Rick looked at his hands. They were burning too, small flames playing across his blistering and bubbling palms. He rubbed them against his chest to douse the fire, but the pain almost made him faint and he knew above all he must stay conscious.
A finger dropped to the floor.
He screamed "Timmy!" as he slammed his weight against the door once again. The agony of a snapped collarbone stole his strength. He buckled to the floor.
He pushed again. Weakly. Vainly. Pointlessly.
"Daddy... I'm still burning!"
But this time the voice was laughing.
And it came from behind him.