by A. R. Shaw
Death…she thought…it reaches for you…not the other way around. And she delivered Cal to its fatal grip.
32
Kim
“Hey, you have smokes?” she said in a high girly voice that was not her own.
The man pumping his gas stood there in the cast of the orange fluorescent lights, his gray slacks billowed below the waist where he pushed out his pocket and clinked the change within. He eyed her and said, “Isn’t there enough smoke out here for yah?” Then he let out a loud cackle. His one blue eye looked her up and down. She always thought the paleness of his blue one was a striking contrast to his dark skin. His caramel voice said, “You need a ride, sweetheart?”
“Nah,” she said, tilting her head to the side, and lowered the sunglasses, even though it was dark out, smiling. He would get it soon.
“Hey, it’s…you?” And just like that he straightened up then, pulling his hand from his pocket instantly. He obviously realized then she was back. He pulled the nozzle from the tank and hung it up with a clunk even before the tank was full. A few drops spilled to the ground, soaking into the broken concrete. Without another word, the man dropped his cigarette and spun his toe on it as he made his way to the driver’s side as if there was suddenly an emergency to run off to.
“Tell him I’m ba…ck.”
He took another quick glance in her direction then sped away and disappeared.
She took the hat off, letting her blond hair fall down, and said, “Good…he’ll know I’m here soon.”
From there Kim walked on toward the firelight in the distance. The Magnificent Mile was lit up on one end like a Roman candle tonight.
“Ha-ha,” Kim chuckled to herself as she headed toward the flames. “This time he’ll learn.”
33
Dane
“Tuck?”
A shake of her head. “He’s down there. Cal…”
“Did he…shove him? Are you okay?”
“I…couldn’t hold him. I can’t…I’m okay.”
“It’s all right. You can tell me later. Let’s go.”
For a few stunned seconds they stood still, despite burning debris falling from above. “We’ve got to get out of here. Dane, let me help.”
Swiping her hand at him, she stepped away. “I don’t need your help, Matthew. I just…wanted to make sure he’s…gone.”
He stepped closer to the edge. Gazed down. The delayed response was in a lower tone, a kinder one.
“He’s gone, Dane. There’s no doubt. If he’s not…the fire will take what’s left of him soon.”
“Cal’s dead, too.”
“He’s got to be. Dammit,” he yelled louder when another chunk of burning debris landed on Dane’s boots. He kicked it away. “Let’s go.”
She couldn’t help but try to look over the precarious ledge. The ground gave a little with her weight and the immense heat rose up in a flash against her face. Cal lay down there, too close to Tuck’s body. It wasn’t right in her mind. Cal shouldn’t be anywhere near Tuck. A blinking light caught her eye and she realized it was Cal’s ankle bracelet. His leg twisted in the wrong direction as his left arm and chest were already ablaze with the encroaching fire. Sparks flew from nearby hanging wires. Her eyes traveled to the other body down there when Matthew said, “Come on, Dane.”
Pulling herself away, she realized what her last vision of both men would always be. The best and the worst of men. One just like her wonderful father in so many ways. The other exposed by a blinking light. A testament to the twisted soul he once was. And the world was rid of them.
“I killed them. Both of them.”
“You’re in shock.” Matthew gave her another tug, but she stopped before leaving. She’d lost her Pulaski somewhere along the way. His, Cal’s, was lying there on the ground. Once a tool, a savior, then an abandoned weapon. She stopped. Picked it up.
They made their way out of the destroyed building.
Their path was blocked by sparking wires and the unbidden blaze. Dane used the long end of the axe handle and made room for Matthew to get through. But once they made it to the stairs, her breath suddenly worked overtime.
“The stairs…I don’t know if we’ll make it.”
Matthew looked back the way they came. “We have to. There’s no other way out. We don’t have time. Jump—you can do it.”
“Yeah, I know I can do it, but how are you going to…”
“Dane, just go.” Matthew kicked her on the back of the calf and she leapt over the empty abyss where a burning void lay below. She landed and turned back to find Matthew barreling into her as he followed.
