In the Shadow of Evil

by Robin Caroll

  The gun wobbled in his hand. "Layla—"

  A car roared onto the site, a single flashing light atop.

  She glanced down, as did Ed. Maddox jumped from the passenger's seat, gun drawn. "Layla!"

  "Up here! He's got a gun!"

  Ed moved faster than she'd thought.

  Pop! Pop! Pop!

  A sharp pain shot across her temple. She felt herself falling. A blinding, white light flashed before her eyes. She couldn't feel the beam with her hands anymore.

  Oh, Jesus . . .

  MADDOX DREW, AIMED, AND fired in less than three seconds, the fluid movements second nature. "Layla!"

  Ed staggered . . . wobbled, then toppled over. His body hit several floors before crashing to the ground with a sickening thud.

  Maddox holstered his gun. He'd always been a crack shot—the department's best, but that was the luckiest shot he'd ever made.

  "I've called it in," Houston said.

  Layla lay crumpled in a heap. All the way at the top. Maddox couldn't tell if she was even alive. "Layla!"

  No response.

  "Fire department and ambulance are on their way." Houston strode to where Ed Young's broken body finally rested. "They'll have the equipment to get her."

  Maddox stared up, only making out a hump where Layla had once stood. "If she moves, she'll fall." All. The. Way. Down. His throat tightened, and his lungs nearly exploded. "I have to go up."

  Houston shot him a stern look. "Hey, I know you think you're a superhero, but let's not kid ourselves. You don't have to do this."

  As much as he wanted to let his partner go, Maddox knew he had to be the one. He had to go see Layla for himself. "I'm going." Already his gut clenched.

  "You're crazy. I can't let you do this. Procedure says to wait in situations like this."

  Sirens sounded, but they were still too far away. If she was unconscious and moved just a little bit, she could fall as Ed had done. Maddox wouldn't be able to live with himself if he witnessed that. "Waiting could kill her. I'm going." He marched toward the elevator shaft. No car stood at the ready. His legs felt like they were made of Jell-O.

  "Maddox—"

  He glared at his partner. "What would you do if it was Margie, Houston? It's Layla!" His chest would collapse any minute. "I'm falling in love with her."

  Houston just stared at him, then finally nodded.

  Okay. He could do this. His palms were coated with sweat as he grabbed a two-by-six above him and pulled up. Just like climbing a ladder. He could do this.

  Don't look down. He concentrated on his breathing.

  She was so high up. So. High. Up.

  Sirens screamed closer. But not close enough.

  Another pull up. Steady. Find footing. Secure.

  His heart pounded. His pulse throbbed in his ears.

  Grab another board over his head. Pull up. Steady. Find footing. Secure.

  The wind whipped through the wall-less structure, pushing him. He held tight to the support closest to him. His pant legs popped as the cold swirled around him.

  He could taste his heartbeat. Pull up. Steady. Find footing. Secure. Grab another board. Pull up.

  His tensed muscles jumped. Tensed again.

  Pull up. Steady. Find footing. Secure. Grab another board.

  He glanced down. Big mistake. His mouth went dry. He closed his eyes, fought to breathe normally.

  The wail of the sirens drew nearer.

  Maddox clenched his jaw. He could do this. For Layla.

  Pull up. Steady. Find footing. Secure. Reach. The boards were wet from the mist, making his grip tenuous. His chest ached from the pounding of his heart.

  A gust shoved him, a vortex around him, pulling him, tugging him, yanking. He wrapped his arms around a two-by-six and held tight. He glanced down.

  The ground was so far below.

  So. Far. Below.

  His body trembled. His mouth felt as if he'd just bit into foil. Sweat beaded on his upper lip. He forgot to breathe.

  No, he would ignore the paralyzing fear. He'd save Layla. Had to.

  Maddox closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the wood plank. God, if You're there, I really need Your help. Not for me, but for Layla. I can't do this by myself. Please . . .

