by Tate, Harley
The boom of the shotgun caught her off guard and Holly gasped. Her hand flew to her mouth as her father racked the shotgun to fire again. Before he could, he jerked in place, once, twice, three times.
Blood bloomed on his white dress shirt as he wobbled and fell sideways to the floor. His head came to rest on the linoleum in the same spot she’d wiped only a few minutes before. Holly stared in horror at her father’s lifeless brown eyes, staring straight at her, unblinking.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she watched the killer step forward.
Crouching at her father’s dead body, he plucked buckshot from his vest and tossed the fragments on the floor. “I just bought this vest you SOB.”
Holly kept as still as possible, not daring to even breathe. If he turned around, he would see her. She couldn’t let that happen. Not after her father asked her to hide. Not after watching him die…
The light in the kitchen flickered before turning off.
“What the…” The intruder stood and cursed as he looked around.
Is the power out? Before Holly could move, he strode right up to the basement door. She froze. I’m not here. I’m not here. I’m not here. She kept repeating the phrase over and over in her head, willing the man to leave. Blood whooshed in her ears and her heart slammed against her ribs.
Now I know what deer feel like. She could barely breathe, each more frantic and shallow than the last. She closed her eyes. Tried to find some courage.
I have to hide. I have to try for my dad.
With careful, quiet movements, Holly eased away from the door and down the stairs. In the dark, the unfinished basement loomed like a horror movie set, full of spiderwebs and dust. She paused as her bare feet met dusty concrete. The basement provided little to no cover, HVAC in the middle, storage boxes along the far wall. No hallways, no doors, no secret compartments. Except…
With arms outstretched like the bride of Frankenstein, Holly eased around the stairs into the small alcove behind. Shielded from immediate view, she might survive a cursory search. Her foot caught on something soft and she bent down, finding a stack of moving blankets her father had kept for who knew what. Thanks, Dad. Holly wrapped one around her shoulders and tucked herself as tightly as possible beneath the stairs. The blanket’s layer of dust tickled her nose, but she held back the sneeze.
As she settled in to wait, images of her father’s dead body crowded her mind. His bloody shirt. His vacant stare. Tears renewed their flow down her cheeks. Her father was dead.
And she wasn’t alone.
Chapter Five
John
“A little bit more…” John grunted with the effort as he pushed against the elevator door. “As soon as you can, shove that book in the space.”
Pages crinkled behind him. “Done.” Emma stepped back out of the way and John eased off the door. The paperback from her bag squished and warped with the weight of the metal but held.
John rolled his shoulders. “Now that we have a bit of leverage, as long as we all push together, the safety should release, and the doors should slide open.”
“How do you know all this?” Tyler eyed him with curiosity. “Are you a firefighter or something?”
“Or something.” John took a deep breath. “Ready?”
Tyler and Emma braced themselves against the other door. “Ready.”
“On three. One, two, three.” The doors wobbled under the new pressure, reluctantly inching away from each other until something inside clicked and they rolled back with ease.
Tyler stumbled and bumped into the elevator wall. “Now can we—” His words petered out when he turned to face the solid concrete. “What the heck?”
“Looks like we’re between floors.” Emma puffed out her cheeks before exhaling in a burst. “Guess we’re stuck.”
John stared in irritation at the solid wall. Not what he’d anticipated. Sure, elevators got stuck every which way, but today he’d hoped for an easy out. Without help, there was only one other way. He peered up at the ceiling.
Ordinary commercial elevator, secured trap door for emergency access. He thought it over. Difficult, but not impossible. Decisions, decisions.
Option one, he could finish the job right now and escape on his own. He glanced first at Emma and then at Tyler slumped on the floor in protest. It would mean collateral damage; something he avoided at all costs. And if the power flickered back to life… The last thing he needed was a sea of onlookers and two dead bodies at his feet.
