Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
NICK AND I went out the side door and ran to the tree line, careful to avoid stepping in the mess left by Carmen. She’d gone for the men’s torsos, and the custom loads from her favourite Accuracy International sniper rifle had punched through flesh and bone, leaving my terrace looking like a scene from the zombie apocalypse.
That gore would be a nightmare to scrub off the flagstones.
Sticking to the shadows, Nick and I made our way down the driveway. My adrenaline spiked as I thought of what we might find, and cold dread spread through my veins despite my earlier exertions.
Up ahead, the guardhouse was still smoking. Dark, acrid plumes rose into the darkness, and as we got closer, I smelled the unmistakable stench of burning flesh and had a sudden flashback to Black in the taxi. I stopped and heaved, and it was only sheer willpower that stopped me from losing my dinner into the bushes. And that made me even angrier with myself. I’d seen enough horrors that I should have been well past the point of wanting to throw up.
Puking was for amateurs.
Circling the guardhouse, guns drawn, the only sound we heard was a faint hissing as the sprinklers in what was left of the ceiling did their job, the automatic shut off long since destroyed. I swept a torch around the inside. A mess of twisted metal gleamed back at me, tangled amongst broken furniture and sparking electronics. Streams of sooty water trickled along the floor and down the steps, the River Styx reduced to miniature.
In Roman mythology, the Styx separated us from the underworld. Rather than pay Charon, the ferryman, to carry me across, I stepped into the waters of hate, allowing them to seep through my heels and into my soul.
If it was my last act on this earth, Blanco would pay for what he’d done tonight.
I radioed Mack. “Can you release the lock on the bunker from there? The entire control panel’s gone.”
The bunker could also be opened from inside, but I had no idea whether anyone had made it to safety, and if they had, whether they’d be in a fit state to work the catch. But the lock was electronic, on its own protected circuit, so hopefully Mack could help.
“I should be able to. Hang on.” Half a minute passed. “It says it’s unlocked.”
“Great. Can you shut off the electrics down here completely now? There’s water everywhere and some of the panels are throwing off sparks.”
“Two seconds... Done.”
“Want me to go first?” Nick asked from over my left shoulder.
I turned and gave him a look. “I do my own dirty work, Nick. When have I ever asked anyone else to go first? I’m still perfectly capable.”
He backed away, hands in the air in apology. “Sorry, Ems, I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought... Never mind...”
His words trailed off as I stepped gingerly over the threshold, tiptoeing through the debris. The guardhouse had been the old gatekeeper’s lodge, a two-bedroom cottage belonging to the derelict mansion that once occupied my house’s footprint. I’d gutted it, combining the lounge and one of the bedrooms into the main office, with a picture window and door facing onto the driveway. At the back, I’d left the tiny kitchen, bathroom, and second bedroom so the guards had somewhere comfortable to use on their breaks.
And at Black’s behest, the old cellar got turned into a bunker fitted out with emergency supplies and an air filtration system. Back when the plans were drawn up, I’d doubted it would ever be used. Today, I hoped it had.
Nick and I edged towards the hatch in the corner of the main room, the ceiling making ominous creaking noises above us. Jagged shards of plaster hung amongst the remains of the light fittings and sprinkler system. All it needed was for that lot to fall down and this disaster of a day would be complete.
My sense of smell dulled as I poked through the rubble, and I knew that just like after Black’s death, the hideous aroma would stay with me for days. But I couldn’t stop, not when I’d been the one to stir up this hornets’ nest. I stepped over a broken chair and continued with the search.
Half buried under a collapsed table, I found... Well, I didn’t know who it was. He was so badly burned, it was difficult to tell. His limbs were drawn up in the pugilistic position typical of fire victims, his hands clutching desperately at nothing. Breathe, Emmy. Just breathe . I gritted my teeth, motioned at Nick to step around the side of the body, and carried on. We were still missing one man.
Nick helped me to heave a battered filing cabinet off the hatch, then he bent and lifted it back. Inky blackness gaped up at us. I shone my torch into the hole, and the light revealed a crumpled form lying motionless on its side at the bottom of the ladder. Uh oh, this didn’t look good. Nick lit the way as I shinned down. Whoever it was wasn’t moving, and before I got halfway, I could make out the blackened, blistered skin stretched over his torso.
“Is he breathing?” Nick called.
“Hang on.”
I knelt next to the body and put my cheek under his nostrils. A faint trickle of air whispered over me, accompanied by a groan.
“Yes, he is, but shallow. He needs medical attention yesterday.”
Now I was closer, I recognised Seth, which meant it was Mick whose life had been stolen.
Son of a bee sting.
Sometimes, I wondered what my purpose in life was, but that night I knew. I was the angel of death who would send Blanco to the underworld, and I’d have a smile on my face while I did it.
But that plan had to wait. Instead, I got on the radio. “Mack, we need an ambulance. What’s the situation at the house?”
“Still ongoing. The fire’s out, and I’ve shut the sprinklers off.”
“Get the ambulance on its way and tell them to hang back until we confirm it’s safe. Same with the police, because undoubtedly they’re going to turn up at some point.”
“Calling them now.”
