by J. M. Snyder
Ash’s heart sank. He didn’t want to be right about this. There were plenty of perfectly good reasons for a wall to have a little bit of play in it, weren’t there? Maybe it simple wasn’t load bearing.
Who was Ash kidding? He’d never seen a wall that wasn’t load bearing, not once in all his years. He saw them sometimes on home renovation shows, but he’d never seen one in person. And a wall that wasn’t load bearing would have no reason to give. It would just hang out and divide things, in a plaster like fashion. He wouldn’t have any reason to fear.
He wiped his palms on his dirty pants as he climbed the stairs. It had to be his imagination, the way they creaked and shook. He wasn’t at all imagining how narrow they were. It was like that time back in Yemen, when he’d had to climb out of a bombed- out basement.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t exactly like that time. He had his fears, and the dark and narrow passage was definitely cramped, but the air was still clean. There was no fire and no stink of bodies. He would get out of this.
He emerged with Porthos onto the second floor. It didn’t take much time to find a problem. All Ash had to do was look around. The ceiling sagged in a few places, with oddly colored liquid dripping from it like a coffee filter. Other places had spreading water stains, right there on the ceiling, and the ground underneath them was damp to the touch. “Ross,” he yelled. Jesus Christ, what was going on with this place? “Ross, you’re going to want to see this.”
Ross’s heavy-booted feet rang out against the stairs, which apparently didn’t give him as many concerns or fears as they had Ash. “What’s wrong?” He stepped into the hallway. “That’s not good.” He looked over at Ash. “Where’s the attic in this place?”
“I just got up here.” Did Ross expect Ash to have downloaded the blueprint for this place? This wasn’t television, for crying out loud. “Your guess is as good as mine. I hope it’s not one of those pull-down trap doors, though. I’m afraid of what would happen if we tried.”
Ross shuddered, and Porthos whined. “We’ve got to do what we’ve got to do, you know?” He inched forward and started opening doors.
Porthos whined again, but stayed by Ash’s side when he did the same. On the one hand, they wouldn’t change anything by finding the leak. They had no supplies and no tools. On the other hand, at least they’d have some idea of what they were dealing with.
He found the attic on the second door he tried and headed up the stairs. He already knew it wouldn’t be good. Ice-cold air kissed his face, and that air was damp. No good could come from those sensations mixed together.
He pushed ahead into the gloom, using his phone to light the way. It worked, to some extent anyway. The rest of the way was lit by the fading daylight, reflected by the snow that had fallen generously into the attic. The hole in the roof wasn’t just a little bit of a rupture. It was as wide as Ash was tall, and it was just as tall.
And it wasn’t the only one.
“We couldn’t have known.” Ross stopped short, looking at the filtered sunlight. “We could never have seen that, in the snowstorm.”
“Of course not.” Ash put a hand on Ross’ shoulder. He knew Ross must be dying from guilt right now. He refrained from pointing out that he hadn’t been part of that decision, since he’d been unconscious—Ross had made the best decision he could under the circumstances. He gave a little squeeze before dropping his hand. “Come on. Let’s get back onto ground level. It’s safest there.”
Neither one of them spoke as they raced back to their primary living level. Ash didn’t want to think about all of the different ways the roof issue could go wrong. When they got to the bottom, Ross grabbed his radio. “Hey dispatch, this is Huber. We’ve found a bit of a problem with the structure we’re in, multiple structural failures, over.”
Ash held his breath. He’d been in worse situations. He knew he had. That didn’t mean his body wasn’t sending as much adrenaline as it could generate to every inch of his body right now. He hated looking for help, but they needed more than themselves to get out of this situation.
“Huber, this is dispatch. Thanks for the update. Can you define ‘multiple structural failures’? Over.” The woman’s voice made her sound young, but she kept her voice calm and professional.
Ross cleared his throat. “I counted five or six holes in the roof. They weren’t small. I think the roof is in imminent danger of collapse.”
Dispatch stayed silent for a moment. “Again, thank you for the update. I’ve advised rescue crews. All I can say, Huber, is sit tight and have faith. They’re moving as fast as they can.”
