The rain had stopped by this point, but everything around them was wet, including the dirty concrete. Please don’t go out midway, Finn thought, as if he could somehow telepathically beseech the tiny flame that flickered over the twisted yarn.
“Come on; we should get inside.” Siobhan pulled his arm, and Finn followed her back to the office building. As much as he wanted to make sure the fire wasn’t extinguished, being anywhere near it was a bad idea.
“As soon as they run, we have to grab Spencer and get out this way,” Finn whispered as they reached the corridor, mostly to take the edge off the tense anticipation. “Whatever we do, we need to find shelter before we all freeze. Somewhere they won’t come looking.”
“The public library is not far from here. There would be plenty of kindling there to keep us warm through the night. If he’s in any condition to walk, we can hide there,” Siobhan said, huddling against the wall. “If they even bother with a search when they find he’s gone, they’d probably go to his apartment—that’s in the opposite direction.”
Finn nodded, but in truth, he was barely listening. The voices echoed in the lobby, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. What was happening to Spencer? And why wasn’t anything happening with their improvised detonation? Surely it should have gone off by now?
“Something is wrong,” he said, turning to the exit. “Maybe I should check—”
An explosion shook the building, immediately followed by another, which was most likely the second gas tank igniting. It sent Finn sprawling onto his back, with plaster raining down on him from the ceiling and the entire corridor filling up with dust. Siobhan cowered, her hands over her head.
Finn rolled over and pushed up onto all fours, shaking his head to get rid of the ringing in his ears. He’d been waiting for the explosion, yet the magnitude of it took him by surprise. Heart pounding, he turned to look outside, through the back door. It seemed Siobhan had been right—the office building had withstood the blow, but a reddish glare gave evidence to the fire that raged nearby. The commotion in the lobby filtered through the haze—raised voices, cursing, the thudding echo of someone running in heavy boots.
Finn swallowed. His throat constricted painfully, and he had to remind himself there was still enough air around. The fear is messing with your head. Breathe. It’s now or never.
He barely waited until the footsteps dwindled into the distance before running to the end of the corridor and peering into the lobby. The floor had all but disappeared under the layer of plaster and glass from the shattered windows. Outside, the night was lit with the aftermath of the explosion, but he couldn’t see where the men had gone. With Siobhan following closely on his heels, Finn rushed to the smothered bonfire and the prostrate figure right next to it.
Chapter Nine
AS FINN HAD predicted, Spencer’s captors hadn’t bothered with him in their hurry to get out of the building. He lay amid the discarded jugs of booze and pieces of outerwear, like a forgotten rag doll.
Finn knelt beside him. His hands shook as he rolled Spencer onto his back as carefully as he could, and he had to bite his lip to stop from breaking down in a sobbing mess. Please be all right. There was no doubt Siobhan and he had done everything they could, had acted as fast as possible to help Spencer, but if it turned out they were too late, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.
Spencer’s face, patchily illuminated by the distant glow, was bruised and battered. Blood oozed from a split lip and a nasty gash on his left cheek. But when Finn brushed matted hair off his forehead, Spencer’s eyelashes fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes.
“Oh, thank God,” Siobhan said emphatically behind him, and Finn could only nod in agreement. He didn’t trust his voice; it was all he could do not to get choked up.
But he had no time to bask in relief. Chunks of plaster were still coming off the ceiling, and Finn thought he could spot long cracks running through the walls, deepening with every passing minute. The building may have not collapsed from the blast, but the fire was spreading rapidly, and they were running the risk of getting trapped inside. Not to mention they could still be caught unawares by Spencer’s kidnappers returning to gather their stuff or, more unlikely, check on their prisoner. They had to move now.
Finn half lifted Spencer and held him under the arms, eliciting a low groan from him.
“Grab his legs,” he told Siobhan.
“No.” Spencer’s voice was barely audible, but firm. “I can walk.”
“Are you sure?”
