Chapter 22 #2
The alarm changed, it shifted from the siren force to a ring that reminded me of old school bells. A hiss of sound had me looking up, but there was no water dumping on us. That was good, right?
My panting increased. “Guys…”
I hadn’t heard from AB, Legend, or Voodoo in a few minutes. I swung my head around to scan the area. O’Rourke was gone too. Shouting came from the hall, but I waited another ten seconds.
Bones rested more and more of his weight on me. His head listed forward as he wavered. It seemed to grow progressively more challenging for him to lean on me considering how hard it was getting just to breathe.
My lungs burned like I’d been sprinting uphill for miles, and every inhale felt thinner than the last. It wasn’t smoke—there was no smell, no sting. Just this creeping weight in the air. Invisible. Insidious.
Something hissed again overhead.
I looked up and saw the nozzles—dozens of them—lined across the ceiling like a silent army. The suppression system. Not foam. Not water.
Gas.
My stomach dropped.
“Bones,” I choked out, tightening my grip on him. “We gotta move. Now.”
He didn’t answer. His head dipped again, then jerked like he was trying to shake it off. But his knees buckled, and his whole body seemed to list and fall. There was nothing close enough to lean against and I went down with him as carefully as I could to keep him from hitting his head.
Or anything else for that matter.
“No, no, no—damn it.” I dropped into a half-crouch, dragging his arm over my shoulder again. He was damn near a dead weight. My legs screamed in protest, but I didn’t care.
We couldn’t stop. Not here.
“Come on, Bones,” I muttered, half-dragging, half-hauling him toward the blown-out door.
“You survived your time in the torture spa, you don’t get to die in a museum.
You might be old, but you are not that old.
” I grunted, growled, and groaned as I fought for every inch of space we achieved. “You stubborn bastard.”
The hiss grew louder—more vents kicking in. The air thinned further, my head swam, and my knees felt watery. I stumbled, slammed my shoulder into a shelf—when did that get there?—and nearly sent both of us back to the floor.
He groaned. That sound vibrated against my skin and lit a fire along my spine. He was still with me. Still breathing. Still fighting. If he could do it…
Then dammit, so would I.
I gritted my teeth and pushed us forward, one foot after another. I didn’t know where O’Rourke had gone. Didn’t know where anyone was. Comms were dead silent—like we were sealed in our own little hell, cut off from the world.
It was really hard to get a deep breath. The more I tried, the more my vision seemed to swim. Oh, and wasn’t that just great. Now I was seeing stars. I didn’t want to think about how low the oxygen had to be for me to feel it.
Pushing away from the shelves, I guided us across the room, following the path they’d made me memorize. Only, I wasn’t so sure about it at the moment.
The hallway stretched ahead—long, dark, scattered with debris. I didn’t know the museum had this many back corridors. I didn’t know where they went.
I saw light at the end of one. Flickering. Smoke-diffused.
Good enough for me.
Angling toward it, I stagger-walked with Bones like he weighed nothing and everything at the same time.
A burst of static hit my comm and I jerked, half stopping before I made myself keep going. Bones was trying to walk. We needed the momentum.
Then—finally—Legend’s voice.
“–exit north-side loading dock—repeat, Grace, do you copy?—”
I had no hand free, but hopefully if I was receiving, it was transmitting again. “Legend, I copy—barely. We’re moving. Bones is moving, but barely. Suppression system’s dumping gas, we’re getting lightheaded.”
“Gas is non-toxic, but oxygen levels are being sucked out to kill the fire. Keep moving. You’ve got four minutes tops before you both black out.”
What was I supposed to say to that? Thank you? I wasn’t a damn soldier.
Four minutes.
How much time had we already lost? Bones had gone limp again, and my own legs were trembling like a newborn foal trying to stand for the first time.
“Bones,” I whispered. “Don’t you dare quit on me now.”
Nothing. Just his weight pressing into me.
I pushed forward.
Another corner. Another hallway.
I could see the loading dock now—bright halogen lights stuttering on through the haze. The doors were cracked open, smoke pouring out into the night beyond.
Fresh air. Just a little further.
Another step.
Then another.
And then—O’Rourke emerged from the smoke near the loading bay, dragging a fire ax behind him like he’d just walked out of a war zone.
“You two lovebirds planning on dying dramatically or getting in the damn truck?”
I blinked at him, wheezing too hard to throw a comeback.
Instead, I stumbled the last few feet. “If you can’t help—shut up.”
O’Rourke surprised me then, he dropped the axe and moved right to us. Without hesitation, he hauled Bones away from me and over his shoulders in a fireman carry.
“C’mon, beautiful,” he said over his shoulder as he carried Bones out into the night like a rag doll.
I followed, lungs hitching, head pounding.
The air outside hit me like a fist—cold, fresh, real.
I stumbled, my balance truly wobbling for the first time and I sat down rather than fall when the loading dock seemed ready to rush up to meet me.
In between brutal coughs, the likes of which scraped my throat raw, I sucked in bigger gasps of air.
Oh, it hurt to breathe, but I could breathe.
We made it.
We made it.
O’Rourke was suddenly in front of me again, sans Bones this time, and he slid a hand under my legs and around my back before lifting me. I wanted to demand what the hell he was doing, but I kept coughing.
Ground eating strides carried us along the dock and then down to where a catering truck was parked. There was something about the truck, but my mind seemed almost as blurry as my vision at the moment.
“Give her to me,” Voodoo was just there, he pulled me away from O’Rourke and the tension threading all of my muscles just fell away.
“Get her in here,” Legend said from ahead and then he was there too. I was in the back of the catering truck and there was a mask over my face. The cold, pure air helped. But I was still coughing.
Bones sat, collapsed next to me and the engine was already running. As soon as the rear door slid down with a rasp of metal, we were moving. I shifted to look at Bones, searching for his pulse, breath—something.
He looked even worse in here than he had inside. Blood covered half of his face, but he was still here. With us. Someone had slipped a mask over his face and there was a faint fogging on mouth piece.
“Next time,” I rasped, glancing at the guys as I leaned my head back. Goblin licked my cheek. Oh, he was here too. Good boy.
“Next time?” Voodoo prompted.
Honestly, I didn’t really have it in me to say anything at this point so I just waved it off for now.
“You did good, Firecracker,” Voodoo said, running a hand over my hair before he returned his attention to Bones. AB was probably up front with Legend. The plan had gone exactly as they wanted it too.
And precisely how they’d mapped it out.
Save for one thing.
As I leaned back, I met O’Rourke’s stare where he leaned against the other side of the van. His tie was gone, so was his suit jacket, and blood, soot, and more stained his white shirt.
He just shook his head. “Don’t thank me.”
I pulled the mask away from my face for a moment to say, “I wasn’t planning on it.”
His smirk said he didn’t believe me, but I really didn’t care. Voodoo reached over to secure my oxygen mask again. Hopefully their part of the plan went as well as mine.
Though, I did have a next time thought now as I pulled off my shoes.
Next time I didn’t want to do this in heels.
Behind us, the museum burned.