Survive the Fire

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Survive the Fire Page 23

by Diana Duncan


  Kate’s throat constricted. The hellish dogfight revived her worst memories and fears. But this time, fear for Murphy’s life overrode all else. He’d come to her rescue and was in mortal danger. She couldn’t help him. Nor could Liam.

  Coughing violently, Liam scrubbed his face. Moisture flooded his eyes as he grimly squinted at Kate. “He hurt you?”

  Shaking and cold and sick, she shook her head, grasping for her shredded composure. “You got here in time.”

  “I can’t shoot you without ruining my plans.” Sounding oddly perplexed, Daniel shoved the Mace in his jacket pocket. “I was prepared for your dog. And your violence. But you didn’t wait for my invitation. I wasn’t done with Katherine.”

  Liam gritted his teeth. “Be very glad. Now I’m just gonna haul your sorry ass to jail instead of twisting off your dick and cramming it down your throat.”

  Daniel blinked. “You were supposed to come after I phoned.”

  “You whack jobs really get off on the planning and the hunt. And hurting defenseless women,” Liam growled. “But you’re not so hot at improv.” His body language shouted aggressive male challenge. “Face me like a real man. If you have the guts.”

  Daniel turned toward him, putting his back to her. “You were supposed to walk in unarmed, with your hands on your head, and surrender to save Katherine.”

  “Yeah. I’m gonna crawl in here with my tail tucked between my legs and offer myself up.” Liam sneered. “Whatever you’re on ... dial down the dosage.”

  “But you have to watch me teach Katherine her lesson.” Daniel’s shoulders twitched uncontrollably. “She’s mine, to use and discard.”

  Kate took deep breaths and fought the urge to barf.

  “You are one sick fuck.” Liam’s watery glance briefly caught hers, and he casually gestured with the signal he gave Murphy to heel. “As of now, you’re closed for business. Permanently.”

  From the gruesome sounds of the death match raging nearby, Murphy was unable to comply. She straightened. The signal was for her. Liam wanted her to follow his lead. Putting Daniel permanently out of business? She was so there.

  Daniel bobbed his head at the cages. “Get into the crate.”

  Liam snorted. “I know you’re whacked, but do I look stupid?”

  Kate eased unsteadily to her feet. Liam was goading Daniel. Distracting him. What did he want her to do?

  “One press of a button and this whole place erupts,” Daniel threatened.

  Liam coughed, shrugged. “Fine by me.”

  Daniel’s voice rose in a shriek. “I’m in control here, not you!”

  “You’re losing control every passing second. I’m pissing all over your precious plans and you can’t handle it.” Liam wiped moisture from his eyes. His glance brushed the vase on the table beside her before staring fixedly at Daniel’s forehead. “You’ve been out in the Vegas sun too long without a hat, Stalker Boy. You’re touched in the head.”

  Got it. Loud and clear.

  He wanted her to bash Daniel in the head. Happy to oblige.

  But the vase was small and slender. It wouldn’t knock Daniel out. She took a steadying breath. Liam knew what he was doing. She stealthily lifted the crystal vase off the table.

  Daniel shakily brandished the remote. “Ready to die, O’Rourke?”

  Movements furtive, Kate removed the lily. She laid it on the table, then smothered the vase in a wad of silk tablecloth and tipped, letting the fabric absorb the water.

  “Hit the button, cocky frat fucker. Let’s check in at the Pearly Gates together.” Liam’s lips slanted. “Oh, wait. You’re headed for a more southerly destination.”

  Gripping the vase, she took a careful step. Then another. Liam had the sharpest eye-hand coordination and fastest reflexes she’d ever seen. But choking on Mace would slow him down. Was he fast enough to grab the remote before Daniel blew them to pieces? She looked at Liam, all lean muscle and dangerous menace. Hell, even maced, she’d bet her life on his capable hands any day.

  She was about to do exactly that.

  She forced herself to tune out the ghastly screams and snarls of the dogs tearing each other apart on the other side of the wall. Palms sweating, she crept closer to Daniel’s unsuspecting back. If he turned around ...

  Daniel’s limbs jerked like a marionette on a string. “Obey me! Or I’ll—”

  She moved behind him. Watched for Liam’s signal.