With Finn’s help, Spencer pushed himself to sit upright, wincing with every movement, and had to pause to catch his breath. He clearly wasn’t in the best of shape. But considering that merely minutes ago, Finn wasn’t sure he was alive, Spencer being able to move at all was miraculous.
There were a million things Finn wanted to ask him, but catching up, however urgent, would have to wait. For the moment, he was contented to have Spencer’s warm, solid body against his own as he helped him to his feet. Siobhan supported him from the other side, slinging Spencer’s arm around her shoulders.
But as much as they tried to hurry, they weren’t fast enough. Black smoke filled the back corridor, already billowing into the lobby and effectively cutting off their retreat. Siobhan coughed violently, and Finn could almost imagine the soot particles itching at the back of his throat. The acrid smell and the heat brought forth a slew of unwanted memories, back from the days the megaton explosions shook the world and covered the sky with poisonous vapors.
“That way.” Finn panted, pointing to the front entrance. He almost had to shout to make himself heard over the roar of the fire next door. He could only pray that the thugs weren’t hanging out outside. It would be just his luck—to be caught when Spencer was safe in his arms.
Siobhan nodded, still coughing, and together, they led Spencer toward the exit. Finn was worried that Spencer had exaggerated his strength, but he hobbled along determinately, favoring his left leg. It seemed as if, despite their fear to the contrary, they’d succeeded in reaching Spencer before his tormentors had had the chance to inflict irreparable damage.
Finn peered cautiously through the door, which the kidnappers had left open in their haste. The fire reflected off the few surviving windowpanes in the surrounding buildings, casting the entire block in an ominous glare that bled into the deeper shadows between the structures. As far as he could see, the street was empty, the other men either gone or hiding. Either way, they still had to be cautious and stay away from the areas illuminated by the fire.
“We should cross behind that parking garage and head north by the back alleys,” Finn said. “Siobhan, you and Spencer go ahead, get out of the open. I’ll catch up with you.”
“What are you doing?” Siobhan asked in concern. She and Spencer were holding on to each other, and both turned to look at Finn when he gently let go and stepped away.
“I’m going to fetch something and be right back.”
“Finn, wait,” Spencer called after him, but Finn had already darted back into the office-building lobby. It was filling up with smoke, but he knew exactly what he was after. Earlier, he’d spotted Spencer’s shotgun, forgotten in a pile of rubbish next to the bonfire—though it seemed the marauders had grabbed their own guns before fleeing. He was taking no small risk returning to get it. But a serviceable weapon was too great an advantage to pass up on, seeing as it would fall to Finn to defend their little party should they be discovered, and he could hardly boast hand-to-hand combat as one of his skills. No, he definitely had to get it—even if there was only one round left, it could still be used as a deterrent.
He lowered his head and shielded his face with the collar of his coat as he ducked inside. The smoke stung his eyes, blurring his vision, but he plowed on, making his way to the remains of the fire and searching around it. Everything was coated with a layer of white plaster dust, and he shuffled through the scattered debris.
The gun, when he picked it up, was
much heavier than expected. The wide nylon strap was still there, and he slung it behind his back before turning to the exit, which was already partly obscured by smoke. Something creaked in the ceiling, eliciting a loud, animal-like groan. If Finn needed any more warning to get out immediately, that was definitely it.
Keeping his head down and covered, Finn didn’t notice that someone was blocking his way. He almost collided with them as he stepped out into the open, recoiling at the last second.
“Hey! Whatcha doin’ here?”
The man tried to grab him, but Finn dropped to the ground, going on pure adrenaline-driven instinct, and scampered on all fours out into the street. The guy cursed and lunged after him just as Finn scrambled to his feet and darted out of his reach. He spun around to face his attacker, blood pounding in his ears with the force of a sledgehammer.
The part of his brain that wasn’t in full panic mode noted that this was the same man he’d seen torturing Spencer before: the gang leader. His dark green coat and lanky blond hair were peppered with white dust, and he scowled at Finn.