“I know. I just wanted to be sure everyone was appraised of the situation.” Ross licked his lips and glanced over at Ash. “Huber out. I’m guessing we should probably take a look at shutting down the electric to the house, huh?”
“Not a bad idea.” Ash swallowed hard. “I can go do it.” He scrambled for the electrical box, which was at the back of the house, and flipped the switch. “What about gas?”
“On it,” Ross told him. He was already running for the basement as he hurried to cut off gas service to the house. They couldn’t do anything about service from the street, like the water, but they’d do whatever they could to minimize property damage in case of disaster.
The downside to having done all of that was they now had no light and no heat. Ash gathered his dog into his lap and sat under the blanket. “So,” he said with fake cheer. “This is nice and cozy.”
“It ain’t the Ritz,” Ross huffed, “but I’m afraid it’s the best we can do under the circumstances. I bet you never figured you’d be fighting for your life when you came back to the States, huh?”
Ash had to laugh at that. “Well, no, I didn’t. I figured it would be pretty tame, to be honest. You know, issues with the schools, the occasional gubernatorial scandal, baseball riots I could cover safely from several miles away, that kind of thing.”
Ross clapped his hands, laughing. “Yeah, you remember that, huh? Man, you wouldn’t leave campus for days after that.”
“You think?” Alex chuckled. He could laugh about it now. All I could think about was getting lumped in with these chuckleheads.” He let Ross bring his blanket over and cuddle up with him and Porthos, much to Porthos’s chagrin. “It’s not like a riot cop can sit there in the middle of things and check who you’re supporting, you know?”
“I guess not.” Ross shrugged. “I just remember every time we’d try to go out somewhere with you, you’d just cross your arms over your chest and say, ‘Nothing doing.’”
“Yeah, and I was right too. Who seriously riots when they win? Over not having food or not having civil rights, sure. But because your team won? Seriously? Give me a break.” He shook his head. “And you were awesome. You brought me back food and stuff, it was great.”
“Well I didn’t want you to starve or anything.” Ross looked away for a moment. “Is there anything we can do if the roof collapses? Any room that’s more stable?”
Ash ran his tongue against the back of his teeth. He wanted to give Ross hope, but there wasn’t any. “If we stick to the edges of the house we’re more likely to survive the initial collapse, but there’s debris and stuff.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Ross said. They lapsed into silence, and waited for rescue.
Chapter 7
Ross had been in more than a few dicey situations. He’d done crowd control. He’d been in some shootouts. He’d dealt with drug runners and the occasional trafficking ring. He’d never once sat in a room and waited for the worst.
He tried to play it cool and pretend faith was a thing, but every little creak and sound in the old house was a death sentence. “At least we don’t have anything in our stomachs,” he quipped.
Ash chuckled, surprising him. “Right? I think I’d have puked by now. And that wouldn’t help anyone.” He scratched Porthos behind his ears. “It’s weird though. I’ve been in this kind of situation a few times. You never get used to it.”
“You’ve sa
t and waited for a house to fall on you?” Ross frowned and looked over at Ash. “How does that even happen?”
“Bombs, mudslides, bombs again. The usual. It’s a thing. But it’s like…I’m still jumping at every little sound.” Ross’ radio squawked, and all three of them jumped. Ash gave another nervous laugh, and even Porthos looked a little sheepish. “Yeah, just like that.”
Ross reached out from their little blanket nest to answer the call. “Huber here.”
“Huber, this is Sgt. Dixon. We’re probably about a mile away from your location. What’s your situation right now?”
Ross let out a sigh of relief. A mile wasn’t far at all. “That’s great news, Sergeant. Um, we’ve turned off the electric and gas to the structure, but we can’t kill the mains at the street. The roof has about five large holes along with some bowing. The snow load is significant, but there is no water damage on the first floor as of yet.”
“Any injuries?” Dixon didn’t let any emotion come through in his voice. That was standard procedure, and most people complained about it when they were in Ross’ shoes. Ross found it helpful. He could focus.