  “You’ll what? Should’ve finished using your brain before you donated it to science, Abby Normal,” Liam taunted as he subtly shifted closer to Daniel. If she hadn’t been watching so closely, she wouldn’t have noticed. “If you think I’m gonna make this fun and easy for you, you’ve seen too many movies. I’ve spent the past seventeen minutes disarming most of your setup.”

  Kate blinked. He’d been here seventeen minutes?

  “Impossible!” Daniel went rigid, voice quivering with fury. “You don’t have the intelligence to destroy my work!”

  “What happened to the IEDs at Treasure Island, the Stratosphere, and the hidden device at the Venetian?” Liam grinned. “Big Bad Bomber failed. Guess you’ll have to look for your jollies in prison.” Outside, helicopter blades thwacked overhead, and his grin widened. “More guests for your pity party.” He thrust his fingers through his hair, positioning his arm to strike at the remote. “SWAT’s about to crash your bash.”

  “I have both luck and skill on my side.” Daniel hissed, his body vibrating.

  “There’s luck and skill, and then there’s payback.”

  Kate raised the vase, and Liam nodded. “Do it!”

  She smashed the vase on Daniel’s head. As crystal shards glittered to the floor, he grunted and staggered.

  Liam lunged for the remote. The men scuffled and jockeyed for control in a macabre, slow-motion dance.

  Kate scrambled around the slot machines to the corner where Daniel had thrown Liam’s gun. She flung the ladder aside. The shadows were too murky to see much. She dropped to her knees and groped along the floor. C’mon! The weapon had to be here.

  On the other side of the wall, the dogfight reached a grisly crescendo. An anguished, mournful howl cut off, then everything went dreadfully silent. Her stomach pitched. Had Champion scored another defeat? Had he killed Murphy?

  “Champion’s war cry!” Daniel crowed. “You forgot the Golden Rule of Vegas—the house always wins!”

  Neither man would relinquish the trigger. Daniel had it clenched in his left fist, Liam’s right hand over the top of Daniel’s left. Liam’s grimace was tortured. “Here’s your jackpot.” He threw a left cross that snapped Daniel’s head back. “And this is for hurting Kate.” Another hit. But Daniel refused to go down.

  A loud bang resounded from the wall, followed by a brilliant flash. Orange flames shot from half a dozen of her photos, which instantly blackened. Acrid smoke snaked to the ceiling. Her breath hitched in horror. Liam hadn’t been able to disarm everything. One of them must have accidentally pressed a button.

  Daniel’s enraged scream sounded inhuman. “You’re ruining all my plans!”

  She gave up on the gun and dug in the toolbox. Clutching a thick crowbar, she surged to her feet. By the time she twisted through the slot machine maze, the wall had caught fire. Flames licked up the moiré to the ceiling and smoke burned her eyes.

  The smoke was attacking Liam, too. Already compromised by Mace, his eyes streamed. He was coughing too hard to block Daniel’s savage knee to his stomach. When he doubled over, he let go of the remote ... and all the spotlights exploded. Flames blasted the ceiling in a crackling sea of red heat. “Kate!” he croaked. “Get out!”

  “Not without you!” Brandishing the crowbar, she ran toward him. Embers rained red-hot needles as fire roared up the silk-draped booth next to her. She swerved and kept running.

  “It’s spreading too fast!” Liam slugged Daniel in the ribs, dodged and took a hit on the shoulder. “I can take care of myself. You’re a liability. Go!” As he c
hoked out the demand, the booths burst into flames, ringing the room in fire.

  A flaming chunk of debris crashed at her feet, blocking her path to him. He jerked his horrified focus to her. Daniel seized the unprotected moment to slam a fist into his face. Liam recoiled as bone crunched. Kate flinched. He was right. He couldn’t watch her when he needed to save himself. “Heads up,” she hollered and tossed him the crowbar.

  She paused long enough to see him catch it on the fly. She’d done all she could. Agony choked her worse than the smothering smoke as she wove a crooked path to the doorway. She was going. Leaving her heart behind.

  Wheezing, she battled the stinging smoke and searing heat and floundered into the next room. She stumbled over something and fell. Pushing up on her elbows, she came face-to-face with Murphy, prone on the floor. His eyes were closed, his body torn and battered. He must’ve tried to get back to Liam and collapsed. “Murphy!” she called. “Murphy, wake up!”

