“I don’t know.”
“What if they went back there?”
“Honey . . .” He clutched her to his chest. “I don’t know.”
With each beat of his pounding heart, her emotions tipped the scales on her anger. Gabby hated crying. It showed weakness and instability. But the harder she fought it, the harder it was to breathe. The lump in her throat was enormous, blocking her airway. A wobbly inhalation had the smoke-filled air burning her lungs, and unable to fight anymore, she released a heaving sob.
Max clutched her to his chest. As she wrestled with her embarrassing meltdown, she tried to study the destruction zone through her blurry vision. The plane crash and following explosion had demolished several floors of cabins, destroying the access passage. She looked across the other side of the giant crater, to where the corridor to the cabins continued.
Blinking through the tears, she spied a green glow emanating from the left-hand side of the corridor. “Max! Look!” She pushed back from him, pointing across the void. “It could be okay. The emergency lights are on over there.”
“You’re right.” Max nodded. “We’ll have to go up a few floors and see if we can get there from the other side. Do you think you can walk?”
The worry in his chocolate-colored eyes confirmed his concern for her. It was absolute. But before she succumbed to his pity, she scraped herself together. She was a strong, independent woman. Wiping away her tears, she reminded herself she was Gabrielle Kinsella, anchorwoman for America Today. She was quite capable without a man’s help. And she wasn’t about to change that now.
Refusing to look at the bloody striations zig-zagging up her legs, she pushed to her feet, straightened her skirt, and dusted her hands on her thighs. “Let’s go find Sally and Adam.”
“Okay. Stay behind me this time.” Without waiting for her response, Max gathered his candle from the floor and strode back along the dim corridor. “I bet the kids are fine. They’re probably eating pizza or something and haven’t even realized what’s going on.”
She wanted to say, “Don’t be ridiculous.” Sally and Adam were not stupid. If anything, they were most likely looking for them. But, realizing Max was probably just trying to ease her stress, she said, “I hope you’re right.”
She’d taken a couple of steps, before she realized she was only wearing one shoe. The other one had torn off when she’d fallen. Damn it. They’d cost four hundred dollars and they were brand-new.
Their first two attempts at reaching their cabin failed, forcing them to go up three decks before they could get back down the other side. It took forever and with each frustrating minute, Gabby’s erratic emotions spun like a roulette wheel.
Fury over not knowing where their kids were.
Worry over whether or not they were okay.
Dread that they weren’t.
Guilt if they were.
Mild annoyance over the possibility that the kids were indeed eating ice cream somewhere.
And then fury would return.
The fact that neither she nor Max knew where their fifteen and thirteen-year-old children were highlighted just how fractured their family had become. Her mind flashed to that family that’d been eating ice cream on the pool deck just before the plane had hit. The next time she’d seen them, only the young girl had remained.
A paralyzing vise squeezed her heart as her mind slotted her family into the positions of those poor people. In the blink of an eye, nearly an entire family had been wiped out. Those were the stories Gabby lived for. It would be a ratings winner. Her stomach heaved at the irony of that horror.
The tang of blood confirmed she’d bitten her tongue.
Darkness heaved in around them. Blackness was complete, swallowing all shapes and angles.
The long, windowless corridors provided no light. Max’s candle was almost futile, proving to be more of a hinderance than help. Each time it snuffed out she cursed him first and then herself for losing her candle when she tumbled into that crater.
The ship’s sway had escalated so much that even with her hands out, it was impossible not to bump into walls.
Although the smoke seemed less dense, it still carried a caustic smell. Her tongue laced with the bitter taste and her thirst was unbearable.
Nobody was around. Normally, these corridors would have dozens of people strolling about. But it’d been forever since they’d encountered another person.
When they finally reached the end of deck four, a question blazed through her like a bolt of lightning.
Was the Captain abandoning ship?
The question drove both despair and determination through her.
