Chapter 39
The explosion threw Cara against the wall.
Heat rolled over her in a wave, searing her exposed skin. Her ears rang so loud she could barely hear Gabe calling her name from somewhere she couldn't see.
Darkness swallowed everything except the faint glow of emergency lights cutting through thickening smoke. She coughed, tasting concrete gritty between her teeth. The air smelled wrong—burning insulation, melted plastic, something chemical and acrid that made her eyes water.
"Cara!" Gabe's voice sounded distant, muffled by the ringing.
She tried to move toward him, but the stairwell had split apart. A gap at least three feet wide separated them, with rubble piled high between. The floor on her side had buckled downward while his section remained higher, creating an impossible divide.
She shouted back through another cough. "I'm okay! Go. Get David."
Wade's voice joined Gabe's, both of them calling for her, but another tremor ran through the structure and drowned out their words. The station groaned like a dying animal, metal shrieking as support beams twisted. The floor vibrated under her feet with each secondary blast deeper below.
This whole place was coming down.
She wiped her eyes and blinked hard, trying to focus through the haze.
Emergency lights flickered, but during the flashes, she caught them: Hank Brewer hauling David down the interior stairwell toward the back of the station.
Both men looked like gray ghosts, covered head to toe in concrete powder.
Brewer spat and coughed violently, never loosening his grip on David's arm.
Blood ran down David's face from a cut at his hairline, dripping into his eye.
He blinked it away, stumbling as Brewer yanked him forward.
Their footsteps left disturbed trails in the gray coating the steps.
Cara looked back toward where Gabe's voice had come from. He and Wade were trying to reach her, but debris kept falling between them. Brewer disappeared with David into the haze.
She opened her mouth to shout, but another blast shook the station. The landing above her split wider, and chunks of concrete rained down.
By the time she could breathe again, Brewer and David were almost out of sight.
The smart play was to call for help. She should wait for Gabe and Wade, or the coming first responders. But Brewer was getting away with David, and backup wouldn't arrive in time.
If she didn't move now, she'd lose them both.
She wove through the wreckage, staying low and using what cover she could. The floor was sticky underfoot—spilled chemicals or water from burst pipes, she didn't want to know which. Heat intensified as she moved, fires spreading somewhere below. Each breath came harder than the last.
Metal groaned overhead. Emergency lights swung on damaged fixtures, casting wild shadows across the destruction. Brewer was armed. She'd need a weapon.
Twenty feet ahead, a fire extinguisher hung crooked on the wall, one mounting bracket broken. Red paint chipped and faded. She grabbed it, feeling the weight settle into her hands—ten pounds, maybe fifteen. The cold cylinder pressed against her palms.
The irony wasn't lost on her.
She followed Brewer down the corridor, keeping twenty feet back and using debris as cover. Silent steps learned from years of moving through spaces unnoticed.
David wasn't resisting much, too exhausted and hurt.
Then sirens wailed in the distance.
Faint at first, then growing louder with each second. Multiple vehicles approaching fast.
Brewer's head jerked up. He heard them too.
A door swung open ahead of them, and Chief Hale emerged from darkness—clean, not covered in powder like everyone else. He'd been down here already, near his escape route, while the station collapsed above.
His rough voice echoed up the stairwell. "Brewer! Down here! Bring him."
The deputy froze. His head swiveled between Hale ahead and the sirens behind, growing louder. Cara could see his panic from here—wide eyes, quick shallow breathing, the calculation playing across his face. He shoved David toward the chief and ran, disappearing into the twisted wreckage.
Hale's scream echoed after him, but Brewer was gone.
Hale cursed viciously and grabbed David roughly, jamming his gun into David's ribs. He dragged the injured man through the unmarked door into darkness below.
Cara waited, counting heartbeats, until the door started to swing closed. Then she moved.
Down the steps. Through the doorway. Into basement darkness while the station collapsed behind her.