When Darkness Builds (The Caldera Series)

by M. C. Sutton

  “What?” said the kid. “You heard them, boss. I’m the one with the gun. I’m not just going to stand here and let them talk to me like that.”

  Hackett leaned in, inches from Rat’s face. “I said that’s enough. I don’t care if they call your mother a trailer park tramp, you’re not shooting a single one of them. Is that understood?”

  “Why not? They’re all about to die anyway. What difference does it make if you shoot ’em or I do?”

  “I just told you, you’re not shooting anyone,” Hackett answered coldly.

  Rat’s fingers trembled against the trigger of his gun.

  Jon pulled Emma closer to him.

  “You want to know what I think?” said Rat. “I don’t think you have any intention of killing anybody. I think you’ve gone soft.”

  “You want to see how soft I’ve gone?” said Hackett, raising his gun at Rat.

  Jon watched Aaron pull Rachael behind him. Aaron nodded toward a hallway to their left. Jon nodded back. He wasn’t sure exactly where it went, but it would be their best bet if things went south. And judging by the panicky look in Rat’s eyes, that’s exactly where they were headed.

  “You won’t do it,” said Rat. “You couldn’t even handle watching that old guy die. What makes you think you could kill a man in cold blood?”

  “What, a creepy little pervert like you?” said Hackett, pressing his gun into Rat’s chest. “It would be tough, but I think I could stomach it.”

  Jon wrapped an arm around Emma and pulled her into his shoulder. She looked up at him and shook her head. He knew she was still convinced she could talk Hackett out of this, but Jon didn’t have the kind of faith in people she did. There was entirely too much at stake to rely on the conscience of a guy who wasn’t afraid to hold hundreds of people hostage. If Jon had to, he’d throw her over his shoulder and carry her down the hall kicking and screaming.

  Jon turned to look for Bennett. He didn’t care for the guy, but he wasn’t about to run off and leave him.

  Apparently, Bennett didn’t feel the same way about him.

  “Hey,” Jon said before he could catch himself. “Where’s Bennett?”

  It was enough to stop Hackett and Rat from arguing. They turned toward him.

  Great, thought Jon. He wanted to kick himself.

  Hackett looked around. “Where’d he go?”

  “Beats me,” said Aaron. “Honestly, we were just about to run off ourselves.”

  Why in the world would you actually tell him that? Jon thought.

  “Oh really?” said Hackett. “And exactly which way were you planning on going?”

  Aaron looked at the floor. “Through that hallway,” he said, pointing back toward the prefunction area—the complete opposite direction of where they were planning to go.

  Jon had to commend Aaron on his integrity. Even though Bennett was a sleazebag who cared more about himself than everyone else, Aaron was still trying to give him half a chance to get away. Jon wasn’t so sure he would have done the same.

  Hackett turned to Rat. “Go follow him,” he said, nodding toward the stairs.

  “But that guy just said he went back the other way.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “Well… no, I guess not.”

  “Then go.”

  Rat didn’t move. “What are you going to do?”

  “What do you think I’m going to do?” Hackett grabbed Rat by the arm and shoved him forward. “I’m going to take them to the front desk.”

  “All right, fine,” said Rat, heading toward the stairs. “But don’t shoot them without me. And I personally think we should pop that guy first,” he added, pointing at Jon.

  Jon glared at him.

  Hackett didn’t move, didn’t even appear to breathe, until Rat was completely out of sight. Then he took one long, deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “All right, let’s go,” he said, motioning toward the hall.

  Jon wrinkled his forehead. Was Hackett for real? There were four of them and only one of him now. What made him think they were just going to follow him to their death, even if he did have a gun?

  Emma winked at Jon before turning toward the hallway. Aaron and Rachael followed her.

  “Come on, Cap,” said Hackett. “Get moving.”

  Jon started walking.

  As they moved, Jon dug his fingernails into his palms, infuriated with himself for having ruined what quite possibly was their only chance to escape. It wasn’t your fault, Jack had told him. But how could any of it not be? How could he have agreed to let Emma come here in the first place? To have let it all go on for this long? To have just sat there and watched someone he loved be gunned down right in front of him?

