Chapter 19
FRANKIE
Frankie ran flat out, lungs burning, legs pumping. The whole damn rig was shuddering, trying to knock them both ass over. All around her, the rig groaned like every weld she’d ever laid was screaming at her for betraying them.
A deafening crack thundered in the tunnel. Three feet ahead, a ceiling pipe burst open. She skidded to a halt as a white-hot blast of steam tore across the corridor that would’ve peeled her skin straight to the bone.
“Shit! Turn back!” she yelled, spinning to Stone.
He looked wrecked. Not from running or the chaos. His pain came from the silence in his ear. He’d been calling his team non-stop, and his voice frayed more with every try. The silence was crushing him.
The robotic voice continued to issue a warning. “Come on!” She slapped Stone’s chest and took the lead again, backtracking fast.
Their boots pounded over trembling steel. She scanned ahead for stress lines, warps, fractures, anything to indicate that the structure was seconds from giving out.
Shit! I can smell smoke.
That rocketed their need to exit to right the fuck now.
The place was coming apart faster than she’d calculated, and that pissed her off.
She had no doubt that her dad’s plan would decimate the rig, but she hadn’t expected it to rupture this fast. She should’ve accounted for secondary load transfers. Should’ve anticipated how cascading failures would rip through the structure like dominoes on fire.
She should’ve planned for the worst, like she did with every goddamned weld.
“This way!” she shouted, cutting left into a maintenance alley.
Her dad’s notes flashed through her mind:
Once the load path is compromised, the whole structure crumbles. But it won’t fall clean like the legs have been chopped off. It will fold in waves. And you won’t know where the next tsunami is coming from. There’s beauty in that.
Yeah. Real beauty, Dad.
The uncertainty scared the hell out of her.
She could handle fire. Could handle getting shot at, but this was chaos. If she picked the wrong path or misread a buckling strut, a warped beam, or a stressed joint, a billion-ton oil rig would come down on their heads.
Game over for her and Stone, his team, and anyone else still on the rig.
The deck shuddered, and Frankie slammed into a railing, stopping just before a support beam gave way and crashed down in front of them with a thunderous boom. The sound was pure horror, like steel shearing away bone.
The alley bucked like a bronco. Walls screamed. Debris rained down in hot, jagged chunks.
Her jaw dropped. “Shit, Stone! We can’t go this way. It’s too unstable!”
Spinning back, she shouldered past him and sprinted to the end of the alley. She pointed down to a lower catwalk. “We drop there, cut through the pump corridor, and rejoin the main spine near the subdeck stairwell!”
“Copy that,” Stone said, gripping his gun like it was made of gold.
They hadn’t seen a soul since they had left his team behind.
Where the hell was everyone? Had they already made it out?
And what about the bastards in the server farm? Had they found the manual override?
“Evacuate immediately.”
We’re trying, goddammit.
Sirens howled, and red lights strobed. Somewhere behind them, a bulkhead tore open with a sound like a thunderclap from hell.
“Jesus,” Stone shouted. “How much farther?”
Frankie didn’t answer. She was too busy mapping the rig in her head and working through every exit path she knew.
The place was a maze for sadists on a good day, and now the whole thing was twisting in on itself.
Corridors collapsing. Ladders warping like they were made of rubber.
Flames popping up like weeds in wet season.
She’d already tried six exit points, but they were blocked or too risky. Or just gone.
She clenched her jaw.
I caused this.
I could kill us both.
No. We’re getting out.
Ignoring the fire in her lungs, Frankie pushed harder. A bolt of pain ripped through her ankle, and she staggered.
Shit, I forgot about the injury. No fucking time for that. Get moving!
Biting down on her pain, she pushed on. Stone was right behind her, still yelling into his comms, still worried as hell.
They finally reached the corridor below the control room. She skidded to a halt.
The ceiling had collapsed, and a snarl of twisted struts and crushed paneling blocked the path. Fire blazed through the wreckage, belching smoke.
“Shit,” she breathed. “That was our way out.”
Stone took her hand, squeezing it tightly. “Then find us another one. Think!”
“I am!” She scraped her fingers through her hair.
The blocked corridor loomed in front like a blazing monster. Fire chewed through twisted walls. Black smoke poured from vents. The whole rig was groaning, shifting, like it was trying to break every damn bolt before collapsing completely.