Option two, he could help them both escape and find a way to deal with Emma Cross on his own. No collateral, less risk of exposure. Longer timeframe, but more his style. He turned to his companions. “We can either wait for help which may never come, or we could try option two.”
“Which is?” Tyler rubbed his shoulder as he grimaced at the concrete.
John pointed up.
“Through the ceiling?” Emma blinked. “I thought that was only in the movies.”
“There’s an emergency roof hatch in all elevators, but they’re usually accessed from the top, not the bottom.”
“And that’s a problem?”
John nodded. “I’m guessing it’s locked. Might take a bit of force to bust loose.”
From his seat on the floor, Tyler groaned. “If you hadn’t noticed, we’re lab techs, not linebackers.”
John lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe you should spend some time at the gym. You never know when a bit of strength might come in handy.” He turned to Emma. “If you and Tyler can give me a lift, I’ll try.”
“You really think that’s the only way?”
He nodded.
After a moment, Emma held her hand out to Tyler. “You don’t want to sit there all night, do you?”
“You know I don’t!” He stood up in a rush and focused on John. “What do you want us to do?”
“Interlock your fingers and make a sling. If you both hold tight, I can springboard off your hands and hit the ceiling with my shoulder.” John ignored the pointed stare from Tyler and waited until they were in position. As soon as Emma gave the go-ahead, he placed one foot in their hands, grabbed each by the shoulder, and hoisted himself into the air.
His shoulder slammed into the metal ceiling and it lifted an inch before hitting the latches. Not enough. He landed hard on his one foot and stepped back. “A couple more times and I’ll have it.”
Emma cut Tyler off before he could dissent. “Are you sure?”
Of course I’m sure. John bit back the snippy retort. Keeping on Emma’s good side was more important than setting the record straight. “Only one way to find out.”
She nodded and cajoled Tyler into holding out his hands with a nudge and an encouraging smile. Strange. Of the pair of them, she was the biggest team player in the group. Not what John expected from a whistleblower. But he wasn’t paid to question orders. He took a deep breath and hoisted himself up once more, this time launching with even more force.
Two latches broke. Again, they worked as a team, propelling John up into the ceiling. Another latch. Only three to go. It took two more tries, but on the last attempt, the remaining latch snapped, and the ceiling hatch swung into the air. It crashed open as John lunged forward, barely catching himself on the top of the elevator. His arms slid, but he scrambled for purchase, grabbing a stalk of bundled cables to stop his slide back into the elevator cab.
“Are you all right?” Emma’s voice carried out of the cab and into the cavernous space of the elevator shaft.
John ignored the concern in her voice. “Yep. Gimme a sec.” Using his lower body like a pendulum, he swung back and forward until he could hook a knee above the ceiling and hoist himself clear. As he fell back onto the ceiling of the cab, he sucked in a breath.
It had been a while since he’d trained for physical contingencies. The last few jobs were impersonal, distant targets. No personal danger, no physical risk. He was getting weak. That needed to change.
“Is there a way out?”
&n
bsp; John hesitated before answering. Part of him wanted to end the charade and take care of them both. But Tyler didn’t deserve it, even if he was a distinct pain. John rolled over and lit up the dark shaft with his phone. No emergency ladders. The closest doors were three feet up and shut tight. Unless he turned into the Hulk in the next few minutes, he needed help to escape.
He swiped the screen to read a waiting message. Klein confirmed. Bravo II compromised. Add Sanchez to your list. Current location unknown.
John frowned. He’d planned to take care of Cross and hit the road. The longer he stayed in Atlanta, the riskier the mission. If he needed to track down Gloria Sanchez… It could take days. Not ideal.
In the concrete chute of the elevator shaft, his satellite phone couldn’t transmit, but he could queue a message to send. He typed a quick response. Logistical problem. Power’s out. ETA now unknown. Sanchez will add to the timeline. Confirm necessary. He pocketed the phone and reached into his back pocket.