  Then Jon realized Jack was right. None of this was his fault.

  It was Hackett’s.

  He whipped around, grabbed Hackett by the shirt, and shoved him. Hackett’s gun fell to the floor, the clank of metal against tile muffled by the crack of Hackett’s body slamming hard into the wall.

  Aaron quickly picked up the gun and pointed it at Hackett.

  “Jon, please, stop!” said Emma. “Can’t you see he’s trying to help us?”

  Jon tightened his grip on Hackett’s shirt and pushed him up the wall. The guy squirmed and gasped under the intense pressure of Jon’s forearm against his chest. “Help us?” said Jon. “Emma, he’s going to kill us! How exactly is that helping us?”

  “He’s not going to kill us,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “You’re just going to have to trust him, Jon. Please!”

  Jon could feel his heart beating inside his temples. He stared right through Hackett, knowing he could break the guy. Crack every bone and burst every blood vessel, until Hackett was no more than a bruised and battered mess. Until he was the one lying on the floor bleeding to death.

  The way Jack was.

  “Jon?” Emma said quietly beside him.

  Jon forced himself to look at her.

  “You’re just going to have to trust me.”

  The white-hot flame of rage burned inside him in a way he hadn’t felt in a very long time. He wanted to rip Hackett apart. To make him hurt as much as he was hurting. He wanted the guy to know his pain.

  Jon tried to focus on that rage. Tried to remind himself that he was in control of it, and not the other way around.

  He wiped the sweat from his brow and answered as calmly as he could. “Emma, do you remember when I told you that sometimes you just need to walk away? Well, now would be one of those times.”

  “I’m sorry, Jon,” she answered. “But I can’t do that.”

  His arms shook against Hackett’s chest. “Look, you’re asking me to trust him? How exactly do you expect me to trust a guy when I can’t even see his face?”

  Emma turned to Hackett. “Sorry, Sam, he has a point.” She reached for the top of his ski mask and pulled it off in one brisk tug.

  Jon’s jaw dropped. “The waiter?” he said, stepping back.

  Hackett crumpled to the floor, breathing hard and clutching his chest. “Jeez, Grant. You’re even stronger than you look.”

  Jon narrowed his eyes. “You have no idea.”

  “Sam, are you okay?” said Emma, dropping to the floor beside him. “For God’s sake, Jon, you could have broken his ribs.”

  Jon looked away. One could only hope.

  “I’m confused,” said Aaron. “Whose side are you on again?” he asked Hackett.

  “I don’t know about sides,” Hackett said as Emma helped him up. “All I know is that I told Vice President Allred I’d get the two of them out of here, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

  “See, Jon?” said Emma. “I told you he was going to help us.”

  Jon turned open-mouthed to Aaron. Aaron just shrugged.

  “I could be wrong,” said Rachael, “but I think he’s telling the truth.”

  Jon looked at the ceiling and shook his head. Every single one of them had lost their friggin’ mind
.

  “We can’t just stand here, Jon,” said Emma. “Eventually someone is going to notice that he didn’t take us to the front desk.”

  Jon crossed his arms. “So some guy makes you dinner and all of a sudden you trust his judgment over mine?”

  “No, it’s not like that.”

  “Then tell me, Emma, what is it like?” He grabbed her by the arm, a little bit harder than he should have, and pulled her aside. “Exactly what is it with you and this guy?” he whispered.

  “I feel sorry for him,” she said. “He has a son. A three-year-old. Who was born with the same heart defect as Matt. Can you even imagine what that would be like nowadays? He’s just scared and desperate and doesn’t know what to do.”

  “Oh, Emma,” said Jon. “That still doesn’t excuse what he’s done.”

  “I know that. It’s just…” Emma looked back at the others. Aaron still had the gun pointed at Hackett. “He’s a good man, Jon,” she said. “Even good men make mistakes sometimes. And sometimes, you have to give them the chance to make up for it.”

