Damien cracked open an Etch A Sketch and poured the tiny aluminum balls and powder onto one of the trays he’d taken from the supermarket. He cracked open another Etch A Sketch and poured its contents onto a second tray.
‘You’re not making thermite, are you?’ Grace said.
‘No, not this time. Add the coffee creamer. And the other ingredients.’
Grace ripped open a packet of flour first. ‘In all the trays?’
Damien nodded, and cracked open the last Etch A Sketch. Still kneeling, he shuffled the trays toward the balcony. ‘OK, guys,’ he said, talking to the rest of their team. ‘Get ready.’
He lifted the industrial fan and, using the extension cord Grace had found, positioned it behind the trays. All six were loaded with Damien’s particular recipe. He plucked a box of matches from his pocket a