“The civilian has some old injuries that affect his ability to participate in rescue efforts,” he reported. Ash elbowed him in the side with his good arm. “His bout of carbon monoxide poisoning doesn’t seem to have had any lasting effects, though.”
“Excellent. We’re going to do everything in our power to get to you before that thing goes down, okay? Sit tight. It shouldn’t be long now.”
“Yes, sir.” Ross exhaled. He could see a light at the end of this long-ass tunnel. “Hear that, Ash? It won’t be long now.”
Porthos wagged his tail, thumping it against the floor. Ash nodded, but he just looked away. “Sorry. I’m not going to be comfortable until we’re actually out of here and we get to someplace safe.” He managed a shaky grin. “Force of habit, I guess.” He looked down for a second. “What’s your plan for after we get out of here?”
Ross knew he was changing the subject. It made sense, even if Ross didn’t want to think about it too much. Ash was the guy who got to go in and cover the stories when everything that could go wrong, had. He’d play along with Ash’s attempt to not think about things, though. He understood the impulse. “I’m going to shower,” he said.
Ash raised his eyebrows. “You’re not going to go get a cheeseburger or something?”
Ross chuckled. “Gave up red meat, actually.”
Ash dropped his jaw. Ross couldn’t help but think about all of the things he wanted to do with that jaw, but he kept his mouth shut about it.
“You gave up red meat?” Ash pulled his head back a little bit. “I can’t believe it. Why would you do something like that?”
“My dad had a heart attack a couple of years back. He’s over it, he’s doing a lot better, but it threw a scare into the whole family. So no more red meat, we’re all exercising a lot more, eating our vegetables—just trying to think about heart health a lot more.” Ross squirmed. “I know it sounds stupid.”
“No, no, not at all. It sounds smart. It must have been rough on you being cooped up all this time, not able to move around the way you wanted to.” Ash bit his lip and looked away.
“Yeah, maybe.” Ross huffed out a little half-laugh. “Maybe that’s part of the reason I flew off the handle so much. I’m a lot more even tempered when I’m able to work out.”
“Yeah, well. That’s normal.” Ash rested his head on Ross’ shoulder, and it felt like heaven to him. “It’s good you’re making those changes while you’re still young, though. And I’m glad your dad’s doing okay.”
“Oh, he’s better than okay. He’s set to run his first marathon this year. You know my dad. He never does anything by halves.” Ross took a chance and slung his arm around Ash’s shoulder. “So yeah, I’m going to have a shower, and then I’m going to get something to eat. Then I’m going to sleep in a real bed, somewhere with real heat, and I’m going to love every second of it. You?”
Ash chuckled. “Well, my boss has officially absolved me of making that trip out to the ski area. Which I appreciate, by the way. I’m going to head back to the hotel. I’m going to take a shower, like you said. I’ll find some food, and then Porthos and I are going to curl up for like a year. Maybe I’ll see if we can teach from the bed, you know, remotely.” He grinned wickedly. “Oh, and I’m banning all tinfoil from the house, when I find one.” He shook their reflective blanket. Even Porthos looked at it with disdain.
Ross gaped. “You don’t have a place to live yet?”
“Nope.” Ash sighed. “I haven’t been back here very long, remember? The whole reason I didn’t realize a state of emergency had been declared was because I hadn’t reset my phone to get the alerts here. So yeah.” He picked his head up off Ross’s shoulder.
“Where’s the studio you’re working at?” Ross’ mouth went dry.
“It’s right downtown. I can’t afford to live downtown. I don’t think anyone can. But I’ll look at some places in, say, Somerville. There’s a good-sized Latin population there.” Ash toyed with the hem of the blanket.
“You can stay with me,” Ross offered. “I mean I know it’s not perfect. It’s a little further out than you probably wanted and it’s not a place of your own, but at least it’s got a yard for Porthos.”
“Thanks for the offer,” Ash told him after a second, “but I’m not sure that’s a great idea.”
