"Weapons," Chase added to the list. "I think the molotov stuff is in the kitchen still."
He picked up the torch he'd been rolling and stood, moving towards the door to light it somewhere other than the middle of the building in case something went wrong. Using Ivy's oil was one thing, burning down her room was something else. Nervous, cold fingers made it so that it took a couple of strikes from the lighter to actually get the flame going, and he lit the torch easily, the oil combusting as he'd thought it would. It blinded him for a second, but just the fact that he could see now caused a wave of relief over him. Much better.
He hoped that Owen was right, they'd they'd run into others, or that maybe the house wouldn't be as bad as the mill. Something had to be safe.