Gritting her teeth and fighting her swirling thoughts, she sprinted behind Max, following the green emergency lighting to cabins 4274 and 4276.
Max banged on the first door. “Sally, Adam, are you in there?” He swiped his card, but it didn’t work. “Shit.” He bashed the door with his fist. “Sally! Adam!”
Gabby bashed on their cabin next door. The silence cut another slice from her heart.
A deafening explosion thundered below their feet. Gabby screamed. The walls shuddered. The doors rattled.
The green lights blinked out.
In the ensuing silence, the ship emitted an almighty groan.
“What the hell was that?” A wave of nausea ripped through her and a toxic smell as familiar as it was unwanted invaded her nostrils. Her knees buckled and she crumbled. Max caught her, tempering her fall, yet her hip hit the ground with enough force to bruise.
“Gabby! Gabby, stay with me babe.”
His voice was distant, like he was talking through a tunnel. And although she thought her eyes were open, she saw nothing. Her breathing grew louder and she clamped her teeth so hard her jaw ached.
Max pulled her head onto his lap and stroked her hair. “It’s okay, babe. I’m here, just ride it out, honey.”
His voice was a million miles away, and lower in pitch, like in slow-motion replay. The smell was hideous and she bucked with a violent gag, trying to rid the stench from her body. It was in her mouth, in her veins. Invading her body. She bucked again; tremors rained through her.
Max clamped his arms around her body, pinning her down. “It’s okay, Gabby. I’m here with you, honey. You’re okay.”
Her breathing was heavy. It hurt. Her chest hurt. As did her throat. A groan tumbled from her lips. Blood coursed through her veins in thick, forceful pulses making her fingers and legs spasm. Oh God. It hurts too much.
“There you go. It’s over now.” His warm palm rested on her cheek and he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Hey, baby. You back with me now?”
Her words wouldn’t form. Her tongue wouldn’t move. All she could do was moan.
“Good girl. It’s okay. You’re nearly there.”
She swallowed the violent bitterness and inhaled a hint of Max’s tropical cologne. It was one of the things she loved about him—he always smelled so good.
A flickering light came into view—a flame. Her heart thudded. Coarse carpet scraped at her legs. She squinted at her surroundings. Why am I on the floor? She tried to push up.
“Okay, take it easy.”
She blinked at the voice. It was Max, but she could barely see him. “What happened?”
“You had a seizure, babe. That’s all.”
Her legs were stinging, foreign. Her tongue was a brick, barely able to move. She smacked her lips together. Peering through the darkness, she tried to make out shapes. Everything was rectangular. A door. A long passageway. She searched her brain, trying to piece things together, but the puzzle remained jumbled. “What happened? Where are we?”
Max touched her cheek, gentle and warm. “It’s a long story. Give it a moment and you’ll remember.”
No sooner had he said it than memories flooded back. The plane crash. The woman with no leg. The bloody body in the pool. The covered bodies. Sally and Adam. “The kids! We’re trying to find them.” A rod of fear scraped up he
r back.
“That’s right. Are you okay?”
“Yes. We need to find them.”
He touched her shoulder. “And we will; just give yourself a moment. Where’s your medication?”
Her breath hitched. Without my drugs, I won’t survive.
She pointed a shaky finger at the locked cabin door. “In there.”
Chapter Sixteen
Madeline’s stomach flipped as she looked down the elevator shaft. It was dark and uninviting. The bottom was a long way down. At least six decks. The glow far below provided enough light to see the walls. But only just.
Sterling was on his stomach beside her. His sharp breathing confirmed his mutual distress.
To the front of the shaft was the bottom half of an elevator door, confirming they had stopped between levels. She turned to Sterling and was surprised by his pale blue eyes; for some reason she’d thought they were brown. His hair was blond and wavy. He looked more like a professional surfer than an elementary school teacher. “Do you think we can open those doors?”
He groaned, but nodded. “It’s worth a try.”
