by William Oday
“No. Please.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s me, Mason. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Help me.”
The words croaked out wet and wheezing. Blood sprayed from her lips.
She held her chest with glistening, crimson hands.
She took a breath and Mason heard the sickening crackle of a sucking chest wound. Blood bubbled up out of her mouth.
Mason had seen similar wounds. Too many. And he’d never seen a soldier walk away from one like this.
The terror in her eyes morphed into confusion.
“Mr. West?”
“Yes, Holly.”
He laid a hand on her shoulder. He didn’t know what to say. She was dying, and he couldn’t stop it.
“Am I hurt, Mr. West?”
He took her hand and kissed it. Warm blood coated his lips.
“You’re going to be fine. Don’t worry. Are you in pain?”
“Kind of. But not really.”
Blood flecked from her lips.
“Good. That means you’re going to make it.”
It didn’t mean anything of the sort. With a wound like that, her brain was overloaded and starting to shut down.
“Holly, listen to me. Where is Theresa?”
“I don’t know. She was here. I’m not sure.”
She glanced at the blood-soaked sheer fabric sticking to her chest.
“I got shot! I’m gonna die! I’m gonna die!”
He brushed the bangs out of her face and kissed her forehead. Her last moments should be peaceful. There was nothing more he could offer.
“You’re not going to die. I’ve seen worse. Don’t worry, you’ll live.”
Her face relaxed and her eyes fluttered. She opened them again and smiled.
“Is it scary, Mr. West?”
“What’s that?”
“Dying. Because I’m scared.”
“Just relax, honey. We’ll get you to the hospital in no time. The ambulance is already on the way.”
There was no ambulance. And a hospital was the last place he’d take an injured person right now anyway.
She turned her cheek into his hand.
“Thank you… thank you.”
Her last words came out as an exhaled breath tinged with syllables.
With final words of appreciation on her lips, Holly died in his hands.
Her family would be crushed. Theresa would be devastated. How would he tell them? He kissed her forehead and left a bloody imprint.
Grief shadowed Mason’s heart. But one emotion crested above all others vying for space in his soul.
Rage.
Rage at the taking of this girl’s life. Rage for what might yet happen to Theresa.
He picked Holly up off the ground, cradling her in his arms. He wasn’t going to leave her on the cold concrete as the warmth bled out of her. He carried her back to the Bronco. Iridia stared with wide eyes.
“Is she dead?”
He passed her door and walked around to the back of the Bronco.
“Tell me she’s not dead!”
Mason flipped the hatch open and dropped the gate.
“Help me spread out this blanket. Now!”
Iridia jumped into the backseat and reached over to help out. With the old blue, emergency blanket spread out, Mason gently lowered Holly’s lifeless body to rest. He pulled the edges over her as well as he could and then closed up the Bronco.
“Stay in the truck.”
“What? Are you insane?” Iridia opened her door and Mason slammed it shut.
“Stay in the truck! Do you want to end up like her?”
The door stayed shut.
“Is she really dead? Tell me I’m not hanging out in a car with a dead body! Not after the night I’ve had! First, it was that scumbag director. I will not say his name. Ever again. Then—”
“Shut up, Iridia!” Mason shouted.
He needed to think for a minute. Theresa was likely in the Milagro Tower. In what condition, he didn’t know. And the process of finding out might leave him in a bad way as well. Either or both of them might need medical attention, at a time when no medical attention was possible.
Except for Beth. She’d sewn him up a few times. And she had extensive care treating animals. She’d have to do.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called his wife.
“Mason? You won’t believe—“
“Honey, sorry. It’s an emergency. I need you home immediately with whatever medical supplies you can gather.”
“What happened? Are you hurt?”
“Not yet.”
“What do you mean? What’s going on?”
“Some gang members have taken our daughter.”
“What? Where’s my baby?”
“I’m going to get her now.”
“Don’t let them hurt my baby! Mason—“
“Elizabeth. Listen to me. Bring whatever supplies you can gather and come home. You may need to treat gunshot wounds, lacerations. I don’t know. But we can’t go to hospitals right now. We need you.”
“What are—“
“I love you so much, honey. I have to go.”
“Don’t let them hurt Theresa!”
“I won’t.”
He ended the call and looked at Iridia, waiting for another idiotic outburst.
“Go save your daughter.”
You never knew how someone would react when it really counted. The toughest badass could break down crying like a baby. The most selfish supermodel could step up and show unexpected compassion.
Mason nodded and headed into danger.
63
Glock again at the low-ready, he bounded back down the street, head swiveling from street to building and back. He crouched past the red Impala and approached the blue lowrider in front. It was riddled with bullet holes. Like an entire fire team had let loose on it. The wailing horn grew louder as he drew near.
The hood was caved in from smashing into the parked Escalade. A man in a suit was squeezed between the two. He had the broad build and crew cut hair that screamed someone in Mason’s business. His lower body a pulverized mess. He sprawled face down across the lowrider’s hood. Blood pooled beneath him and dripped down the sides. The ragged exit wounds on his back told Mason that the car crash didn’t finish him off. Shotgun slugs did.