If he was going to pull Emma and Tyler free, he needed insurance. From his wallet, John extracted a small, folded paper. He peeled a sticker from the interior, adhering it to his thumb before rolling back onto his stomach. “I’ll lean down,” he offered to Tyler. “You grab hold and I’ll hoist you up.”
“No way, man,” Tyler balked. “I’m way too heavy. You’ll pull your shoulder out of place or something.”
“I can go last.” Emma offered. “If I help hoist you up, you can do it.”
There she goes again, helping out. John wished she would stop being so annoyingly nice. It didn’t make his job any easier. He held out his arm. “She’s right. It’s the only option unless you want to stay here.”
Tyler pried himself off the floor. “Not a chance.” He turned to Emma. “Are you sure?”
She nodded as she lowered into a half-kneel. “Use my thigh as a step.”
“It’s going to hurt.”
“If we get out of this, it won’t matter. Go on.” Emma patted her leg in encouragement.
After a moment, Tyler acquiesced. “Ready?”
“Let’s do it.” John straightened his arm as Tyler braced himself on Emma’s leg. With a heave, a garbled string of curses, and a muffled cry from Emma down in the cab, John yanked Tyler through the opening. He landed hard on John’s shoulder and it took all his willpower not to shove him away.
“Sorry.” Tyler scrambled off and almost fell back into the open cab, his foot catching on the electrical cables. He glanced up at the cavernous dark above them. “I don’t think I’ll ever take another elevator.”
John snorted. “Give it a week and you’ll be sick of the stairs.” He twisted back to the open cab and his target.
Emma stood patiently, her arms wrapped around herself, as she waited.
“Don’t worry, this won’t be that hard.” He held down his arm. “Just don’t let go.”
She reached up on her tiptoes and grasped his forearm with slender fingers. He wrapped his hand around her arm and dug in until she winced. On the count of three, he lifted, pulling her straight up and over the lip of the ceiling. She wobbled as she stood and he grabbed her hips, covertly rolling the sticker off his thumb and onto the waistband of her pants. “You can steady yourself on those cables. Worked for me.”
Emma did as instructed, practically hugging the wires as she pulled out of his grasp.
He smiled as big as he could muster. “See? Definitely easier.”
She nodded but kept holding on. “Now what?”
Now I figure out a way to ditch your friend here and finally finish my job. He pretended to care about the dust on his pants and sweater. “We pry the doors open and we’re free.”
With the experience of the first set of doors behind them, it took only a few minutes to disengage the second set. They slid open to a dark office and fractured conversations. A beam of light bounced over the ceiling and walls before landing smack in John’s face.
“Oh my gosh! Are you okay?”
He held an arm up as a shield.
“Oh, sorry.” The light lowered to reveal a middle-aged woman in a skirt suit and a reflective yellow vest.
“We’re ready to get out of here is what we are.” Tyler palmed the floor of the office and pressed himself up until he cleared the edge. “You have no idea how difficult it is to escape an elevator without the fire department. What’s going on?”
The woman answered with a question. “Which floor are you from?”
“Fifth.”
She lifted a clipboard to her face and squinted to read the words. “The laboratory? Oh, okay. For a minute I thought you might be clients. Wouldn’t that be a pickle.” She smiled at all of them. “I’m the volunteer emergency coordinator for the law firm.”
John pulled himself out of the elevator and held a hand out for Emma. “As you can see, we’re fine.”
“Aren’t you a client?” Emma asked as he lifted her free of the elevator.
“Excuse me?”
“I thought you got off on the third floor this morning.”
Damn. He flashed a tight smile. “Opposing side, actually.”
“Oh, dear. Oh, my, well—” The clipboard woman stammered, her mouth opening and closing as she ran out of words.
He held up a hand. “It’s fine. No harm done.”
“Speak for yourself!” Tyler rubbed his shoulder. “I’m going to bruise like a dropped apple.”