  He didn’t move. Didn’t respond. Didn’t breathe. Her heart twisted. Liam would be devastated. Tears welled, and she placed a trembling hand on his blood-soaked fur. The valiant warrior had sacrificed his life for hers. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Beneath her palm, the dog’s side heaved in a slow, labored breath. He was alive! She glanced at the advancing flames. She’d be damned if she’d leave him to roast!

  Arms up to protect her face, she dashed through the fiery doorway and charged back into the main room. Flames chased close on her heels. She couldn’t see anyone in the hellish inferno. Where was Liam? He hadn’t passed her and she hadn’t seen any other way out. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

  Please, don’t let him be trapped.

  The blazing barrier was too hot, too fierce to keep looking. She ripped moiré from a booth and stomped the smoldering edge. She sprinted back to Murphy, spread the fabric beside him and then rolled the limp dog onto the silk. “You weigh a ton, mutt.”

  Talking to him helped calm her terror. She alternated between inane conversation and coughing as she dragged the unconscious dog down a black, smoky corridor toward what she hoped was an exit. And hoped desperately that they wouldn’t run into Champion.

  A hellish eternity later, she rounded a corner and gasped in dismay. She’d trudged in a circle, back to the center of the inferno. She retreated from the heat as much as possible.

  Lost.

  Trapped.

  About to burn to death.

  Something cold and wet touched her palm. She squeaked and jerked her gaze down. Murphy stood beside her, wobbly, but aware. His warm, reassuring tongue licked her hand, and he nudged her thigh with his nose, as if pushing her up the corridor. What did she have to lose? “Hope you’re a better navigator than me.” She rested her hand on the limping dog’s back and let him guide her through the black, smoky abyss.

  After another eternity, Murphy led her into a room. She closed the door, shutting out the smoke. The windows were boarded over, but a skylight provided enough illumination to take stock. They were in the kitchen. Another door faced the opposite wall. Kate ran to it and felt the panel, then the knob. Not hot.

  She cautiously opened the door and saw a large pantry stuffed with kitchenware and canned food. Her hopes sank.

  No way out.

  “Now what?” She turned back to the dog. Panting heavily, he lay beside the sink. She rummaged through drawers and discovered a stack of towels and some tablecloths. Thankfully, the water still worked. She soaked towels at the tap, then stuffed wet cloths beneath the door to block the smoke.

  The dog’s torn flesh was a vivid reminder of her own pain, and compassion welled inside her. She located scissors in a utility drawer. Murmuring quiet nonsense, she used towels and strips of tablecloth to bandage Murphy’s bloody wounds. He whimpered a few times, but obviously knew that she was trying to help and didn’t snap or bite.

  She filled a bowl with water and offered him a drink. He couldn’t raise his head very far, so she lifted the bowl to him.

  His liquid brown eyes looked into hers with empathy and a depth of understanding that jarred her to the core. She’d never again doubt the dog’s intelligence and reasoning skills. Or his devotion.

  He licked weakly at the water before dropping his head to his paws. He’d exhausted his energy saving them from the fire.

  The fire’s roar grew louder. Smoke crept around the wet towels. Hazy air heated to stifling, and sweat beaded on her forehead. Crouched beside the listless dog, she stared up at the skylight. No way to hoist herself up, much less Murphy.

  But she couldn’t sit there and wait for them to die. Coughing, she assessed the room again.

  Her glance snagged on the walk-in refrigerator. Lights had worked in the main room before the electricity shorted out. If the refrigerator was operational, the heavy steel appliance would be cool, well insulated, and smoke free inside. She jumped up, and flung open the doors. Cool air rushed out. Yes!

  The gloomy interior appeared empty, except for metal canisters marked with the symbol for hazardous chemicals. Her stomach clenched. Daniel’s explosive. She didn’t dare remove it. If it didn’t stay cool ... She pushed aside uneasiness. Once the refrigerator’s interior grew hot enough to combust the explosives, she and Murphy would suffocate to death, anyway. “C’mon, Murphy,” she coaxed. “Come here, boy.”