  THIRTY-FIVE

  "It is difficult to know at what moment love begins; it is less difficult to know that it has begun."

  —HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

  FALLING. FALLING. FALLING.

  Warmth.

  Layla couldn't open her eyes. Didn't really want to.

  So warm.

  Was she dreaming? Awake? Didn't really matter. She just didn't want to move. Didn't want the warmth to fade.

  Blessed darkness surrounded her. Comforting. Warming. Soothing.

  She sighed, the breath teasing past her lips.

  A flutter of cold kissed her cheek.

  She fought to open her eyes. The lids were so, so heavy. Couldn't muster the strength. Sank back into the weighted depth.

  But it wasn't there to envelope her again. Cold and hard replaced it.

  And pain.

  Shooting down from her left temple, across her cheek and head. Her ear ached. A ringing hummed in her head.

  She reached up and touched the ache. A knot lay under her touch. She pressed.

  Splinters, but that hurt!

  Her mouth was coated with metallic. She ran her tongue against the roof of her mouth, but the coppery taste remained.

  Her head felt like an entire construction crew had set up residence inside. Pounding. Grinding. Grating.

  She rolled to her back, only to have something press against her spine.

  Something below her clanged . . . once, twice . . . then she couldn't hear it anymore.

  Below her?

  "Layla!"

  Maddox!

  She forced her eyes open and tried to move again.

  "Don't move. At all."

  She lay perfectly still. Blinked. Tried to get her bearings.

  The metallic taste increased in her mouth as she remembered. Ed. The gun. Had she been shot?

  Her eyes opened wider. She lay on the edge of the walking platform. Her leg dangled with nothing below it.

  Nothing but five stories of wood, steel beams, makeshift floors, and air.

  "I'm coming. Just don't move." Maddox's voice was strained.

  He was coming for her! She smiled. Pain shot through the left side of her face.

  Splinters! Had she been shot in the head?

  She reached up and touched the tenderest area, her temple. Her fingers came back wet. Blood.

  Nausea roiled her stomach. Panic seized her lungs.

  Layla pinched her lips together, forcing herself to breathe through her nose. How badly was she hurt?

  Ed had moved so fast, coming straight at her. She'd heard the gunshot, then . . . nothing.

  Ed! Where was he? Did he still have his gun? Would he finish her off?

  "I'm almost there. Hold tight." Maddox . . . reassuring. Safe. Protection.

  Sirens erupted below her. Her head pounded. She groaned and covered her ear.

  Oh, God, I don't want to die.

  WHEN LAYLA'S KEYS HAD passed him and crashed, Maddox's heart followed. All the way to the ground.

  He increased his efforts, calling out to her. Closer to her, he could see the precarious position she was in. If she rolled forward, she'd fall off the narrow board keeping her safe. He tightened his grip and climbed faster.

  Pull up. Steady. Find footing. Secure. Grab another board.

  Again.

  "I'm coming, Layla. Just don't move."

  Pull up. Steady. Find footing. Secure. Grab another board.

  Breathe.

  The fire department and ambulance had arrived below him. Several floors below him. Maddox refused to look down.

  Pull up. Steady. Find footing. Secure. Wipe off the moisture from his palms. Grab another board.

  She groaned.

 
Every nerve in his body almost shot out of his skin.

  She shifted. Dirt trickled down, hitting him in the face. Her leg hung off the board supporting her.

  "Be still, Layla. I'm almost there."

  He climbed higher . . . faster. Adrenaline pushed him.

  "Maddox?" Houston's voice rose up to him.

  "Yeah?"

  "We've got a net-thing stretched out below y'all."

  But if they fell, they'd still hit some of the floors on the way down.

  Maddox held still. Layla was right above him. He needed to be very careful in his approach. If he moved her the wrong way, they'd both crash to their deaths. Despite the net-thing.

  He steadied himself and pulled up a final time. Layla looked up at him with wide eyes. His grip tightened.

  "Can you get to the elevator?" Houston yelled.