“Is there anyone free who could run down here with a first aid kit, an extraction pack, and a spinal board?”
“Evan’s on his way. How are they?”
“Mick’s dead, and Seth’s going to be if he doesn’t get to a hospital fast. We could do with some extra manpower too.”
“Oh my gosh.” She paused to compose herself. “Mick was a good guy. There’s one left alive up here, and Alex is dealing with him. I’ll send who I can.”
I blocked whatever Alex might be doing from my mind and returned to the problem in front of me. Alex was well capable of looking after himself.
From their positions, it looked as if Seth and Mick had been trying to get into the bunker when the blast happened. When Seth got halfway in, the grenade came and he got blown the seven feet to the bottom of the ladder as the hatch flipped shut behind him. Unfortunately, Mick hadn’t been so lucky, if you could call Seth’s state lucky.
“Hurry up, Evan,” I whispered as Seth groaned again.
There wasn’t much I could do until help arrived except talk to him, hoping my voice registered. Hearing was always the last sense to go when a person slipped into unconsciousness. Maybe my words would make it through?
Nick stayed up top, checking the rest of the building. “Ceiling’s not looking good.”
Tell me something I don’t know.
Evan must have sprinted because the first aid kit arrived in my hands sooner than I expected. Our first aid kits weren’t the type of thing you’d buy in the local pharmacy. We kept half a hospital on hand, good for everything up to minor surgery.
I may not have been a doctor, but along with Nick and everyone else on Blackwood’s core team, I’d undergone extensive training in how to deal with trauma. Sad to say, I’d had a reasonable amount of practical experience over the years too. While we waited for the professionals to arrive, we gave Seth oxygen, fluids, and pain relief then manoeuvred him onto the spinal board.
“How’s he doing?” a voice asked from over my shoulder. Nate had arrived with Logan in tow.
“Not good. We need to get him outside.”
With four of us helping, we made short work of lifting Seth out of the bunker, through the guardhouse, and into the cool night air. I was checking his pulse again when Mack radioed through.
“I’ve given the emergency services the all-clear. Two minutes for the ambulance.”
Right, time to sort out the story with Nate, because the police wouldn’t be far behind.
“We don’t know who these guys were, okay? Throw in some speculation. It could be something to do with Black’s murder, maybe something at work, or just a home invasion. The sniper must have been one of theirs, getting confused.”
“That works,” he agreed. “No sense in dragging Carmen into it. Also, when I shot visitor número uno upstairs, I did it with his buddy’s gun then put it back in the hands of the dead guy, so I guess there was a lot of confusion going on.”
“I’ll call a few people, get some different agencies involved. They can fight among themselves.”
“Good plan. I don’t want to get tied up for days answering questions. I take it we’re allowed to look for Mr. Blanco now, after this?”
Too darn freaking right we were. I paused and looked Nate in the eye. He had a secret love of Shakespeare, so I thought it appropriate to quote Hamlet.
“The readiness is all.”
He gave me a nod. “You’ve made the right decision.”
“Nobody comes into my house like that and lives to tell the tale. I mean, did you see the state of the kitchen?”
“You’re gonna need it remodelled again. The kitchen woman’s gonna have a heart attack. Oh, and speaking of heart attacks, Alex had one left alive, but the guy must’ve had a dodgy ticker because when Alex started twisting his arm, he just keeled over, retched a bit, then died.”
“Shiznits. I wanted the chance to speak with him. And by speak, I mean burn his skin off with a blowtorch, an inch at a time. It’s drugs that caused all this, though. That much I’m sure of.”
“How do you know?”
“Blanco called me again, just before the attack. That’s why I sent the alert to everyone. He told me I’d ignored his last warning, and all I’ve been working on this week is that bad coke thing. Plus it was an old case of Black’s, so it fits.”
“Yeah, it does.” Nate turned his head as sirens sounded close by. “I’ll get everyone working that angle as soon as we get free of the police. By the way, they caught a pair outside Blackwood. Hired in, not from the same team as that lot.” He jerked his thumb back towards the house. “The night shift guys questioned them before the cops picked them up. They were just a couple of kids from a local gang, said some dude paid them five thousand bucks to spray a car with bullets at a certain time, only no car came because you stopped that.”
“Mick’s blood’s still on my hands. And Seth’s too if that ambulance doesn’t get here soon. What’s the hold-up?”
As if on cue, the ambulance rolled slowly through the gateway.
“Don’t hurry yourselves, will you?” I muttered under my breath.
The medics jumped out and strode towards us. My team picked up Seth, strapped onto his board, and I grabbed the drip and oxygen bottle.
“What are you waiting for? Christmas?” I growled at the medics, who seemed more interested in the smoking remains of my home. “Just open the flipping doors.”
They scurried to the back of the ambulance, and we carried Seth inside, securing him to the stretcher. The pair of them took over for an assessment, although there wasn’t a lot they could do that we hadn’t already done.
“Is anyone coming to the hospital with this man?” the taller of them asked.
“Yeah, me.”
Nick decided he was joining us and climbed in the back too. As the ambulance sped into the night, I gripped his hand, my dark thoughts brightened only by the fire inside me.