Frankie stared at the wreckage, and her brain stalled. She couldn’t see a way through. Couldn’t see a route around. Every exit she knew was gone. Her ankle throbbed. Her lungs burned. Her hands shook.
I caused this. I decimated my own rig.
I’m the reason his team is silent.
It’s my fault we’re trapped here. Stone doesn’t deserve this.
And now I’m going to get him killed, too.
Her throat squeezed like she was being strangled. The roar of the rig faded, replaced by the rush of blood in her ears. Her vision narrowed. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.
“Frankie.” Stone’s voice broke through her fog like a pry bar.
She couldn’t answer.
“Hey. Look at me.” He pressed a steady hand on her shoulder, warm and real.
She blinked, then turned to look up at him. His face was soot-streaked, his eyes sharp and impossibly calm despite the world falling apart around them.
“You’re okay,” he said. “Just breathe.”
She followed his lead. One breath. Then another.
“Again,” he said. “In through your nose. Out through your mouth.”
Every shaky breath stung like hell.
“That’s it. You’re doing great. Just calm down.”
The world didn’t stop collapsing, but the edges of chaos stopped eating her alive.
“You’ve got this,” Stone said. “You know this rig better than anyone. Frankie, you can get us out of here. I trust you.”
She clenched her trembling hands into fists. Her throat clammed up. “I can’t see a way. Every path’s blocked.”
“Then we make one.”
She shook her head, blinking smoke from her eyes, heart kicking like a trapped animal.
“Frankie.” He cupped her cheek, pivoting her face so she had to look at him. “You don’t have to do this alone. Just tell me what you need.”
His expression held no panic or pity. He held a rock-solid belief in her.
She swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe. Forcing her brain back online.
“Okay,” she said, voice steadier. “I have an idea. The equipment cage. But it will take us down, not up.”
“Then that’s the plan.”
“But down could be worse than here.”
“Then we figure it out when we get there.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Let’s move.”
They sprinted side by side, boots hammering across a shuddering platform. The rig was out of control: groaning struts, bursting pipes, the shrill, piercing sound of metal straining under pressure.
Rounding a bend, Frankie pointed toward the southern corner. “There. Equipment cage.”
It hung crooked and rust-streaked, barely the size of a double fridge, wobbling like a hooked fish. The cage had no safety latches and no rails.
“Okay,” Stone said. “I’m good with that.”
“Hopefully, the cables aren’t stretched. Or worse, fucking severed. Or we’re going straight to the bottom of the ocean.”
Stone grinned. “What a way to go, huh?”
She didn’t smile. “It’s not on my bucket list.”
With every second they ran, the heat became more unbearable. The thick black smoke was toxic enough to choke them. Sparks spat from ruptured walls. Whole sections of the corridor were gutted by fire or had collapsed.
Her rig wasn’t just dying. It was disintegrating.
They reached a grated platform that skirted the inner south wall, and Frankie led Stone along a metal walkway she’d used hundreds of times before.
She skidded to a stop. “Oh, fuck.”
The entire section ahead was gone. Just empty air where steel should’ve been. Severed bolts jutted from the wall like broken teeth. Whatever had hit the walkway had torn the metal clean away.
“That was the only way.” Her voice was hoarse.
She stared at the gap, chest heaving, heart hammering. Behind them, an explosion punched through the rig—deep, heavy, and so fucking final it ripped through her sanity. The floor shuddered hard, like it was warning them to get the fuck out of there.
She turned to Stone. “What do we do?”
Stone let out a sound that was half growl, half rage. He gripped the railing and scanned the void beyond.
“What if we jump down there?” He pointed below.
Frankie followed his gaze to the rig’s main crane. The arm hung in the center of the chasm, swaying wildly like a drunken boxer. Mid arc, it lurched close enough to be tempting, but far enough to be absolutely fucking insane.
“Jesus,” she gasped. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Completely. We get on that, then drop to the lower landing.” He pointed. “From there, we climb back up to the equipment cage.”
He turned to her with a grin.
She fought a grin of her own. “Oh man. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“I’m enjoying you.” He cupped her cheeks and gave her a quick kiss. He pulled back and tapped her ass. “We can do this.”
She let out a short laugh. “You pick the best moments, Stone.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to make a memory. You ready?”
“No,” she said, rolling her eyes at him, then gripped the railing. “I just hope this is a good memory.”