  That's right. The elevator was at the top. Here.

  Maddox eased himself beside her, then let go of the board.

  She was in his arms in an instant.

  He held her tight against his chest. A big knot stuck out on her left temple. A trickle of blood seeped from the gash there.

  But she was alive. She was going to be okay. They were going to be okay.

  "The elevator?" Houston yelled.

  "Ed shot it. Won't work." Layla's breathing came in little pants.

  "Young took it out," he screamed to his partner.

  A heavy silence followed, save for Layla's and his labored breathing.

  "Okay, they're sending a ladder up to you now."

  Maddox glanced down to the activity below them. He held tighter to Layla. So. High. Up.

  The ladder jerked upward.

  "You came for me." Layla's words were a whisper against his neck.

  It fed his pulse. He kissed her crown. "We'll talk later about your actions. Right now, I'm just thankful you're okay."

  "Ed?"

  He swallowed. "Not a threat anymore."

  She snuggled against him. "Now that you're here, everything's perfect."

  Even though he smiled, Maddox couldn't help but wonder how hard she had hit her head.

  The ladder thudded against the edge of the building frame.

  "Okay, Maddox, y'all get to the ladder and come down. Slowly."

  The ladder was a good fifty yards away. And the walking platform didn't run in that direction.

  Maddox's muscles seized. "Uh, I don't know that we can."

  "I can." Layla shifted and grabbed the beam behind her, pulling herself upright.

  His blood froze. "Don't move too much."

  "I'm okay. Guess I just had the wind knocked out of me." She pulled to standing.

  "A fireman is coming up to get you," Houston hollered.

  "No, we'll come down." Layla yelled before Maddox could protest. She pressed the pad of her palm against her forehead. "Splinters, that hurt my head."

  "Maybe we should wait for the fireman. You might be hurt worse than you think."

  "I can still get myself down from a construction site, Maddox. This is what I do for a living, you know."

  "It's not what I do," he muttered.

  She offered her hand. "Come on, let's get out of here. My head's killing me and I want to get it looked at."

  He took her hand and let her help him up. He grabbed a two-by-six and held on for all he was worth. And then he looked down.

  Big mistake.

  Layla turned and balanced on the edge of a plank. "Just put your feet where I do. We'll reach the ladder in no time." And she took off.

  His legs wouldn't budge. He couldn't even loosen his grip on the board.

  "Just slow and steady. Not so hard, huh?" She glanced over her shoulder and frowned. "What's wrong?"

  He hadn't moved. Couldn't.

  "Maddox?"

  He couldn't stop staring at the ground. So. Far. Down.

  "Maddox, look at me."

  He yanked his gaze to meet hers.

  "What's wrong?"

  "Uh, I'm afraid of heights."

  "You're afraid of—Maddox, you climbed all the way up here."

  "Had to. Had to make sure you were okay."

  She smiled, and heat nearly suffocated him. "Then you need to follow me."

  "I don't know that I can." Now she'd think he was a wimp. But he couldn't help it—his body still refused to move.

  "Yes, you can." She came back to him, standing right in front of him. "You can do this. Just follow me."

  "I-I—"

  She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. The kiss wasn't nearly as soft and gentle as before. This one was urgent, hard, strong. And sent him reeling.

  Layla grabbed him and held him to her. She ended the kiss and met his stare. "You will follow me. I'll turn around, and you just concentrate on stepping where I do. Don't look down, don't look up. Just look at my back and mimic my moves. Got it?"

  He opened his mouth to protest.

  She gave him a quick peck. "For once, Maddy, don't argue with me. Just do as I tell you."

  Maddy. Only his mother had called him that.

  His body stiffened.

  Before he could respond, Layla turned and began making her way to the ladder again. "Just follow me and do what I do. Grab the beams for support, step. Support. Step. Easy."

  He reached for the wood and held it tight. It was steady. Strong. He took a step.

  "That's right, keep coming," Layla coaxed over her shoulder. She took three more steps over open space, gently setting her foot on the narrow board. "Grab, step. Grab, step. You're doing great."