She wriggled forward, lowering herself farther to get a better look. The walls on the left were a series of metal rungs like a giant ladder. Each rung was positioned a good four feet apart. On the other side of the shaft were a series of metal grills, like shelves on a bookcase, also about four feet apart. Beyond that was another large rectangular void. The other elevator! “Oh my God.”
“What?” Sterling turned her way.
“What if there are other people stuck in an elevator? Maybe they’re rescuing them first. It would explain the delay.”
He scrunched up his forehead. “But why wouldn’t they tell us? How many elevators are there?”
Blinking at him, she considered his reply. “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense. There are only eight elevators. They should have come to us by now.”
The silence was so complete that the words ghost ship tumbled into her brain.
She shoved that shitty thought aside. “We have to get to those doors.”
“Yeah. But how?”
Once they reached the wall, reaching the doors would be easy. Getting out of the elevator was the hard part. The trap door was positioned against the back wall, right in the middle. The back wall of the elevator shaft was a giant sheet of metal that ran straight down to the bottom. Down the middle of it were two parallel bars that were separated by about six inches. It wasn’t exactly designed for climbing.
Weaving her hand through the trapdoor, she reached toward the bars on the back wall and groaned. “Damn it. They’re covered in grease. They’ll be no help . . . too slippery.” She pulled her hand back in and wiped grease on the rolled over carpet.
The distance between the trap door and the side wall was about four feet. Madeline was five foot four. She had an idea. “If you hang onto my feet, I should be able to reach those grills.”
“Jesus!” His eyes bulged. “Are you crazy?”
“You saw me on the high ropes. This is nothing.”
“That’s not a great comparison.”
“We have to try. I can’t stay in here any longer.”
He huffed. “Me neither. Maybe I can reach the grills.”
“Only if your arms are four feet long.”
His groan confirmed he agreed.
Madeline was willing to give it a go. But she had one serious problem to address before she did anything. Clearing her throat, she cringed at what she was about to say. “Sterling?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry, but I need to go to the bathroom.”
“I am so with you on that.” He chuckled. “You can go first.”
She wriggled back from the hole, and because he was still on his stomach at the back of the elevator, looking down the hole, she moved to the front, near the door. Her choice of outfit today was a shorts jumpsuit. Which meant she had to strip right out of it to go to the bathroom. For the first time since she’d been trapped in the elevator, she was annoyed that there was some light.
With her breath trapped in her throat, and silently praying that Sterling didn’t glance her way, and that the stupid lights didn’t suddenly spring to life, she unzipped out of her clothing, stepped to the corner and squatted. The ship’s sway forced her to put her hand on the wall to avoid toppling over.
“How long do you think we’ve been in here?” he asked.
Jesus. I’m practically naked and he’s talking to me while I’m trying to pee.
Heat blazed up her neck. Dying on the inside, she was torn between answering and trying to get it over with. When the sound of her peeing on the carpet filled the silence, adding another layer to her humiliation, she cleared her throat. “It’s got to be hours.”
“Four? Five?”
“At least.”
She finished and redressed quicker than any dress changes she’d ever done for her stage performances. “Your turn.”
He pushed up from the floor. “Which was your designated pee corner?”
“Huh?”
She saw his smile for the first time. It was an interesting mix of innocent and cheeky. “You know.” He chuckled. “The joke about being stuck in an elevator and assigning corners for the bathroom.”
“Oh.” She emitted an awkward snigger but she sounded like a strangled hyena. “Ummm . . . the front right-hand side.”
“The joke doesn’t seem so funny now, does it?”
“No. Not funny at all.” Replacing his position at the back, she squatted down. She heard his zipper and as she scanned the elevator shaft, she tried to block out any further sounds.
Moments later, he lay on his stomach beside her again.
“Are you sure about this, Madeline?”
“Absolutely.” She hoped he didn’t notice the uncertainty in her voice.
