by A. R. Shaw
As soon as the door shut, Bishop levered his eyes at him and worked his muscles overtime to shed the cuffs as he said, “Kid, you shoot that Desert Eagle in here against these concrete walls and the bullet will ricochet. You’re likely to hit yourself in this close proximity. I’m just warning you.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to do this. I don’t have a choice,” Austin said, his hands shaking rapidly. “I’m sorry,” he said again and began to aim the heavy pistol in Bishop’s general direction. The muzzle shook terribly.
“You don’t have to do this, Austin. They’re trying to control you. Trying to make you a murderer. Don’t let them. If you kill me, others will die.”
“They’re going to kill you anyway.”
With the cuffs burning hot with friction and tension, Bishop bought more time by saying, “You don’t have to be the one doing the killing. There has to be some reason they haven’t already taken you out. Why do they want to keep you alive? Who are you?”
“I know what the reason is,” Austin said, crying.
“What?”
Shaking his head, Austin said quietly, “I’m his son. I’m Mr. Geller’s biological son. No one knows but a few people. Mr. Geller doesn’t even know that I know.”
“Then you’re worth more to them alive than dead. Don’t let them do this to you, Austin. Your father would expect more from you.”
At that moment, Austin’s aim faltered. He nearly had his eyes closed by then. His finger within the trigger guard, Austin was going to fire, and by Bishop’s estimation, he was going to miss and likely kill himself in the process. With a last surge of strength, one cuff popped free. Quickly launching his leg out, Bishop knocked Austin’s feet from underneath him and, using his freed hands, quickly grabbed the gun and fired once, straight up in the air at the angle of the ascending stairs. Then Bishop immediately dropped the magazine and found it full having shot the one in the chamber. “Seven bullets left.”
Opening the door, Frank was met with a direct shot to the face, and three more shots were fired in quick succession into the center mass of the three guards before they even had a chance to ready their weapons. In practice, Bishop would have preferred double tapping them, but there was little time for the best-case scenario and he knew the Desert Eagle rounds did a sufficient job on their own. Now he only held three.
He quickly stepped over Frank’s body and grabbed the AR-15 rifles from the three guards, then an additional weapon from Frank’s body along with all the keycards or IDs the four men had in their possession. He turned handing one of the rifles to see Austin standing behind him with a blank look and his mouth agape. “Come on, kid, we’ve got to run.”
“I was…I was going to shoot you.”
“But you didn’t. Come on, we don’t have time for this now.” He grabbed at Austin’s sleeve and guided him over the bodies. “How do we get out of here?”
“Up and to the left. There’s a door to the lobby.”
A crackle from a radio sounded. “Boss, you there? Over.”
“Come on,” Bishop said gruffly. “We have to find a place to hide out. I need you to help me find Roman.”
The kid was hesitant. He stood perfectly still. Bishop watched his eyes dart back and forth as if he was flipping through the many options available to him and coming up empty. He wanted to flee, that much was clear, but Bishop needed him, needed his guidance to traverse the building and to point out the bad guys. He needed Austin to tell him who to kill. And he needed him to do it now.
“Kid, we don’t have time for this. Your dad would want you to help me.”
Austin met his eyes finally. Maybe that was enough to convince him, but Bishop wasn’t sure.
“He’ll be in the penthouse this time of day,” Austin said. “This way. Up the stairs.” Austin rushed past Bishop, but the older man caught him by the arm. “You need to let me lead. Here,” he said and handed him one of the rifles. “Don’t put your finger in there unless you’re going to shoot.”
“I know. Mr. Geller taught me,” Austin said, and Bishop led the way up the stairwell with his new guide, thinking, At least the old man had done that much for the kid.
37
Frozen in fear, Maeve held her finger to her lips as her son and Louna stared back at her with frightened eyes.
Crunch…crunch…crunch…
Jake chose that moment to swing his tail. The slight sound of his tail hitting the plastic of a nearby box made her cringe. The enigma of an environment covered with snow in a freezing world was the amplification of sound. As if everything were covered in a warm comfy blanket, even a needle dropped on a concrete floor pinged its way to one’s eardrums—distinctive and sure.
Half-tempted to go and still Jake’s tail, she didn’t dare move for fear of the fibers in her clothing rubbing together. Or the sounds of her light steps against the flooring.
In the meantime, the footsteps outside the storage unit were nearing, growing louder and louder in intervals. With her Glock out in front of her and the children behind her, Maeve shivered more out of fear than the cold.
Whoever it was stopped right outside the metal door. Bargaining with herself, she made a few internal rules. If he knocks, I won’t say a thing. If he tries to get inside, I’ll shoot. He has to attempt to enter, and then I’ll shoot, but not before.
Glancing back at the children, their wide eyes round in fear, she swallowed and turned her attention back to the door. Her breath came out in rapid puffs of vapor.
Another crunch in the snow. And then another. One more, and then soon she heard the steps of whoever had come retreat until she heard them no more.
38
“We have to go through the lobby to get to the next stairwell. It’s near the elevators that lead up to the penthouse.”
“How likely is it those guards of his will be out there? Is there surveillance?”