  His breaths came in pants, but he concentrated on where Layla stepped. What she grabbed.

  Grab. Step. Grab.

  Follow Layla.

  "That's good. We're almost there."

  Grab. Step.

  And then he was right behind her.

  "Okay, now we have to pivot and step down to the ladder. Just watch what I do. Okay?"

  The edge of the building felt so . . . open . . . exposed . . . high.

  "Maddy, look at me. Concentrate."

  He trembled, but he managed to give a nod.

  "Good, just watch. It's easy." Still holding a support beam, she put her back to the open air. With her right foot, she stepped to the rung. She put her left foot beside it, then let go of the beam and held each side of the ladder. "See? It's easy."

  She was literally hanging off the side of nothing—five stories high!

  "Maddy? Come on. I'm right here. You won't fall."

  How did she know?

  "Grab the beam and turn around. You can do this."

  He reached for the wood. His hands were slick with sweat and his grip didn't hold. He wobbled.

  "Maddox, hold that beam!"

  He gripped it again, pushing splinters into his palm.

  "Good, now turn around."

  Using only his toes, he pivoted. He fought for control against the tremors traveling down his legs.

  "Perfect. Now, take a step back."

  His feet had grown roots.

  "Take a step back. I'm right here. You aren't going to fall."

  He inched his foot back.

  "Now stop."

  He froze.

  "Good. Now use your toe to feel the edge of the plank. You can look, but don't look down past your feet. Feel for the rung."

  He'd never vomited on the job before, but he just might do so now.

  "Feel for the ladder's rung. It's right there."

  He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. Okay, God, You kept her alive. You got me up here. If You're real, You're gonna have to help get me down.

  "Not even two inches down. Come on, feel for it with your foot."

  Maybe it was Layla's assurance. Maybe it was feeling as if his prayer had been heard. Maybe it was realizing that God wasn't a crutch for the weak. Or maybe he'd just lost his mind. At any rate, Maddox found his body responding to his commands.

  He used his toe and found the rung. Stepped down. Put his other foot down.
Let go of the board and grabbed the sides of the ladder.

  "Excellent. Let's get out of here."

  He kept his eyes closed as he descended. Layla continued to whisper encouragements to him, but he wasn't really hearing her.

  There was something else running through his mind and rewinding, over and over again. The psalm his father had quoted to him:

  "The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold."

  THIRTY-SIX

  "I believe that man will not merely endure. He will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance."

  —WILLIAM FAULKNER

  LAYLA WAS TRULY SICK of the hospital's emergency room. Although this time, she wasn't in the waiting room. For the first time, she was in an examining room as a patient.

  She touched the bandage on her temple again. Eighteen stitches, the doctor said. Would leave minimal scarring. They'd ruled out a concussion. The nurse should be in soon with her discharge papers.

  Where was Maddox? He'd ridden to the hospital with her in the ambulance, holding her hand the whole way. As soon as she'd gotten into an examining room, Houston came for him. Maddox said he'd be back, but that was so long ago.

  The door opened and Houston's wife, Margie, stepped inside, clipboard and paper bag in hand. "How're you feeling?"

  "Fine. Ready to go."

  Margie smiled. "I've got all your paperwork ready." She waved the little brown sack. "As well as your medications."

  "What kind of medication?" She didn't like taking medicine. Did her best to avoid it if at all possible.

  "Just some pain killers. Trust me, honey, you'll need some later tonight." Margie handed her the sack, then went over her discharge instructions. "Do you have any questions?"

  "Do you know where Maddox is?" The heat skyrocketed to her face. "I mean, I don't have a ride home or anything."

  Margie grinned. "He's with Houston talking to their commander. He should be done in a few minutes."

  "Okay."

  "Want me to get him for you?"

  "Oh, no." Her tongue felt two sizes too big for her mouth. "It's not important. I don't want to interrupt a business thing. I'm fine."