“Fire, fire, fire,” she muttered, sweat cascading down her forehead from beneath her mask. It was in her eyes, it was burning, and the wind seemed to be shifting direction, because now she was getting more of the smoke. Holding up the pieces of this building was a burden, threatening to pull her down at any moment. She threw down three more heavy gravity channels using the fire trucks as her anchors to fight against the increased weight as she ripped the flaming segments out of the top floor of the building. She lifted them high, to her, and then looked west, to the river.
“I have … to get rid … of some of this … weight,” she said, unable to even muster the strength to close her mouth when she finished speaking. She anchored the pieces to her and set the channels toward the river, letting them roll west with all the power she could give them, which wasn’t much. The fragments of the building looked like they were ziplining toward the river, still aflame, smoking like falling meteors as they sizzled across the sky.
An anchor slipped as a fire truck moved beneath her, and Jamie’s little pyramid suddenly felt unstable. She felt a surge of panic, like she’d fallen out of bed in a deep sleep, and thrusting out an emergency channel to stabilize her. It hit the building down and behind her, and she felt the facade crumble. She threw out another broad-based net, but it was weak and flimsy, and she could feel the pieces threatening to tumble out of it like it was bare threads straining under the weight of tons.
The billowing cloud of black smoke shifted, and she caught it full-on, the darkness enveloping her. It burned her eyes, blurring her vision with darkness and pain. A great racking cough welled up within her, rolling up from deep within her lungs and hacking out, fresh air gone and replaced by something painful, like knives in her chest.
“Oh … hell …” Jamie said, sweating, her arms and legs in agony from all the weight, her mind sluggish, a hundred gravity channels thrown up around her. She could feel them now, like they were rats gnawing at her paralyzed body. She couldn’t move, couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t breathe—and she couldn’t let a single one of them go, or else people below her would die.
20.
Sienna
I was carrying the dog across my shoulders like a furry, whimpering scarf. It was fortunate that my powers didn’t affect animals because if they did, I would have absorbed this poor fella already. At least he would have been better company than Wolfe, I thought.
Grr …
There he went, proving me right again.
I coughed again, the air thick and heavy, smoke clouding the little apartment. I fought my way through the darkness and felt into the bedroom, my blazing hand casting a little light. Thick wafts of smoke curled in front of me, and I peered into the darkness.
There was someone on the bed. I could see them in the shadow, bedcovers all piled up in a human shape. I hurried over and ripped them off to find a woman there, her features in shadow, wearing some pretty classy silken pajamas. I nudged her, then felt quickly for a pulse. It was there, but damned slow, so I put her on my shoulders as the building seemed to shake and dust came falling down from the ceiling, flecks in the hazy air.
“Ruh roh,” I muttered as I hurried back the way I’d come, darting out into the hall above the staircase. I listened for that pounding noise, the sign that someone was in need of help, but I couldn’t hear it. The dog whined meekly on my shoulders, and I had a bare arm against the silk pajamas of the unconscious woman. This was not good; there was someone else here that needed saving, but I was already loaded up and in danger of touching this poor woman’s skin if I held out much longer. Not to mention she desperately needed first aid and treatment for smoke inhalation.
Damn.
I made my choice in a heartbeat, lunging toward the front of the building where I’d entered. I could see the fire starting to crawl its way back into the room where I’d entered, restarting the embers where I’d extinguished it. There wasn’t much I could do about it at the moment, however, with my hands occupied with the pup and the lady.
I eased my way out the window, the street cloudy with black smoke, and floated down to the first floor. I darted a glance back and saw ice everywhere, like Captain Frost had just shot first and asked questions later, hints of flames melting their way out from behind his handiwork. He’d covered every surface that looked like it had been burning in a sheen of glassy frost, and now sat next to an ambulance, an oxygen mask over his face, eyes glazed over as I stumped up with the dog and the woman.
“Hey,” he said, nodding, looking completely wiped out. His eyes were dull, his face was black from the smoke, and he moved aside the oxygen mask to speak. A couple paramedics watched him humorlessly, kind of resentfully, actually, as he huffed oxygen to recover from whatever the hell stupidity he’d done. “How did you do?”
“I got a dog and a woman, but there’s at least one other person trapped inside.” The street felt really dark from all the smoke. I gave him a once-over as I set down my burdens and the paramedics came forward to do their thing. “Did you clear the first floor?”
“I got overwhelmed,” he said, the huskiness of his voice reminding me of Lego Batman’s imitation of Christian Bale.
“And I’m underwhelmed,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t know whether the person I heard is trapped on the second or the third floor, but here’s an idea for you—don’t try and ice everything. Just put out the fire where you have to and clear the damned rooms.”
I turned to leave but Captain Frost stood up behind me. “You’re not actually going back in there, are you?” There was a note of disbelief in how he said it.
“I said there was someone else trapped, numbnuts,” I shot back, sliding him from the useful idiot column into the one without the “useful” appellation. “I’m not leaving them in there.”
“Did you not see what’s going on up there?” He pointed skyward, and I finally looked up.
“Whoa,” I said under my breath. Because it was a whoa kind of moment.