  Murphy whined and struggled to get up, but couldn’t. She eased him onto a tablecloth, grabbed the remaining towels and last tablecloth, and dragged him into the refrigerator.

  She shut the doors, enveloping them in total darkness. The wounded dog needed to stay warm. Shivering from the sudden drop in temperature, she spread a pallet of towels for him to lie on. By feel, she wrapped him in the tablecloth. She draped a towel around her shoulders and sat beside him. He eased his head into her lap.

  She stroked his soft fur. “Liam said the SWAT team’s coming,” she reassured him, and herself. “They’ll call the fire department.”

  Misery knifed her stomach. Liam hadn’t had Murphy to guide him. Did he make it out?

  Shaking, she huddled with the weak dog, sharing body heat. Or had he become disoriented and died in the blaze?

  Alone in the cold blackness with a dying companion, she had nothing to do except torment herself with the cruel image. Aubrey’s chances for a future had burned up with the photos. Everything was gone. Had she lost Liam, too?

  Hugging Murphy, the barriers around her heart shattered.

  Had Liam died without ever knowing she loved him?

  * * *

  Kate had no idea how much time passed before she finally heard clanking and stomping. Numbly, she cocked her head, afraid to believe. Were those voices?

  “In here,” she croaked. “Help!”

  The doors swung open and a burly firefighter stared at her in disbelief. “I’ll be damned! Are you all right, Miss?”

  “Yes.” She gestured at the dog, barely clinging to life. “But he needs help, fast. Can you carry him?”

  “You bet.” He lifted Murphy from her lap. Another firefighter helped her up. Her joints were stiff from both cold and trepidation. The firefighter offered to carry her, but she declined. She was walking out a survivor, not being carried out a victim.

  He stripped off his coat and wrapped it around her. She stepped from the refrigerator into smoldering heat. Trembling, she leaned on his arm as she hobbled through the stinking wreckage. The kitchen end of the building was barely intact, and the outer perimeter was a charred shell. If Murphy hadn’t led her to shelter, she would’ve burned alive.

  The man carrying Murphy followed. “The refrigerator was a clever shelter. But I’m glad we found you when we did. If you’d stayed in there, you’d have succumbed to hypothermia or suffocation.”

  Kate nodded. “I know.” She’d considered both options before entering the refrigerator, and during the torturous vigil inside. Falling asleep in the pervasive cold and never waking up was preferable to death by fire. But dead was dead.

 
The firefighter supporting her patted her arm. “I didn’t think we’d find any survivors after we discovered the bodies.”

  Bodies? Her breath stopped. Her heart stopped.

  The world stopped.

  “D-do you know who they were?”

  “One was a big dog.” He grimaced. “The other was human, but we’ll have to ID with dental records.”

  She swallowed hard. Willed herself to keep slogging through the ashes of ruined dreams. Who had died? Daniel ... or Liam? “Did you find a-any survivors?”

  “Other than you? Afraid not.” Devastated, she choked back a sob, and he softened. “But we weren’t the first responders. Were there more people inside?”

  “One man.”

  The man who meant everything to her.

  Why had she clung to denial so long? Why hadn’t she told him how she felt? She hadn’t had the guts to gamble on her future. Now she might never have the chance.

  “I’ll notify the captain.” He caught her as she stumbled through the blackened frame of the doorway. “Watch your step.”

  Bedlam assaulted her as she staggered outside. Choking gray smoke veiled the predawn air with spectral fog. Firemen and cops shouted and ran. Fire engines, police cars and ambulances flanked the burned ruins, harsh red-and-blue lights strobed. Dirty canvas hoses snaked along the asphalt. A steady, mournful drip echoed from the blackened skeleton.

  So this was what Hell looked like.

  She turned to the firefighter behind her. “Take the dog to an ambulance. Maybe a paramedic can help him.”

  He frowned. “You need to be examined yourself.”

  “No.” She had to find Liam.

  She looked inside every ambulance. They held wounded firefighters—but no Liam. She checked each fire truck, each police car.

  Not there.

  Starting at the beginning, she looked again. She circled the smoky, stinking parking lot, searching every man’s features. None was the familiar face she longed to see. She couldn’t find his brothers, either.

  If Liam hadn’t made it, they’d be with his body ... in the morgue.

 

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