The height didn’t worry her and although she knew she could do it, there was a little niggling voice in the back of her brain telling her she’d fail. The childlike tone was nearly always there, instigating crippling self-doubt that often had her giving up before she’d even tried.
Not this time, though. Not when her only other choice was to return to the stifling cube and simply wait to be rescued. She couldn’t do that a moment more. Pushing through the negative vibes, she capitalized on the adrenalin pumping through her veins instead. It was the same sensation she had before every show. It’d helped her succeed hundreds of times before. “I’ll lean in through the hole, headfirst. You just need to hang onto my feet.”
“Okay.”
She couldn’t read his voice and wished she could see him properly. To see if he truly was committed. After all, he was literally about to have her life in his hands. “And, Sterling?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t let go.”
“I won’t. I promise.” His hand touched her arm and slid up to her shoulder. “You’re so brave.”
Madeline huffed. After she’d been rescued from that dungeon, she’d been told a thousand times over that she was brave. But it never made any sense. Brave people took risks, sometimes deadly risks, for the sake of others. When she was held captive, she hadn’t taken any risks to try to escape.
It was very different now though.
She was taking a risk. In fact, she was risking her life to save them both. A warm glow filtered through her, tingling out to her extremities, boosting her resolve. Sterling was right. What she was about to do really was brave.
Riding that triumphant notion, she lay on her stomach on the floor. “Okay, here we go.” She curled her head, shoulders and upper body into the hole face-first, bending at the hips.
Sterling squeezed her ankles and she winced at the pain. She’d forgotten all about her bruising. Clenching her jaw to block it out, she focused on the horizontal grill she was aiming for. The thumping pulse in her neck was twice as forceful now that she was upside-down. She stretched her fingers toward the grill, but was still a good foot or so away.
&nbs
p; “Sterling, I need to flip over.”
“Okay.”
Gripping onto the edge of the trap door, she curled over so only from her knees to her toes were still in the elevator. “Okay, hang on.”
“I’ve got you.” His voice boomed with authority. She imagined it was a tone he used often around the schoolyard.
She released her hands and curled backward into the shaft. The ship groaned as if casting a warning. Oh God. The hairs on her neck bristled. What the hell am I doing?
She reached out again. Yes! Her fingers hooked into the metal. “I got it. Okay, lower me down.”
Sterling squeezed her bruised ankle, and gritting her teeth, she blocked the agony as she was lowered into the shaft. The grill was the perfect design for hanging onto and with each inch she sank, the more purchase she had. Once she had the length of her forearm across the grill, she said, “Okay, let me go.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Yes, let me go.”
He released her right ankle, but squeezed tighter on her left. “Sterling, let go!”
He did, and using her core strength, she lowered her body until her Vans were safely on the flat lower grill. “Okay, I did it.”
“Oh my God. You’re amazing.”
The ship tilted sideways. The elevator screeched against the walls. Madeline ducked, pressed her palms to her ears, and prayed the thing didn’t come plummeting down. The sound was excruciating. Like metal being shredded by a chainsaw. Her heart pounded out every second.
When peace returned, a renewed sense of urgency blazed through her. “Sterling, get down here.”
“What?” His voice was shrill, like he was being smothered.
“It’s your turn. I’m not climbing down this thing alone. Lower yourself feet first. You’re taller than me so I’ll be able to swing you over to the ledge with me.”
“Shit! Shit! I don’t know about this. Shit! Shit!”
“You can do it.”
“Just let me think, okay?”
His footsteps pounded in the elevator as he paced back and forth. The sound had her tumbling back sixteen years, pitching her into that dungeon where she’d paced the dark space, over and over. And over. Nine big strides, or thirteen normal ones. Nine. Thirteen. Nine. Thirteen. She’d crossed that room at least a thousand times. She hoped Sterling wouldn’t take too long.
Waves of Fate | Book 1 | First Fate Page 12