The top floor of the building looked like it had been deconstructed, pulled apart and left strewn in midair above the street. There were pieces of it everywhere, visible through the clouds of smoke draped over the street, pouring out of the fourth floor windows. Brick and glass just hung there, threatening to fall like a rain at any moment, and I could see rescue personnel edging clear of the debris zone as best they could. The fire trucks weren’t moving, probably because they needed to be close. I could see the firemen watching warily as they charged their hoses, trying to prepare to unleash on the blaze. It was probably coming soon.
Way up above us, barely visible through the edges of the cloud, I could see Gravity Gal, hanging like a goddess above the scene. She was moving her arms like a puppeteer as she drifted in and out of the cloud of smoke—or the smoke cloud drifted over her. She was breaking apart the building piece by piece, clearly trying to save lives and demolish the fire as best she could. I cringed, not really sure this was the best approach, but it was probably better than just running in, icing everything and hoping for the best. After all, anyone trapped on the top floors was probably screwed unless they could get to a window. She was opening things up, making it more likely someone—either the firemen or me—could save those people. I saw a hook and ladder moving into place with a few firemen in big yellow coats and their gear moving to take a look at the exposed top floor.
“I have to get back in there,” I said, feeling like I’d hesitated long enough.
“Are you insane?” Frost called after me as I started to take off.
“No, I’m not in a river in France,” I shot back, and watched as his face clouded over in confusion as my lobbed softball of a pun sailed past unappreciated.
I shot back into the window I’d just passed through, zipping down the hall where I’d rescued the last two survivors. I listened, hoping to hear the pounding and the screaming of the man I suspected was still in here. There were a few doors open down the hall, which seemed to me to herald the departure of those residen
ts who’d realized in time and gotten out. There were also three closed doors, and my problem now was figuring out which one the yelling man was behind.
There was nothing for it; caution was going to have to go out the window. I smashed down the first door, busting into an apartment that was totally empty. I swept through the phone booth sized bedroom just to be safe, and then shot back into the hall. I burst through the next door and found an apartment that looked like it had come right out of an episode of Hoarders. “Hell,” I muttered, wondering how hard I’d have to search to find a person in here. If there was anyone, they were probably hidden somewhere in the back, just past Ravenclaw’s Lost Diadem.
“Hello?” I shouted, almost knocking over a stack of newspapers or something as I surged through an all-in-one kitchen and living room no larger than a commemorative postage stamp. I went into the bedroom and sure enough, there was another figure in here. By the torchlight I could tell it was a woman, but when I pulled back the covers to rescue her, I got hit with a smell that overpowered the smoke and fire, and I thought for a minute I’d discovered a corpse.
I gagged, and then she stirred, making me sad, because I knew I’d have to pick her up in spite of the fact that she was plainly not into that whole personal hygiene thing that I held so dear. “The things I do for you people,” I muttered, not for the first time noting the irony of me going out of my way to rescue people when more than one person had commented on my apparent misanthropy.
A study in contradictions, that’s me.
I situated Stinky upon my shoulders and she did a full body writhe while trying to get in a more comfortable sleeping position. “Knock it off!” I told my unconscious passenger as she threatened to upend my balance, and I tried to cover my nose with my free hand. I was ready to weep, and not just because of the noxious fumes; she had been unconscious in her bed, and therefore was not the man I’d heard screaming and pounding at the walls.
Which meant I was probably going to have to carry her until I found him. I thought about just leaving her on the ground near the hallway where I was going to exit, but she might wake up and wander and that would be bad, so I just resigned myself to gagging quietly as I flew through toward the last door.
I kicked it down carefully, and of course hit something behind it, because naturally that would be where my unfortunate guy looking for salvation passed out. I pushed the door back slowly, moving the insensate body out of its path while doing my level best not to break bones in the poor soul trapped behind it. Once it was open wide enough, I snaked a hand through and grabbed a bare ankle, yanking the person out of the apartment and heaving them over my shoulder.
“Sorry,” I said, apologizing more for their position on top of the human garbage dump than for the slightly rough landing. I turned about, zipping out toward the front of the building, where the fire was starting to get heavy again as it crept its way back through the territory I’d left bare after putting it out before. It was spreading quickly, annoyingly so, but again I didn’t have time nor optimum circumstances to snuff it, so I wormed my way carefully out the front window and shot back to the ground.
“Here,” I said, dumping my passengers with utmost care at the feet of the paramedics, who had moved back beyond the debris-clouded skies above us. There were still a bevy of fire trucks out in front of the building, the ladders up at the exposed fifth floor. I could see them helping someone down one of them, getting another civilian out of harm's way. “I think that’s … aw, hell.”
My shoulders sagged as I looked down. I had two women at my feet—Stinky and, uh … well the second lady was sleeping in heavy flannel pajamas. Which was lucky for her, because if she’d been starkers, I might have absorbed her soul through my bare arms without even realizing it, because my shoulders were aching a little from carrying the two of them as I flew. Neck cramp.
But the fact that I’d discovered two women meant that the guy I’d heard? Still inside.
