for the chorus. I could see Marco out of my peripheral vision, looking like he was exchanging glances with Seth, probably wondering what that was about or why Lyla was desperately looking around.
Normally, I wouldn’t worry about it. I’d played a few shows that got out of hand, but none since Warren had been booking gigs for us, so I didn’t think it was likely we’d run into problems. With what happened this afternoon, though, I was nervous.
The chords of One Night Stand faded out, and we seamlessly transitioned into Backstage, my worry about the crowd and security fading away as I focused on the intro. It was much more complex than One Night Stand and required more concentration to get it right.
I just hit the last note of the intro, ready for Seth and Lyla to come in hard, when I heard a loud popping noise by the edge of the stage, followed by a bright flash of light that stunned me for a moment, my vision going white. As the bright flash cleared, spots danced before my eyes, the world reduced to a blur of colors and indistinct shapes. I blinked rapidly, taking my hands off my guitar and rubbing my eyes, but everything remained hazy and doubled.
For a moment, I almost panicked until my vision started to clear in patches, the stage coming back into view bit by bit. By then, the situation had already spiraled out of control. The edge of the stage closest to Marco, just where the short had been during the soundcheck, was in flames, the fire starting to spread along the skirting that covered and hid the underside of the stage.
Flames started riding up one of the side supports, using the banners and draped fabric running up the metal frame to travel up toward the ceiling. I could already feel the heat coming off the rapidly growing fire and smell the pungent smoke that was rolling out from under the stage where, presumably, more electronics were burning.
Panic rippled out as people scrambled away from the spreading fire, but no one was really moving, instead, they were just pushing at the wall of people behind them that seemingly refused to budge. It took a second for me to understand the problem, looking over their heads toward the front.
The entrance was a single door, and people were blocking it as they all tried to push through the small entryway at the same time, no one giving way to let anyone else through.
We had to get off this stage.
“Get off the stage,” I yelled, as the fire continued to grow, threatening to trap us up here. The wooden floorboards at the edge of the stage had started to burn, and the entire thing would be covered in flames shortly. The heat was becoming suffocating, making it hard to breathe.
As I started down the stairs, the front corner of the stage that had been burning the longest gave way under the weight of the large stack of speaker cabinets standing on it. One of the stacks fell towards me, almost squashing Lyla as it landed across the stairs leading off the stage. I only just managed to get an arm around her and pulled her back as the large black boxes slammed into the stairs and then rolled down, settling on the concrete floor.
Warren wasn’t as lucky. As I yanked Lyla back, I looked to my side in time to see the other stack fall on Warren, whose attention was on the crowd at that moment. I tried to yell a warning, but it was too late to help him.
Letting go of Lyla, I dropped the guitar that had still been hanging off my neck, vaulted over the speaker in our path, and dashed to his side, straining to pull the speaker off him. I’d been building a lot of muscle over the last year and a half, but it wasn’t weight-lifting kind of muscle, and this thing must have weighed three hundred pounds.
“Help me,” I yelled, taking in a big gulp of the inky smoke that was starting to gather around us.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long, as Seth was by my side almost instantly. Together, we pulled the speaker off Warren and dropped it to the side.
He had blood leaking from a gash on his head, and his knee was turned at an unnatural angle.
“Gaahh!” he screamed as I tried to get my arms under him and pull him out.
“His leg is broken badly,” Lyla said. “We have to immobilize it before we drag him out of here.”
Crouching beside him, Lyla grabbed two pieces of wood that had broken off the stage with the speakers and smashed off the still-smoking sections. Putting them on either side of his leg, she took off the flannel shirt she’d been wearing and wrapped it around the wood-flanked leg, tying it and pulling it tight, eliciting another scream of pain from him.
“Sorry. We just need it stable to move you. Help me pull him back.”
The three of us pulled Warren safely away from the stage that was now almost entirely covered in flames. Worse, the flames had made it up to the ceiling and were starting to crawl along whatever they coated the faux factory-style ceiling with.
The crowd was still pushing towards the door at the front, and it wasn’t moving, or at least it wasn’t moving fast enough to get everyone out before the whole building went up. The one security guy I’d seen earlier was nowhere in sight, probably swallowed up in the crowd. If he was in that mess, he wasn’t going to be in a position to help anyone.
“Seth, go get those double doors open and the rolling door to the warehouse,” I said, pointing at the doors we’d made our entry through.
Seth nodded sharply and dashed off to the doors.
“Marco,” I turned, looking for Marco, to get him to start directing the crowd.
Marco was struggling under the weight of his synth, which he’d somehow managed to unhook and carry off the stage before it went up.
“Put that down. This whole place is going to go up. We need to get these people out of here.”
“Fuck you. Do you know how much this cost?”