Working in sync, they climbed onto the outside of the railing. The heat was blistering. Smoke curled around them in thick, choking waves.
“When the crane swings back this way,” Stone shouted, “we jump together. Okay?”
“Got it.” She drew in a breath, then another. Her lungs burned.
The rig roared around them, flames eating through steel. Sparks rained from ruptured pipes. The whole place was coming apart. Her second home for nearly twenty years was imploding.
What have I done?
“Here it comes!” Stone shouted, pointing at the crane with his gun.
Frankie braced with everything she had. Her heart thundered in her chest, loud enough to drown out the groaning metal around them. The crane boom swung toward them damn fast.
“Jump!”
They launched together.
Heat clawed at her skin, and a scream tore from her throat as she flew through the smoke-choked air.
She slammed into the beam hard, the impact rattling her bones.
Her fingers found a metal rung and latched on, but as her boot hit a cross-panel, pain shot through her injured ankle like fire. Her grip faltered. Her feet slipped.
She screamed as the world dropped out from under her.
Stone’s hand shot out and caught her wrist in a crushing grip and his gun slipped from the other hand and vanished into the smoke below. “I got you!” he roared over the chaos.
Her body dangled in open air, legs kicking as the crane swayed violently beneath them. It lurched through a full arc, the entire boom groaning with the weight and momentum. The swing jolted them sideways, and her legs flicked wildly. She screamed again.
Below her, the rig was a fiery hell. Flames devoured shattered platforms. Whole walls had collapsed into smoking wreckage. Debris spiraled downward into the abyss. It didn’t even look like a rig anymore, just a twisted mess.
“Frankie! Frankie, look at me!”
She forced herself to meet his gaze.
Wild desperation carved deep into his face. Sweat streamed down his temples, cutting through soot. His jaw was clenched tight, muscles straining as he held her.
Her heart pounded against her ribs.
“I’m slipping!” Her vision blurred with tears. “Don’t let me die. Please don’t—”
“You’re not dying.” His voice was pure steel. “I’ve got you.”
The crane swung again, going a bit slower, like it was winding down for another pass. It wobbled and shook, and the cables creaked.
Stone grunted, hauling her up inch by inch, his arms shaking with grit. She scrambled with her good foot, kicking at the air, reaching for anything solid.
With a final roar, he yanked her upward, and her foot found purchase. She shoved upward with everything she had and hooked her elbow over a metal crossbeam.
Stone wrapped an arm around her, gripping her tight.
“I got you,” he panted. “I’ve got you.”
She pressed against him, breathing ragged as every limb trembled.
“Fucking hell,” she rasped. “My life just flashed before my eyes.”
Stone gave a crooked grin. “I hope I was in it.”
She let out a shaky laugh. “Shut up. You’re insane.”
“Maybe.” His grin was wild. “Now get ready to jump again.”
The crane hit the end of its arc, bucked hard, then whipped back the other way like a goddamn slingshot.
“Holy shit!” Frankie yelled as they were flung across the gap in a blur of smoke and raining sparks.
“Get ready!” Stone shouted over the chaos. “One. Two. Jump!”
They launched.
Frankie landed hard, and her boot twisted under her. Pain ripped through her ankle like a blade. She collapsed, crashing onto her side with an agonized howl.
Stone was on her, dropping to one knee. “Frankie!”
She gritted her teeth, breath hissing between them. “I’m fine. Just . . . just help me up.”
He hooked an arm around her back and hauled her upright. “We gotta move.”
They hobbled together, half-running, half-limping as the rig groaned around them like it was tearing itself apart. Under their feet, the floor jerked back and forth. Above them, a section of catwalk collapsed in a shower of sparks.
Ahead, the equipment cage swayed like it was barely holding on.
They dove inside and slammed the gate shut. The cage rattled around them.
Frankie yanked open the button panel and hovered her finger over the control.
“You sure about this?” she asked, breathing fast.
“Do it.” Stone didn’t even blink.
This was it. Once she pressed the button, she gave up all control. The cage had two stops: one at the top. One at the bottom. If it still stopped at all.
She met Stone’s gaze. He was steady as ever.
“I hope we don’t regret this,” she muttered.
He pulled her in tight, arms locking around her like he could shield her from everything coming. “Now, Frankie.”
She slammed the button.
The cage dropped like a brick.