Finn looked around frantically, but Siobhan and Spencer were nowhere to be seen. On the other hand, the rest of the gang emerged, one by one, from a nearby alley where they had apparently taken cover from the explosion.
The thought of using Spencer’s gun flashed through Finn’s mind, but he wasn’t sure it was loaded—and he didn’t think he could actually hit a target with his hands shaking as they were. He realized the irony of risking his life to get it and not being able to use it, but he had no time to dwell on his poor choices. The most important thing was to give Spencer and his sister the time to get as far away from there as possible.
Finn backed away a few steps as the other men advanced on him. One of them unslung his own rifle but paused before taking aim, apparently waiting for the leader to decide whether Finn was worth a bullet.
“Hope you all shat yourselves, fuckers. Good luck getting your stuff back,” Finn said, raising his voice and pouring as much venom into it as he could muster—not that it was difficult. Something inside the building crashed down with a loud thud, as if to emphasize his words. It sent a flurry of sparks into the street, making the men duck and cover their faces.
Taking advantage of their momentary distraction, Finn turned and sprinted in a direction opposite to what he’d instructed Siobhan and Spencer to take.
The heavy shotgun and his messenger bag were weighing him down, but he couldn’t afford to drop them. Running and shouting sounded behind him, but he didn’t pause to look back. As long as they were following, he was getting what he wanted.
He rounded a corner, dashing down an alleyway. Finn wasn’t terribly familiar with this area, and picked his direction at random, counting on speed and the element of surprise to carry him through. But darkness closed in the farther he got from the fire, and the deep snow still lingered in the narrower passages, which made running that much more difficult. They were gaining on him faster than he expected.
Finn took another sharp turn and nearly ran into some overturned garbage containers that partially blocked the way. There was enough light flickering in a few lower windows for him to see where he was going, but he hasn’t been paying much attention. Shit. He tried to push his way through and then all thought fled when a loud crack echoed in the alley. A bullet whizzed past his ear, and a corner of a dumpster blew off, sending sharp pieces flying. He threw his arm up to shield his face and pressed on, fueled by sheer panic. The waste of ammunition was bound to make his pursuers angry, and he probably wouldn’t survive another shot aimed at him. His only regret was not saying goodbye to Siobhan properly. Not seeing the corners of Spencer’s blue eyes crinkle when he smiled that frost-thawing smile one last time. Not letting him know how he truly felt about him.
No. He couldn’t think that. He finally had something worth living for, as opposed to just surviving, and he wasn’t about to let these scumbags take that away from him.
Finn ducked behind another dumpster just as the second bullet slammed into its grimy side. He shoved the dumpster hard into the middle of the alley to block his pursuers’ path and their line of vision and then did it again with another container a few feet away. That one was empty, so the force of the push sent it barreling into the wall and overturning an icy heap of unidentifiable garbage. The resulting barrier, as flimsy as it was, was worth the few precious seconds of delay and the spent effort. Finn darted toward the mouth of the alley, the cold air burning in his abused lungs, and the aching muscles in his legs threatening to cramp with every step.
The men shouted after him, but no more shots were fired. There was no point wasting rounds on a target they couldn’t see, no matter how pissed off they were.
He didn’t stop running, even when he could no longer hear their voices. The roads there were wide and broken, and he lost his footing more than once, slipping on the partially melted snow. He took a few random turns to throw any possible followers off track, and finally stopped in a hardware store entryway, breathing hard and straining to hear any foreign noises in over the staccato of his heartbeats.
All he could hear was silence. Finn propped his head against the doorframe and heaved a sigh of relief, taking advantage of the momentary respite. It seemed that for all his misfortunes, he was also having more than his fair share of miracles. He just hoped he’d given Siobhan and Spencer enough time to put some distance between them and the burning building.