Emma ignored the complaint as she turned to John. “Thank you so much for helping us, John. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
He hesitated for a beat before managing to smile. “Don’t mention it.”
Chapter Six
Emma
Emma couldn’t read the expression on John’s face, but she had more pressing things on her mind than his mood. Ever since the elevator stalled, all she could think about were the news reports from the morning about the sun and a potential widespread blackout. Was this it?
She stepped up to the woman with the clipboard. “Have you seen any news? Any information about what’s going on?”
The woman shook her head. “Everything is down. No power, no internet. I haven’t been able to make any calls. We just get that fast busy signal on the landline.”
A young woman hurried up to the volunteer coordinator. “Luanne, I can’t get ahold of Mr. Foster. I don’t know what’s happening in court, I’ve got four clients in conference rooms with no power. I don’t know what to do here.”
“Slow down, Angie. Can’t you see I’m talking to these nice people here?”
“It’s okay,” John offered. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”
Voices rose from the rear of the law firm lobby. “I’m telling you, it’s just a ploy by these good-for-nothing attorneys to get more money out of us!”
“Oh dear. If you’ll excuse me.” Luanne let the younger woman lead her away across the lobby.
Tyler motioned to the stairs. “We should check with the lab. See if they know anything.”
“Not a bad idea.” Emma turned to John. She hated to up and leave him after all of his help. “You’re welcome to come with us, if you’d like. There’s a break room with coffee and a vending machine—” She paused, flustered at her mistake thanks to the power outage. “Well, water anyway.”
He smiled. “Lead the way.”
Using Tyler’s phone as a light, they climbed up two floors and emerged on the fifth in time to see her boss hurry past with a flashlight and a duffel bag.
“Randall? What’s going on?”
He swung the flashlight toward her face. “You! What are you even doing here?”
“We’ve been stuck in an elevator for two hours.” Tyler crossed his arms, his laid-back vibe ruined by the afternoon’s events. “Care to fill us in?”
“You need me to spell it out for you? The power’s out, isn’t it obvious?”
“So, when is it getting fixed?”
Randall practically spit. “How should I know? Do I work at the p
ower company in my spare time?” Emma’s boss stormed past them to the elevator. He pushed the button and when it didn’t light up, a stream of profanity followed him back to the stairwell.
Tyler blocked his path. “What are we supposed to do now?”
“Go home!” Randall shoved his way past and tugged open the stairwell door. “And if you think I’m paying you for today, you’re crazy!” He stomped down the stairs, his feet echoing as the door swung shut behind him.
Tyler ran a hand through his hair, sticking it up in all directions. “What’s up his butt?”
Emma swallowed. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen Randall so animated, so—”
“Human?” Tyler snorted. “If he’s this twisted up, something big must be going on.”
Emma glanced at John. He hadn’t said a word since they left the law firm. “What do you think?”
He hesitated. “We need more information.”
“I agree.” Emma turned to Tyler. “You think you can get us online?”
“No way.” He cast a glance around the darkened lab. “If Randall’s not paying, I’ve got to get home. I’ve got class tomorrow and a ton of homework.”
Emma nodded. She’d forgotten Tyler was still so young. “Of course. You go. We can handle ourselves.” She reached out and squeezed his arm. “Be careful, okay?”
“Hey, there aren’t any elevators from here to my parents’ place, so I’m golden.” He grinned and a bit of the old Tyler was back. “Thanks, man. Sorry I was such a wimp.” He stuck out his hand to John.
“No problem.” John smiled and shook Tyler’s hand before the younger man gave a final wave and disappeared down the stairs.
Emma exhaled. “Still want to stick around?”
“Why not?” John shrugged. “About that kitchen, though...”
“Right!” Emma chastised herself. Her throat was so dry it hurt to swallow; John’s must be worse. She hurried to the break room with him close behind. Inside, a pair of techs she knew in passing huddled around an illuminated screen.