After clearing the area, he turned toward the building. Several bodies lay still on the pavement. Their fallen weapons at their sides. One guy’s head was pulped. His throat ripped out like a wolf had finished him off.
The muted stink of gunpowder lingered in the air. One hint among plenty that a gun battle had gone down here in the very recent past.
He stepped around the mutilated body and cursed when his foot slipped on the gore. He fell to a knee and his hand squished into… something squishy. Looking away, he wiped the pale, spongy tissue onto the edge of a raised planter. The air reeked from bodies torn apart. He spat to get the filthy taste out of his mouth. It didn’t work. The foul, metallic odor coated his tongue.
He noticed red footprints leading out of the blood. He took a closer look. Size sevens. Not a normal gait. Dragged along at times.
Could be Theresa.
The footprints led to the demolished entrance of the building. The exterior looked like it had taken several mortar rounds.
He crunched over a carpet of shattered glass and through the metal frame of a demolished window pane. He crept forward, sweeping left and right, knowing a threat could appear from anywhere. His daughter could be anywhere, too. And he didn’t want to put a bullet in her if she popped out from behind a corner.
Mason followed the blood trail to a security booth and found it unoccupied. The papers on the desk thrown everywhere. He cast about and picked up the trail and followed it to the elevators. Three elevators on each side. He found a print in front of one and saw that the button had a red smear on it as well.
Still on their track. He wiped the button and smeared i
n a new pattern.
Not far behind either.
He punched it and waited to the side as the doors opened. A puff of light smoke billowed out. He sliced the pie and cleared the interior. Another smudge on the button for the 55th floor. He took a deep breath as it ascended into the heavens.
He prayed his daughter wasn’t already an angel.
The doors slid open and he exited to find evidence of destruction everywhere. He moved down the hall, Glock covering the doorways as he passed. Through a metal door at the end and into a stairwell.
Evidence of a gunfight was everywhere. Spent shell casings on the floor. The concrete walls chipped and scored.
And then there was the body. A short gangbanger lay slumped over against the wall. A streak of blood on the wall showing his last fall to the ground. His mouth hung open, revealing a mouth full of gold.
A shot rang out. From somewhere above. A few floors if he guessed right. He rushed up the stairs. Most people didn’t rush toward the sound of gunfire.
Mason wasn’t most people.
64
BETH wrapped the tiny chimp in a thick, cushy towel. She tucked him into her messenger bag. He burrowed into the folds and settled. No doubt he needed rest. He’d had an exhausting start to life.
She grabbed another bag and stuffed it with electrolyte solution. He’d need it for a week or two while his body adjusted to formula. Next, she went to the medical supply cabinet and started grabbing things to treat various wounds. Hopefully not gunshot wounds. She had no experience with that type of injury, and didn’t want to add to her resume working on her family.
Not that she hadn’t worked on some ghastly wounds. She had.
The baboons in particular often ended up with gaping, deep lacerations when the males went after each other. The zoo did its best to separate the troublemakers and head off any scuffles, but a bloody battle could kick off for the most minor transgression. The males’ aggressive attitudes were backed by canine teeth that matched any adult lion.
She doubted a puncture wound made by a tooth looked much like a puncture wound made by a bullet.
But even if the wound wasn’t quite the same, she knew the treatment would be similar. She packed the bag full of heavy dressings, tape, blood-clotting packs, transfusion bags, IV ports, and other things that might come in handy.
Theresa was in danger.
The mother part of her mind butted into the doctor part.
She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t want to believe it. She didn’t have enough information. A coil of worry squirmed in her belly. It twisted tight until she almost doubled over.
Mason would know what to do. If anyone did, he would.
Please God, keep her safe.
Beth hadn’t been on a first name basis with the Almighty since leaving the strict regularity of her parents’ home. But that didn’t slow her down a bit. Once a Catholic, always a Catholic.
She saw her flashlight on the counter and grabbed it. The emergency power had kicked on a while ago, but you never knew. The returned power was a welcome change, but it came too late. Too late to save Jane.
When the lights came on, Diana left. Ostensibly to lead maintenance in the effort to figure out what happened and begin the repairs. She would likely succeed in only irritating the folks in Ralph’s department. Especially since he wasn’t there to buffer the interaction.
Diana had an almost superhuman ability to get under people’s skin. To make subordinates feel inferior in fewer words than it’d normally take to establish that a conversation was taking place.
“You can’t leave with zoo equipment or supplies,” a voice said behind her.
Think of the devil and she appears. Like magic, only not fun. More of a curse.
Beth didn’t pause. She continued filling the bag.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m leaving, just as you requested.”
“You’re not leaving with those supplies.”
Beth snapped the bag shut and grabbed her messenger bag and helmet. She was ready. Geared up for the ride home. She looked around the lab, pausing on the sheet covering the huge form that hours ago was Jane. The chimpanzee she’d raised from an infant.
Now it was an empty body. Devoid of the life she’d loved so much.