Navigating the way to the public library in the dead of night proved no easy task. Finn deliberately took a roundabout route to throw off any pursuit, keeping to the sides of the buildings, but it was too dark for him to read the street signs, so most of his wandering was pure guesswork. The stormy weather had calmed, but the cold was no less bitter, chilling Finn to his very core now that running for his life didn’t distract him.
The sky was beginning to brighten by the time he finally reached the library, by way of the Legion Mall. He approached the wide vacant steps leading up to the columned exterior. Remnants of the glass structure behind the historical facade jutted into the sky like the bones of a giant mythical beast.
Finn stumbled up the steps in a state of deep exhaustion that left no room for anxiety. Every muscle and bone in his body ached. Pulling a sled all the way from Carmel and then running around the city had taken its toll, and he wasn’t sure he could run anymore even if he came face to face with some new threat.
As if in answer to his thoughts, a tall shrouded figure stepped out from behind one of the columns, swaying slightly, and Finn recoiled, stopping in his tracks. Through the daze of his fatigue and in the barely-there light of dawn, it took him a moment to take in the mass of matted blond hair and familiar face, battered and bloodied, but no less handsome for it.
Finn almost sagged in relief, his whole body shaking with utter fatigue. He had been lucky to escape pursuit, but the image of Spencer alive and back on his feet was the true wonder, nothing short of a benediction.
“Finn!” The large wooden front door opened with a loud creak, and Siobhan raced down the steps and threw herself into his arms, nearly sending them both tumbling backward. “You made it!”
“Of course I made it,” Finn said with false bravado, hugging her tight. “Can’t get rid of me; I’m like a cockroach.”
She giggled and released him.
“Spencer, here, insisted on waiting for you outside.” She nodded toward the other man. “I’m surprised he hasn’t frozen into a Popsicle yet. I barely stopped him from going out looking after you.”
Finn turned to Spencer, swallowing around a sudden lump in his throat. There he was, supporting himself on the stone column with a weary smile, looking no less relieved than Finn felt, and the sight took Finn’s breath away as effectively as if he’d run another ten miles.
He scaled the steps as Siobhan headed back inside, and locked Spencer in a desperate embrace. He wanted to hold on tighter, to listen to their heartbeats echoing each other, but he was mindful no
t to hurt him. Spencer’s arms closed around him gently, and Finn could finally exhale, burying his face against his chest.
“Thank you.” Spencer’s soft whispering breath ghosted against Finn’s cheek. “You two saved my life.”
“Now we’re even.” Finn chuckled. “And I had to destroy your scarf.”
Spencer huffed in amusement. “I’ll make that trade any day.”
“Let’s just hope neither of us has to do something like that again.”
“I love you,” Spencer said, his tone suddenly grave and his hold around Finn tightening just a fraction. “When I thought those bastards were gonna kill me, my only regret was not telling you that. So I’m telling you now, Finn. I love you.”
Finn drew back, looking into Spencer’s eyes, which reflected the same tender emotion Finn had been sure he’d never see or feel again. In some ways, acknowledging it for what it was seemed much scarier than facing off a feral gang, but he was done giving in to fear.
“I love you too,” he said, with barely a hint of tremor in his voice. “So much.”
Spencer cupped Finn’s face in his hands. He wasn’t wearing any gloves, and the feel of his calloused fingers on his skin sent a wave of warmth all the way down to Finn’s stomach—a wave that turned into a swelling tide when Spencer’s lips met his own, and their mouths locked in a fierce kiss.
It was as if all the unspoken promises and unrealized dreams were remade with that single kiss, reborn out of the toxic ashes of their ruined world as a new hope, a new future they would forge together.
Finally, after what seemed like no more than a second and yet stretched into eternity, Spencer pulled back, still holding Finn in his arms. He pushed a wayward lock of Finn’s hair away from his face and smiled—that beautiful, dazzling smile that banished all the traces of doubt and fear that might still have lingered in the corners of Finn’s mind.
They all needed to recuperate before embarking on the return trip in the morning, but it was only the beginning of a much longer journey—one they would be taking together.
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