Ross looked down. “You know I’d have stopped seeing those other guys if you’d have been willing to come out for me, right? I meant that when I said that.”
Ash looked away. “And I might have come out for you if it hadn’t been for the whole cas—” He stopped himself. “If it weren’t for the whole multiple partners thing. It was too much of a risk, when I still depended on my family for things like housing and book money, but I’d probably have taken it if I was your one and only. I wasn’t going to do it and live with that constant jealousy, you know?”
Ross pulled Ash in a little closer. “I never understood—hell most of the time I didn’t know you were jealous. You didn’t say.”
“Well, I’d agreed to be with you under those conditions, right? I didn’t feel like I had any right to say it. But it bugged me, ate at me.” He grinned. “I’m older now. I know better. I know I can speak up for what I need, and what I can and can’t handle. But I was willing to give it a try. I loved you that much.” He smiled a little. “I think that’s important, you know? I know now that it’s not right for me, but I didn’t know that then. And I wanted to be with you, so I made the effort. In hindsight, I think I can be kind of proud of that. I didn’t just reject it out of hand.”
“And I don’t need to be with more than one person anymore.” Ross chuckled. “I’m not judging folks who do. It’s fine, and it was fine for me back then. But people’s needs shift over time, and that’s okay too.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to lose contact when we get out of this place, Ash.”
Ash met his eyes. Ross saw a lot there—hesitation and mistrust, but also hope. “I want to stay in touch. I want to—” He stopped and tilted his head as Porthos slipped out from under the blanket. “Did you hear that?”
Ross groaned. His instinct was to suggest this was just one more way Ash was trying to avoid an emotional discussion, but Porthos’ behavior told him there was something more. “What is it? Is there a rat or something? That’s all we need.”
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Ash said, struggling to his feet. Ross followed suit. “There was a groan.”
“That was me.” Ross shook his head, but he tensed up anyway. He could feel the change. Something was very, very wrong.
The next sound was so loud even Ross heard it. “Get down!” Ash tackled Ross and Porthos to the ground, covering them with his own body. Ross felt fur as Porthos burrowed in beside him and then, less than a second later, little bits of plaster dropped around him.
“Is that it?” He asked.
Th
e crash that followed was like thunder.
* * * *
Ash woke up with a pounding headache. For a second, he couldn’t quite remember what had happened. Everything around him was dusty, and he was pretty sure that wasn’t right. There was a warm body underneath him, though, and Porthos was next to him, so dust and a mess didn’t matter so much to him anymore.
Then Porthos groaned and coughed, and Ash remembered. The warm body underneath him wasn’t there because he had some fun last night. It was there because Ash had thrown him to the ground. Awesome. I tackled a cop. How’s that going to go? The pain in his chest and in his arm came from impact. If he had to guess, he’d say he had a head injury.
Crap. Porthos. He blinked until he could more or less see straight and checked on his dog. Porthos was in relatively good shape, as near as he could tell. The fluffy dog woke more fully as Ash ran his hands over him, looking for injuries. He didn’t find any spots that made Porthos yelp, and he didn’t find anything damp or bloody, so he figured they were good.
He pushed himself off of Ross. Ross was alive. Ash knew, because he’d felt his pulse underneath him, heard him breathing. It was too dark to see much, thanks to the time of day, but Ash could tell Ross was still out cold. It wasn’t a great sign.
He took a deep breath and coughed immediately. Between the cold and the dust, the air was an unholy mess. When he tried to stand up, he hissed with pain. Some of the falling debris had cut into his calf. He’d need stitches, and he would need to look into getting a tetanus booster. He wasn’t going to die from this, though. He ripped a chunk from his already torn shirt and used it as a makeshift bandage. Then he turned his attention back to Ross.
More of the debris had fallen on Ross than on Ash, just out of pure dumb luck. Ash couldn’t see clearly enough to tell for sure, but it looked like there were some big chunks of roof and beams on his legs. He bit his lip. Thanks to the condition of the building, he could hear the snow removal machinery working its way toward them. Should he wait for people in better condition, who could help Ross better than he could?