  Jon rubbed a hand across his face, half ready to strangle her. Oh my god, woman! You’re going to be the death of me.

  “Hey, I don’t mean to interrupt, guys,” Aaron called over, “but whether he’s helping us or not, Emma’s right. We can’t just stand here. They’re going to come looking for us.”

  “If you’re serious about getting us out of here,” said Jon, stepping up to Hackett, “then how exactly do you intend to do it?”

  “The same way we were planning on getting out of here,” Hackett answered. “Through the subway. There’s a sky bridge on both this floor and the one below us. It’s connected to the old convention center across the street. Beneath it is an access point for the subway system. The city closed that section down during the war because of a bombing, but it should be cleared out just enough to make it a few blocks.”

  Jon glanced at Aaron.

  “But I know what you’re thinking, Grant, and you’re going to need my help getting there,” he added. “The sky bridge is guarded pretty heavily on both floors. This floor has a bunch of Mac’s guys on it, but I know the guys downstairs. If we can get down there and make it across, I can talk them into letting us pass.” He raised an eyebrow at Aaron. “Though I seriously doubt I’d get the chance if I walked up on them with a gun pointed at me.”

  Jon looked to Emma. She nodded.

  “Look, Grant, I know you don’t trust me. I can’t fix what happened to Allred. But what I can do is keep the promise I made to him. You can shoot me right here and now, and I wouldn’t blame you for it. But I don’t think you will. Because I don’t think these people would have risked their lives to keep you safe unless you were a better man than that. And I also don’t think you’d let Allred die in vain because you were too proud to accept my help. Because that’s exactly what you’d be doing if you don’t.”

  Jon clenched his jaw, hating what he was about to do. “Aaron,” he said. “Give him his gun back.”

  “Are you sure?” said Aaron.

  “No, but I don’t guess we have much choice, do we? How many guys you got spread out through here, Hackett?”

  “Fifty, at least.”

  “Well, then, there you go,” said Jon.

  “Jeez, fifty?” said Rachael. “Are we even going to make it out of here?”

  “Oh, you’ll make it out of here,” said Hackett, taking the gun from Aaron. “I made Allred a promise, and I never go back on my word.”

  “And I suppose you expect us to thank you?” said Jon.

  “No,” said Hackett, pulling a nine-millimeter out of the holster at his ankle and slapping it into Jon’s hand. “I don’t.”

  CHAPTER 31

  They were running out of time. Emma could feel it.

  Foreboding was no longer a strong enough word for the heaviness that settled into her chest. The word now was dread. Like that long walk down the hall to the principal’s office. Or to face your parents. Or your boss. When you’re about to come face to face with the vast accumulation of many, many bad choices. Some of them yours. Some of them not.

  None of them ending well.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  Emma turned, expecting the question to have come from Jon, who had asked her that more in the last few months than he had in the last few years. It was hard to tell who was talking to her just by the voice, though. Emma had disappeared into a fog. Everything was hollow and echoey, like their footsteps in the empty stairwell as they made their way downstairs. But Jon was half a flight in front of her with Sam and Aaron, waiting at the door that led out onto the second floor. He’d gone into combat mode, and how she felt was now most likely the furthest thing from his mind.

  “Emma,” said Rachael, putting a hand on her arm. “I asked if you were okay.”

  “I’m fine.” Emma struggled to focus. Why was it so dark in this stairwell anyway?

  “I think the power’s out,” said Jon, as if to answer her question. He had cracked the door and was peering out.

  “Another blackout?” Rachael asked.

  “Most likely Sanchez,” said Emma. “Knowing him, he’s cut the power.” She hugged herself in an attempt to pull it together. For some reason, she was suddenly freezing.

  “Does that take away their advantage then?” Aaron asked.

  “That would be the idea,” said Emma. “But something tells me Mac probably prepared for it.”

  “Yes, unfortunately for us, he did,” said Sam. “There are backup generators on all our surveillance systems. The hallways will be darker though. That might help some.”