They were so close to the exit, when an entire burning beam crashed down before them. Dane suddenly covered her face reflexively from flying sparks.
Without wasting precious time, they ran out through the shattered glass doors.
“This way, hurry,” shouted a medical unit. “We’re ordered to evacuate the area. No exceptions. Are there any other survivors in the building?”
Before Matthew answered, Dane shouted, “No!”
Through the man’s respirator, he asked, “Are you sure? A team ran out earlier and said there were four more still inside.”
“We’re sure,” Dane repeated. “They didn’t make it. Floor collapsed.” For Dane…it was a conscious decision to take that explanation away from Matthew. Their deaths were her crime. He had nothing to do with it.
Matthew remained silent as a medical team rushed past them, forcing air into someone dressed in a singed fireman’s uniform, and they too loaded into emergency vehicles. She sat on the hard metal bench, landed the Pulaski head down beside her and leaned the handle against her leg. Matthew sat next to her with just enough space between them. They watched the burning scenery rush by. Matthew asked after a time, “Are you okay?”
The driver had the radio on, broadcasting the local news, the intermittent pauses catching incoming dispatches.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” She felt him watch her profile while she stared into the carnage through the windows beyond him. “I think you made it just in time. Thank you for that.”
“God, don’t thank me. You seem a little too calm for what just happened. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Nodding was her only response as she continued to zone out at the orange blur through the windows. The soothing drone of a reporter’s voice stated the weather and how the wind might change enough to affect visibility in the coming days. A flash of the terror in Tuck’s eyes before he resigned to his fate, of Cal’s when he scrambled at thin air, of her father’s when she ran to his side… All three deaths with fire all around them and she the witness to their endings.
“I’m not sure where the others are. Owen’s at the hospital for sure. We’re going to have to regroup and see what they want to do with us now…I’m sure it’s back to Missoula. We need some down time. Fine with me…I don’t like it here. Dane? Did you hear me?”
She did, but her focus was on the radio station. The news broke and a commercial announced with a catchy jingle, “Introducing our newest all-natural flavor, fizzy Gin and Tonic, from your trusted source, Rebel Blaze Powdered Cocktails, made pure. Drink responsibly.” Her hand instinctively patted the familiar oblong lumps in her pants cargo pocket. The skinny tubes of powder. She was thirsty. She needed water.
“I did. I heard you. I’m just thinking. Matt…they’re going to ask you to take up Tuck’s position. You should jump at it. No one can lead the others but you.”
Matthew’s company was almost bearable now. That was something new to her. She wasn’t sure what that meant but his presence would never matter. She had other plans. She wasn’t leaving Chicago anytime soon. Only he didn’t know that yet.
She’d taken off the new respirator the paramedic handed her after realizing they were well out of danger and merely stuck in traffic at this point. The vehicles inched along with horns blaring futilely all around them. Even at the end…these people still insisted on their rights to get thro
ugh traffic without a fight. It was insanity to Dane. The arrogance of man.
As she wiped sweaty wisps of hair stuck to the sides of her face, Matthew took his own mask off as well.
“Others? You say that like you’re not going to be around or something.”
She gave him a quick sidelong glance. “I…think I’m going to need a break. Especially after what happened. Maybe take a week or so. I…can’t believe he’s gone, Matt.”
“What happened with Tuck? How did it happen?”
With one hard glance at Matthew, she shook her head but told him anyway. “I heard yelling. I…got there. I thought he’d fallen. I actually thought it was an accident. Cal stood over him. Holding him over the ledge. I grabbed hold. Cal let go and then disappeared. I didn’t realize… He tried to warn me.” Her eyes zoned out again. Tuck, resigned to his fate, pushed himself away from her tenuous embrace and into the flames below. She now realized it was a sacrifice. “He gave me a chance.”