“Yes, and if you don’t put it down right now, this is the last show you’re ever playing with us. Drop it and start directing the crowd out through the double doors. Have Seth help you once he’s got the exit clear.”
He glared at me, but he dropped it.
“Can you get him out, or do you need help?” I asked Lyla, who was wrapping a cloth around Warren’s head, which had started to bleed more seriously.
“I can walk,” Warren said through gritted teeth.
“Okay. Help him outside, then call nine-one-one. They’re probably on their way already, but let them know we have injured people.”
“Okay,” she said, putting an arm under Warren’s and helping him to stand.
She limped off, dragging Warren, who made grunting noises with each step as he tried to fight the pain.
“Come on, people,” I screamed, running up to the back of the crowd and pulling people out, turning them towards the now-open double doors. “Go that way. Run.”
It took a few minutes of pulling people before the bulk of the crowd started realizing something was happening and breaking from their lemming-like terror to look around, finally seeing the exit clear to the outside. Marco was a few feet away, doing the same. I couldn’t believe he tried to save his synth before actual people, but that was something we’d have to deal with later.
I’d just pushed another college-age guy towards the rear exit when a sudden realization hit me. Hanna and Kat were still in the merch booth on the other side of the venue. I had to get to them.
I shoved through the mass of people, keeping my head down and using my shoulders to forge a path. The roar of flames grew deafening, drowning out the panicked screams. I was sweating hard, both from the heat of the flames and the people around me, and from fear that I might not get to the girls in time.
After what seemed like an eternity, I finally broke through the wall of people with a gasp. Even as I’d been pushing my way through, I’d kept yelling at people to get out the exit at the back. Thankfully, I managed to open up a small space, enough for me to hop up on the counter, pushing some of our t-shirts back on the floor behind it. Dark smoke and soot were already collecting in the ceiling of the booth, getting trapped there by the low window that served as the sales window, which I was crouched on.
I had a rag, that I normally kept hanging from my back pocket to wipe sweat off my face during shows, held tight over my mouth, as I tried to stay below the level of the smoke, and still, I could barely breathe.
“Kat! Hanna!”
Two figures emerged from underneath the counter where they’d taken refuge, faces streaked with soot. Kat gazed at me with wide eyes, her face full of terror.
“We couldn’t get out. The crowd trapped us against the wall,” she said, her voice shaking.
I reached a hand out to pull her over the counter and into the area I’d just cleared on the other side.
“You’re safe now. Let’s get you out of here.”
Kat went over quickly but stopped to wait for us. Although the crowd had thinned, there were still people pushing and shoving, and I was worried she might get run over if she stayed there long.
“The merch, we’re going to lose everything,” Hanna said, coughing, as I pulled her over.
“Hey, look at me.” I waited until her watery eyes met mine. “We’ll figure something out. The important thing is that we’re safe. The rest of it is just stuff. We can recover from this.”
I smoothed her hair back from her face, wiping away a smudge of ash with my thumb. I needed her calm. Kat seemed inconsolable at the moment, not even holding it together, so I needed Hanna at least coherent enough to help me get her out the back.
She saw me look at Kat and gave a hard nod, wiping the tears that had collected on her cheeks and jumping off the counter.
More of the burning coating from the ceiling dropped down around us, sending up showers of cinders. We flinched away from the blasts of heat. A few pieces here or there hit a patron, sticking to them like tar. I wanted to run and help them, but I needed to get my friends out before the whole roof came down.
We pushed our way along with the bulk of the remaining crowd to the exit. People pushed as they went past, acting like the crowd was made out of water and they could power stroke their way through. It was a panic response, and they probably didn’t even notice as they almost took Kat to the floor in their haste. I shielded the girls from the crush, continuing to try and get them out safely.
And then suddenly, we were out. The thick, roiling smoke that had been burning my lungs was gone, replaced by a taste of crisp, cool February air.
People were everywhere, watching the building burn. They were across the street, almost standing in a ditch, they were in the street, gawking, and they were still flowing out of the building. Some were injured, being carried out by others, limping or with ugly burns.
It was like a scene out of a nightmare. In the distance, I could see the flashing red and blue of emergency vehicles rushing our way. We were going to be okay. I found the rest of the guys, huddled around Warren who was practically hanging off Seth. They were thrilled to see the dirty and completely disheveled messes that were Kat and Hanna safe and uninjured.
As shows go, I couldn’t imagine we’d ever again have one this bad in my entire career!
Comments
Travis Starnes
This was exactly what I was thinking of when I wrote it, although I did give mine a happier ending.
Steve Anderson
Brought back memories of the Great White / Station Nightclub Fire in Warwick, RI... I was managing a Hollywood Video store and had an employee who lost a brother in the fire... Unfortunately in that fire, there wasn't roll-up and double doors to save everyone.