A stab of anguish pierced her chest.
She walked to the table and rested her hand on the sheet. The hard ridge of Jane’s skull met her palm. Beth hated leaving her like this. It seemed so heartless. Such an undeserved end.
There simply wasn’t time to do anything more.
Beth leaned down and touched her forehead to the spot on the sheet that covered Jane’s forehead.
I’m so sorry. Your son will be safe with me. I promise.
She walked toward the door, toward Diana blocking it.
Would this be the last time she saw this place? After so many wonderful years. She didn’t have any other dream jobs. She’d lived the only one that mattered.
Diana thumbed on the walkie-talkie. “Ralph, where are you? I told you to meet me in the operating room of the medical wing.”
A voice answered, not from the walkie-talkie, but from the hallway behind her.
“Sorry, Mrs. Richston. Lot of things to deal with right now and everyone else in Security took off after that newscast.”
What newscast? Why would it make them abandon their jobs?
Beth realized she’d been sequestered in the medical wing most of the day.
“They’ll all be looking for jobs tomorrow!” Diana said. “Ralph, Ms. West has medical supplies that belong to the zoo in her bag. She is attempting to steal them.”
Ralph adjusted his pants, adjusting the slight paunch that hung out over his belt. He didn’t move, caught between two people he didn’t want to confront.
“Arrest her!”
“Is that true, Dr. West?”
Beth wasn’t going to lie. She wouldn’t give Diana the satisfaction of judging her.
“Yes. I’m taking them to help people who are hurt.” She really hoped those people didn’t turn out to be her husband or daughter.
Ralph’s eyes went wide and he turned to Diana. His unspoken pleading fell upon deaf ears.
“I don’t care if it’s for the pope. Those supplies are mine and she can’t have them!”
Beth stood quietly waiting for Ralph to choose a side. He wasn’t a bad person and she didn’t relish putting him in the middle.
A mewling cry escaped from inside her messenger bag.
The chimp squealed at exactly the wrong time.
65
Diana’s eyes narrowed, like a hawk spotting prey.
“Where is the monkey?”
“Chimpanzees are apes.”
Diana gave her a look like she was babbling in an alien language.
“In the incubation tank in my office.”
“Liar. Ralph, you will arrest this woman for attempted theft of a priceless corporation asset.”
The gall of this woman. Fury burned Beth’s earlobes. She wanted to punch this ignoramus in the mouth.
“You didn’t care about him one bit earlier.”
“Ralph,” Diana said. Her voice cracked like a whip.
He flinched and moved toward Beth.
She backed away. He wasn’t in good shape, but he was big and there was probably a decent amount of muscle under that pudgy flab. If he was set on stopping her, she wasn’t positive she could do anything about it. Not while also protecting a fragile, hours-old chimp in her messenger bag.
“Now, I don’t want any trouble, Dr. West,” he said as he held his left hand up. His right hand reached down to his belt and grabbed a large can of pepper spray. “Please turn over the animal and we can avoid any problems.”
“Stay away from me. I’m warning you.”
That made him pause. He looked her over, clearly nervous that maybe she had a hidden weapon he hadn’t seen. His eyes narrowed and he continued forward.
“Keep all the
bandages and stuff,” he said. “I’ll take the heat. But you can’t leave with an animal that belongs to the zoo.”
“I’ll give him back when you tell me what happened to the rest of the Bili chimps.”
“What are you talking about?” Diana said. “They were transferred, as you already know.”
“Then why can’t I contact a single one of the zoos that supposedly received them?”
“That is none of my concern.”
“They never went to any zoo, and you know it. So, where did they end up?”
Diana’s fierce demeanor wavered.
“Don’t try to hide your criminality with wild accusations. Give me the monkey!”
“If it wasn’t for me, this chimp would be dead!”
“You recovered a corporate asset,” Diana said. “Nothing more. And you destroyed another asset in the process.”
“Jane might’ve made it if not for all your cost-cutting nonsense. Your relentless devotion to the bottom line has endangered the lives of animals and employees.”
Diana’s nostrils flared and her teeth clenched tight.
“Give it to me, Elizabeth.”
Beth backed up, knowing she’d be cornered soon and probably on the ground hacking and coughing with that pepper spray in her eyes and mouth. She looked behind and saw no way out.
And then she found one.
The tranq rifle.
It was leaned up in the corner. On any normal day, that breach of safety protocol would have been enough to get someone chewed out.
But what did she care?
This wasn’t a normal day, and she was already fired.
She lunged for the rifle and seated the buttstock in the hollow of her shoulder. The long black barrel pointed directly at Ralph’s chest.
“There’s enough Etorphine in this dart to kill a hundred humans. I’ll shoot you if I have to.”
She knew there was no dart in it. But they didn’t. She was threatening a man’s life. A man she knew well, and who had helped her that very morning.
What was she doing?
Ralph froze. A dark spot blossomed on his pant leg and a puddle of urine spilled onto the floor at his feet.
“You’ll go to prison for this!” Diana shrieked.