Austin shook his head no. “The power’s out. They lost that capability. I don’t know about the guards.”
“Don’t they have generators going?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Well, we’re about to find out.” Bishop opened the door a crack. What he saw startled him, but it was what he felt that confused him more. Waves of comforting heat poured into the frigid crack in the doorway. He stared at an enormous raging fireplace with not one person around to enjoy it—as far as he could tell from his limited view of the lobby. Though if someone were, he’d be nice and toasty.
From his limited boyhood memories from when he’d visited the grand hotel with his family, Bishop remembered the lobby being enormous. But he was a boy then, and it had seemed to take them forever to walk from one end to the other where the hotel restaurant stood. Listening for any sign of another person, he searched for the other stairwell Austin had mentioned. Across the hallway, near the elevators, stood a door with a familiar plaque to the side of it. He turned back to Austin and motioned for him to follow.
They sneaked out quickly, and Bishop covered Austin as he scrambled across the hallway. He almost hated leaving the warmth of the lobby for the frigid cold of the next stairwell, but it must be done. He imagined inviting the town in there and letting them enjoy the warmth for the first time in weeks instead of the frozen cold.
Inside the next stairwell, it didn’t take long for them to see their own breaths again. Bishop made sure the coast was clear before proceeding. “How the heck are they getting up and down fifteen floors without the elevators working and without using the stairs?”
“Roman had most of the guests leave before the weather became too bad for them to go. He basically threw them out into the cold. Most of the service people are staying up top on the restaurant floor, and they take the service entry up and down most of the time. It’s an elevator that runs on less power. The generator could run it, but there’s also another set of stairs for the staff, so I imagine they use those.”
“I see. So we’re unlikely to meet anyone as we come up and down the main stairwe
ll?”
Austin hunched his shoulders. “We might run into a guest or two. They’re not aware of the service entry. A few of them stayed, but no one is caring for them.”
Stopping on the darkened stairs, Bishop turned to shine his light on Austin. “So, they hear the gunshots and see what’s going on from their hotel rooms, and they’re terrified, basically?”
“I imagine so.”
“That’s hospitality,” he said and continued on until they reached the fifth floor in the dark. Their breaths were becoming more winded with each step when he turned to look at Austin, who had fallen a little behind. “You OK?”
“Yeah…I usually take the elevator, hah.”
Then a sudden clang from above caused Bishop to shift his weapon and raise his hand to halt Austin’s movements.
A sudden globe of light flashed on the concrete wall, and then came the descending sound of feet quickly traversing steps. Austin’s eyes became as large as saucers, and he shifted in an attempt to run downward when Bishop caught him by the back of his shirt, stopping him abruptly.
Signaling with his finger to his lips, Bishop then pointed to the corner in the lower stairwell and moved his hand up and down in a “lay low” gesture. After releasing Austin’s shirt, he watched as the young man quietly went to the spot that Bishop suggested. The main task for him was to urge the boy not to panic. Panicking would get them both killed. As Austin retreated, Bishop ascended the stairs toward the danger and watched as the globe of light on the wall bounced with each step and traveled ever closer. Bishop remained in the shadow of the light, and as soon as the owner came into view, Bishop let his finger enter the trigger guard of his rifle. He began to squeeze when suddenly, instead of the man coming to the next floor and to his imminent death, the stranger shifted and opened the door to the floor right above Bishop’s position.
His finger released the pressure on the trigger, and he removed it from the guard. Bishop’s breath returned to normal as the door clanged shut, but before it did, he heard voices from the other side.
Shining his light on Austin below, he waved for him to come up to his position. They were passing the door where the intruder exited only to come face to face with another guard when the door suddenly opened again.
Dumbfounded, the guard dressed in black still had his rifle slung over his back. A long blue-carpeted hallway extended behind him, and another guard was walking away so that Bishop could barely see his back. Quickly he grabbed the guard in front of him, his hand wrapped around his mouth, and pulled him around to his chest to keep him from reaching for his weapon. Austin stumbled backward as Bishop pulled the guard through the darkened doorway and let the door close with a click.
Inside the darkness, Bishop had no choice—any struggle from the man would alert the rest to their position. Releasing his hand from the guard’s mouth, he extended his reach around his head and twisted with a sudden jerk. The man fell to his feet.
Austin met his eyes, and the boy was in utter fear.
“I had to, Austin. He would have exposed us. We need to get to Roman, quickly. The stairs are taking too long. Where’s the nearest elevator?”
Austin still frozen in terror, Bishop knew this was too much for the kid. “Austin, quickly. I’m trying to keep you alive.”
Austin pointed to the door from which the guard had just come.
“All right, come on. Whatever happens, stay right behind me. If you’re not there, I can’t help you. Understand?”
He nodded.
“Let’s go.”
“I’m scared,” Austin quickly uttered.
Turning to the boy, Bishop whispered, “The only way out is through. Say it.”
“The…only way out is through,” Austin repeated.
“Say it over and over in your mind. The only way out is through. Let’s go now.”