Matthew didn’t say anything at first, just tilted his head to the side and then finally reached for her, at first only rubbing his hand against her back. She leaned into him, let him embrace her. “Hey…that was a lot to handle back there,” he whispered next to her ear. “I’m sure you’re right. You’re going to need time to process this and I’m sure there’re going to be questions back home. They’ll need statements. You can join us as soon as you’re ready to come back.”
Shaking her head quickly as she pulled away, she said, “The only statement I’m going to give is that they died on duty. The floor gave way. No one needs to know more. I found them that way.”
He nodded. “Probably for the best.”
“No one’s going to care, Matthew…look at the world.”
He was about to say something else, perhaps argue the authorities would want to know more about Cal’s death. He came from an influential family or Cal would never have been returned to them. They were worried about revenge. They all had a motive after Rebecca’s attack.
When the driver’s fist pounded on the back of the metal partition he said in the local accent, “Hey. We’re pulling in. Don’t leave any crap back there. I have another run.”
“I guess we weren’t the last ones out, huh?” Matthew said.
“Not by a long shot. Gonna be a long night.”
After they retrieved their belongings, Matthew told the driver, “Hey, thank you for doing this. We know you don’t have to keep going back in there.”
The driver took a long look at the two of them. “I’m no martyr, man…look at yourselves.”
“Still, an occasional thank you is nice.”
“Back at yah!”
They watched as the driver drove away and then Dane asked, “Why’d you say that to him?”
Matthew chuckled a little. “What’s wrong with calling people out, and their honor?”
“It’s just weird, Matthew. Makes people uncomfortable. And calling people out…is a term typically used for a something they’ve done wrong…not right.”
“That’s just the way I roll.”
“Don’t say that either.”
They walked into the waiting room of the hospital. A few familiar eyes landed on them but not Owen’s. Many were missing but those few lit up in contrast to their soot-covered faces.
“Where’ve you guys been? Where’s Tuck?” the one named Craig said with his hands on his narrow hips, his shoulders hiked up to near his jawline. He looked like he was about to explode.
Dane swallowed hard. Her throat was so dry. She shook her head and looked down.
“What does that mean?” he said in a raised tone and took a step toward Dane.
Matthew’s heavy hand shot out, catching Craig by the shoulder. “Hey, no. We’re not doing that.”
“We need some answers. Are you saying he’s dead or just missing?”
With his hand still on Craig’s shoulder, Matthew said in a calm tone, “I’m saying Tuck and Cal are both dead. We found them that way. After you guys left, I don’t know, they must have stayed. Dane heard yells for help. It looked like the floor collapsed and they both fell in.”
“Shit,” Craig said, running a hand through his oily hair. “Look, um, we’ve got two in critical. They want to hold Owen overnight; he should be fine in the morning, and the rest of us are fine for the most part. Scrapes, bruises, burns…nothing major. Stunned as hell. Why the hell were we even in there? Why were we trying to save…that?”
“Optics, more than anything, I think. What’s left of the government wants to show that someone is actually in charge. Hey look…we’re all a little stunned. Let me check with the staff on the two in critical and Owen, then the rest of us are going to the hotel. We need clean up, sleep and regroup.”
“I just want to leave. Go to the airport and get the hell out of this place, now.”
“I know, buddy. Hang on. It’s been a rough day for all of us. I’m going to check on the others. I’ll be right back. Then we’ll get out of here.”
He walked away when Craig said, “Dane, I’m sorry. I’m upset. You should have seen what happened.”
“It’s okay. We’re all shaken. Hey, do you guys have any water? I’m dying here.”
“Yeah…back here. They keep handing them out. Take a couple.”
“Good idea. Thanks.”
34
Kim
An antique picture frame dangled from his left hand. She’d seen the man run back up the museum’s concrete steps and crouch behind the large stone planter like a city rat.
She stopped to offer her opinion. “If you just walk out like yah own the piece, no one ought to stop you. But you actin’ guilty, see? That’ll get you caught. A man don’t hide if he ain’t done nothing wrong.”