  “All right, Hackett,” said Jon. He slipped the handgun into the back of his pants and pulled his blazer down over it. Emma knew it probably killed him not to have it out, but if they were going to get through Sam’s men, he didn’t have much choice. “Our lives are in your hands. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Sam looked back at Emma. “Yeah, me too.”

  As they slipped out into the hallway, Emma realized that it was the first time she had even been on this side of the second floor. The layout was like the floor above them, with a long open hallway that ran across the entire front of the hotel beside floor-to-ceiling windows. On the nights she had been out of her room and had the time to notice, she’d seen the city of Dallas lit up for miles. Right now, though, most of the block around them was completely dark. She wondered if there were snipers on the roofs of other buildings, but then decided all the other buildings must be too far away.

  “Not really,” said Jon.

  Emma hadn’t realized he was right beside her. “What?”

  “The snipers. You’d be surprised from how far away, and with how little light, they can hit their target.”

  “And how did you know that’s what I was thinking about?”

  “Because I know you,” he answered. “Because from the minute we stepped into this situation you started running every worst-case scenario you could possibly think of. We’ve been together for over twenty years, Em. If I can’t read your mind by now, then what good am I?”

  Emma smiled. She only wished her head was clear enough to have been running through scenarios this whole time. “I see. So what am I thinking right now?”

  “That we’re not going to make it out of here.”

  Emma stopped smiling.

  They were coming up on a bend in the hallway where the side of the building curved to the right. The escalators would be just beyond that. If anyone was going to stop them, it would likely be there.

  “And?” she said.

  “And I refuse to accept that.”

  Sam was walking in the lead, about twenty feet in front of them. He suddenly held up a hand, then crept back to the others.

  “What?” Jon asked in a low voice.

  “I saw something.”

  “What do you mean, you saw something?”

  “A figure. Just around the corner by the elevators.”

  “O
ne of yours?”

  “Most likely. Though I can’t guarantee they’re friendly. I know the guys stationed over by the sky bridge at the end of the hall, but this may be a patrol—in which case, it’s one of the guys Mac brought in.”

  “So, what you’re saying is you’re not so sure you can get us past him?”

  “I have no idea whether Rat has made it back to base or what Mac has communicated to the patrols by now.”

  Jon and Aaron exchanged glances. Jon pulled out his gun. “Let me and Aaron go, then.”

  “Why?” Sam asked.

  “Because if it is one of Mac’s guys, and you go rushing in there with your gun pulled on him, then the jig is up and they’re going to know you’ve turned on them. But if Aaron and I go, then you can always say we overpowered you. It may give us the opportunity to figure out something else later.”

  “Or give Mac the opportunity to shoot you himself,” said Sam.

  “Maybe. And if that happens, I don’t care if you have to use yourself as a human shield, you will get the girls out of here. Is that understood?”

  Sam looked at Emma. “Yes.”

  “Good.” Jon took the rifle from Sam and handed it to Aaron. “Stay with him, Em.”

  Emma shifted closer to Sam. He offered her his hand, and she was grateful for the gesture. Her own hands were like ice, and her head was so fuzzy it was all she could do to walk straight.

  “Hey,” said Jon, cocking his gun. “That doesn’t mean you have to touch her.”

  Sam let go of her hand. “Fine. Protect her, but don’t touch her. I get it.”

  Jon turned to Aaron. “You know how to use that thing?”

  “Aim and pull the trigger?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I’m not so sure this is such a good idea, Jon,” said Emma.

  “Hey, if I can’t protect my own wife…”

  “… then what good are you?”

  Jon grinned. “Exactly.”

  As he and Aaron disappeared around the corner, Emma wrapped her arms around herself and scooted between the wall and Sam’s back, partially for the warmth, partially for balance. Her heart was pounding inside her head, and the dimness of the hallway, lit only faintly by the light of the moon and the buildings over a block away, wasn’t helping her dizziness. She wanted to tell herself that she wasn’t sure why she felt so bad, but that would be a lie. Her anxiety was getting progressively more severe. Something was wrong—wrong in a way that was even worse than having your life threatened by a group of deranged terrorists.