The younger man’s breath slowed a bit, and Bishop knew Austin was doing as he had as a young man in war, repeating that same mantra over and over in his mind. The only way out is through. The only way out is through. The only way out is through.
39
A few hours later, Maeve dozed while the children slept as they waited for Bishop. A sudden sound of gushing water woke her, and when she jerked her head around to see where it was coming from, the smell hit her too. Standing at the side end of the storage unit, Jake had just let go of his water. Horse urine had a distinctive smell, and Louna popped her head out from the covers, staring at her with her nose pinched.
There was nothing she could do about the situation. They were trapped inside with Jake. She should have known something like this was going to happen because for the past hour Jake had seemed agitated. He’d probably had needed to go for a while but didn’t want to do it in his own space but finally had no choice. Large puddles of yellow liquid began to pool and seep toward the unit door with the slight slope of the concrete.
“Ah, Mom!” Ben said.
“Shh! We can’t make any noise or those people might come back.”
Ben nodded his head then covered his nose with the blanket.
How much longer can we live this way? she thought. As long as it takes was her sudden reply to herself.
“At least it’s draining away,” she whispered to the children.
Ben only nodded.
For the first time in her life, she found herself wondering at what temperature a horse’s urine would freeze. There’s got to be a lot of salt in that, I guess?
Crunch…crunch…crunch.
Maeve crouched low and held her hand out to the children, motioning them to keep quiet. Whoever had come before was back again. And then, bwaa, bwaa, bwaa…bwaa, bwaa, bwaa…A tremendously loud alarm sounded in the distance.
The footsteps stopped as the alarm continued, and then they pounded on quickly, this time stopping right outside the storage unit. Bam, bam, bam.
Her breaths coming in a rapid staccato, Maeve held her rifle out in front of her.
“I know you’re in there. Open the damn door!”
Out of the corner of her vision, she saw her son stand. She turned to him and shook her head. Tears coming down her face, she kept her aim on the invisible man on the other side of the metal door. He pounded again and again. “Open this door!” he growled.
The muzzle of the Glock shook in her hands. If he comes inside, I’ll shoot.
The scratch of metal on metal began as he pulled up on the door. Slivers of light flashed inside. The door jerked up and down.
If he comes inside, I’ll shoot…
40
Running through the hallway with emergency lights as the only illumination, Bishop and Austin made it halfway down when suddenly the alarm system went off. Now the dim lights flashed as well. They could hear running footsteps down the other side of the hall. Black suits flashed by without any heed to them coming toward them.
They must have found the bodies in the basement.
Chaos was good. Bishop would use it to his advantage. When one of the black suits saw them from down the hallway, his eyes first shifted to Bishop’s rifle, and then he made eye contact with Bishop while lifting his weapon. Bishop stopped and kicked open one of the hotel room doors, flinging the kid inside from behind while he aimed and fired at the guy. Bishop watched as he hit the ground but the commotion attracted others, he followed Austin into the darkened hotel room and used the doorway as cover as he stitched the next guard across the chest with three shots.
He could see the elevator at the end of the hall from his position, and they only needed to make it there to get to the floors above.
“Come on,” Bishop said and had to pull Austin by his arm to the hallway. When they passed the downed guard, Bishop stopped and picked up his gun.
“You’ll need his badge to get to the top floor,” Austin said, and there tethered to the front of the guard’s jacket was the badge Austin mentioned. He reached down and snapped it off. They stopped again at the end of the hallway. The downed guard was the last to cross, and in
the corridor the alarm squalled to the point that Bishop wanted to cover his ears. Austin pressed the elevator door’s button to go up, and they waited. Another hallway attached here that went the opposite direction, and Austin’s eyes darted from one to the other. They had no idea if anyone else was coming. When the elevator’s floor indicator light neared their level, Bishop pulled Austin behind him and aimed at the opening elevator car. The doors opened, and thankfully, they found the space empty.
Inside, Austin took the card from Bishop and flashed it at the unit on the control panel, then pressed the button for the penthouse suite where Roman stayed. Before the elevator door closed, though, Bishop raised his rifle once again as he saw two figures enter the hallway. The elderly man and his wife’s shocked expressions were all he saw in the split second before the door closed. There were innocent people here, and he would do everything he could to avoid harming them in the process of getting rid of the plague known as Roman.
Keeping to the side of the car with Austin positioned behind him, the elevator rose and then stopped with a ding. The doors opened slightly and then all at once to an opulent room filled with warmth and fur rugs strewn across white stone floors approaching a desk flanked by leather couches. Heat emanated from a fireplace much like the one in the lobby but much smaller.
Creeping out of the elevator, Bishop practically dragged Austin behind him. He let go of the boy’s shirtsleeve when a door slammed. Suddenly the alarm stopped, but his ears continued to ring. Bishop scanned the room and looked down the hallway where he’d heard the noise. He motioned his head toward the hall with a questioning look, and Austin nodded that he had the right idea.
He tapped Austin on the chest and pointed to a tall white reception desk. The boy was more of a hindrance than a help, and he needed to stash him in a safe place out of the way.
Austin nodded, only too thankful to comply. He scurried behind the high white desk and hid down low.