“What do you care?” The tall lean black man was skinny as a pencil. “I’m not stealing this…my grandfather painted it…I’m savin’ it.”
“What-ever,” Kim said and took another toke off her lit cigarette and walked on toward the burning inferno ahead. Another man ran off with another painting and two more carried a heavy stone bust from some long-ago icon that no one cared about anymore across the four-lane road as if they were transporting a pretty heavy couch. Their black silhouettes ran across the street against orange flames like fleeing rats from the sewers. It was quite a sight.
Kim put her palms to the darkened sky and blew out a stream of smoke. There was no one there to save art from thieves. The limited emergency crews were too focused on the buildings where all the money was. Perhaps the thieves were saving the art after all. No one else was there to do anything about the eminent demise of the world’s treasures.
It wasn’t too much farther now. The place she was headed was only a few blocks away. Already she saw the car from the blue-eyed man she spoke to earlier. His name was Samuel, Sammy for short. Somehow the name never suited him. Not even when he was a kid. Sammy was the name of a sweet, bright-eyed boy, not this guy. Saul, perhaps, or Clyde. One of those would suit better. Something that sounded more like the sloppy sidekick of a gangster. That’s what he was, after all, when you stripped it down to its essence. There was nothing redeemable about Sammy the snitch. “Hmm…” she chuckled and took another toke off her smoke as she walked, squinting her eyes from all the incessant smolder, and thought that was a perfect name for him after all. “Sammy the Snitch. Few are cleverer than I.” She smiled and kept walking.
Then the distinctive sound of a gun clicked behind her and a familiar voice said, “The truth is, I never loved you.”
She didn’t turn around. She only raised her hands. The cigarette hung from her lips. Its burning tip glowed brightly as she took another puff, blew out the burn, and then smiled and shook her head.
“Stop laughing,” he said.
“You were only an experiment.”
“Stop coming back, Kim.”
“I’ll get what I want, with or without you.” She dropped the cigarette on the sidewalk and slowly turned around to face him.
&n
bsp; “You try, and you’ll die.”
“You can’t really blame me, can you?”
He lowered the gun, released the hammer. “How are the kids?”
She didn’t pause. “They’re at Mother’s.”
“Can I see them this time?”
She sauntered past. “They’re yours, aren’t they?”
35
Dane
Some were barely blue, while others were sort of pink—orange ones too. The subtle lights flashed by. And then…and then, she felt the heat, saw him lying there. At first, she thought the body belonged to Tuck, but then the fires blazed around her. The walls were too close in. No…this wasn’t Tuck. This wasn’t the department store. She’d had this dream before. But it wasn’t a dream in the beginning. It was a memory. One she tried to push away many times before. It was always the same. She was never able to save him. Most of the time, the powder kept the dreams away. Not this time.
Like always, he lay there after she stumbled into the blazing room, screaming his name. “Father!” The ripping pain she felt, the streaming river of blood trickling down the insides of her legs, the busted lip, discarded in an instant. The moment she discovered the body, she knelt by his side. His chest rose barely and fell. Daddy? Things were scattered all over her father’s home lab. Broken glass, scales, papers, a single cigarette butt lay near his head. Dad? His eyes opened in a flash.
Dane jolted and weaved out of a bed.
“Just hold on. You’re dreaming. Dane. Stop!”
“Where…” She shoved off an unfamiliar mattress, found the edge of the bed. Where’s the bathroom? Just darkness. So dizzy. Not the spins. A few steps, she caught her shoulder on the edge of a doorway. Her feet met cold tile. Where the hell was she? Barely any light filtered in through the small window near a sink. It was enough to see where the toilet was. She closed the door. Made sure it was closed tight. Must pee. Grabbing her waistband, she found only the thin hem of her cotton panties…and hell, a t-shirt. Her bra was still on. She didn’t remember undressing herself. She didn’t remember too much after they’d all—all that was left of them— loaded into vehicles and headed back to the Comfort Stay Hotels.