I sighed and flew away again, catching only a shout of protest from Captain Frost, who was still huffing away at his oxygen mask and proving me right once again about his uselessness. I saw a black SUV sliding up through the crowd, looking like it was going to bump Captain Frost. I was rooting for it to happen, personally, but was gone before I could see if it did.
I shot back into the third-floor window. I’d been at this for a while and I hadn’t even cleared one damned floor. Flames were dancing around again as I came inside, but I was determined to get this done fast, so I didn’t stop to snuff them this time, either, instead shooting back toward the last apartment I’d visited. I pushed through the door to find another scandalously small unit. I figured maybe since I’d rescued the lady without checking the rest of the apartment, I’d missed someone in here. A quick search of the bedroom turned up nada, and then I realized that there was another door besides the closet, and it was sealed shut.
A bathroom.
I turned the knob and pushed slowly, and was once again rewarded with resistance. Someone was passed out behind the door, and they grunted as I forced my way in. The smoke was particularly strong, hanging heavy at the ceiling, probably coming in through a vent fan. I looked around the room just to be certain I wasn’t missing anyone else, but the guy behind the door was it. He was nothing more than a shadowy figure in the haze, but I picked him up, adjusting him carefully on my shoulders. He was wearing nothing but boxers and a wife beater, which was kind of a problem considering what I was wearing, so I grabbed a towel off the rack by the shower that was roughly the dimensions of a reasonable cup of coffee and wrapped him up quickly before getting the hell out of there.
When I flew back into the hall, a flaming beam came crashing down into the open stairwell, fire consuming it from top to bottom. A wave of heat hit me, and I threw out a hand to try and absorb it. Gavrikov, I said, and felt it come to me, heat bleeding into my open palm.
Another beam burst through the ceiling above me and I darted sideways, pulling the fire with me as I tried to put it out. It came from the ceiling like wafts of smoke drawn right to me, and as the room lit up from the other spots where fire was burning through the plaster, I started to get the feeling that this was a losing battle.
“Sonofa,” I muttered, giving it up and starting back toward the front windows. The hallway was wreathed in smoke, and timbers popped above me. I heard something crash down behind me as a wave of heat ran over my back, then another started in front of me as the smoke was displaced by a ceiling collapse. It came down hard, cutting off easy escape with a burning blaze, my forehead breaking out into an immediate sweat and dripping black dust into my eyes.
I felt heat on my shoulders and looked back to see that somehow, the towel I’d wrapped my passenger in had caught fire. Letting out a bark of surprise, I tossed him off my shoulders with care and caught him in my arms, throwing off the towel. It lit off fast, engulfed in mere seconds as another beam behind me collapsed and pushed me forward, away from the continued structural failure consuming the building at my back and toward where it was, uhh … also collapsing at my front.
“Out of the frying pan,” I groused, lifting a hand to try and suppress the flames in the debris in front of me. “But I’m not going into this fire just yet.” I couldn’t even see the windows I had been using for egress, which was worrying considering the building was starting to come down around me. There was no easy escape this way, at least not until I cleared the inferno that was blazing there. I started to draw the fire to me, and then suddenly, I felt a burning in my shoulders that had nothing to do with the flames.
“Unghhh,” my passenger moaned, and I realized that I was keeping him from falling off by holding my bare hand and arm against his chest.
“Dammit!” I shouted at no one in particular, trying to readjust but finding that his shirt had been burned with the towel and was flaking off in my grip. He writhed in my grasp, my skin touching his entirely too long, and the warmth grew in my hands, in my arm, in the rest of me as my powers began to cons
ume his very soul.
21.
Jamie
The smoke was choking, filling Jamie’s lungs and causing her to gag. Spots flashed in her vision in the darkness, little sparkles of purple, like she’d stared into the sun too long and then shut her eyes. It felt like tons of lead were hanging from her—from her hands, feet, arms, hips—all around, ready to drag her down.
The smoke cleared briefly, and she sucked in hungry lungfuls of the warm night air, still heavy with the harsh chemical smell. She opened her eyes and coughed, the sparkles still flashing in front of her eyes, her eyelids as heavy as if she’d caught them in a gravity channel of their own.
She looked down and could see, just for a moment, all she’d wrought; pieces of the building were strung out all over the street like a jungle canopy. Firemen were climbing up through the gaps, their ladders extending so they could reach the disassembled top floor of the burning building. She watched them move, beneath the haze of light smoke that wafted off the cloud, swarming like ants heading into a hill.
She coughed, and her head felt slightly clearer. Something sagged, and she felt the weight adjust. She looked to the west and saw the flaming debris she’d shot toward the river had hit its mark, extinguished after landing in the water past the West Side Highway and Pier 94.
It wasn’t much, but it was a help, having that weight off. Her mind felt a little clearer. Need to get more weight off, she thought, and she brought the first loads of debris higher, pulling them toward her. She made an exhausted wave of the hand and sent them off to the west like she’d done with the other, ziplining them along a gravity channel toward the river and off her plate. She watched them streak across the sky, probably tons of brick and wood, and felt lighter when it hit, the splash visible in the darkness because of its epic size.
Masks (Out of the Box Book 9) Page 9