Game of Fear (Montgomery Justice #3)(62)

Niko’s words were cold and hard. “Don’t screw with us, Ashley. Do your job, and you might get out of here alive. One more mistake, and your sister will never know what happened to you, if she’s alive to still wonder.”

“Ahhh, it’s nice to know the real Niko is back.”

The Warden turned to the other guards. “Take her to her room. If she resists . . .” He smiled. “Actually, I don’t think she’s stupid enough to do that again.”




Shrapnel flew toward them. Deb hit the ground as the fiery wood and metal sliced through the air. She lifted her head cautiously. Secondary explosions tore through both the front and back of Sammy’s Bar. The back of the building was engulfed.

She ran around front, her feet slipping on ice and chunked piles of snow. She fought for balance and moved on. Smoke and flames billowed out some of the windows. Patrons, some burned and bleeding, staggered out the doors or used chairs to break through the windows to escape.

“We’ve got to get everyone out,” Gabe yelled. He looked around. “Zach and Hawk are still in there!”

God.

She skidded to a halt. The main explosion had centered in the rear kitchen, but the front had suffered substantial damage as well. Cops and patrons helped drag the injured through the smoke, coughing and choking. A few people had collapsed on the ground.

A man with blood streaming down his face was kneeling on the asphalt, calling 9-1-1. Deb recognized him. He usually sat at the bar. She knelt beside him, amid the debris and broken glass. “Are there others left inside?”

The guy’s eyes had glazed over in shock, but he nodded. He keeled over and Deb caught him and laid him down, shoving some chunks of debris under his legs to elevate them.

Gabe, his brothers, and a few cops started back inside, though. Fire engine sirens screamed in the distance, but with all the alcohol inside, the place could light up any second.

They had to get everyone out. Fast.

Deb ran in the bar. Soot burned her eyes as she peered into the roiling clouds of smoke. A fire blazed hot in the corner, near the kitchen door. Hawk and Gabe held fire extinguishers dousing the flames. Nick and Luke were dragging wounded people out the door.

Zach Montgomery—she recognized him from movies and late-night television—carried a female deputy out the door.

Deb searched the rubble for signs of the injured.

She caught a glimpse of a polished black shoe. She shoved aside a fallen table. Hidden behind it, a cop lay flat, facedown. She knelt beside him, then turned him over. A huge gash marred the side of his head, blood covered his face.

His chest didn’t move. He wasn’t breathing.

She felt for his pulse. No heartbeat, either.

No time for CPR here. Flames were licking closer to this section. Quickly, Deb shoved aside another table so she could grab him under the shoulders and pull him out.

Gabe passed the extinguisher to Nick and ran to help her.

“We’ve got to get him out of here,” she wheezed, the smoke already affecting her lungs. “He’s not breathing.”

Gabe picked up the cop’s feet, and they raced out of the building.

She knelt beside him, placed her hands on his chest, and started CPR. “Gabe, get an ambulance here! Fast.”

He called a number. “They’re already on the way. You need help with him?”

“No, I got this,” she said, meeting his gaze. “Go save your bar.”

“A life is more important.”

“Then see if anyone else is in there.” She tilted the victim’s head back. “This is what I do. Go.”

She focused on reviving the cop. When her arms had nearly given out, the paramedics arrived and whisked him off in an ambulance. She hoped he’d make it.

Deb sat back on her heels, then stood, her knees a bit wobbly. She scanned the horrific scene, too much like the aftermath of an insurgent attack. Cops and ambulances everywhere. Burned and bloody people being shoved onto gurneys and into squad cars for trips to the hospital. She wiped the perspiration from her brow. The front of the bar smoldered now, the smoke no longer hellish black.

Gabe came over and stood beside her, his stance stiff and unyielding.

“Are your brother and Hawk okay?”

“Yeah. A little singed, but fine.”

“What happened?”

“Gas explosion in the kitchen. Both the cooks and several patrons are dead. A lot more are injured, everything from broken bones and third-degree burns to shrapnel and glass lacerations. Some of them aren’t going to make it.”

He rubbed his face with his hands. “God, I never meant for this to happen.”

“Was it an accident?”

His regret-filled gaze rose to meet hers. “No, I really pissed somebody off.”





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CHAPTER FIFTEEN




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THE BREAKFAST SMELLS of the cafeteria didn’t make Ashley’s mouth water. They just made her sick. She shuffled through the double doors to the lunchroom. With every step, pain pierced her side. She couldn’t see the wound or get to it. The Warden had cut her just far enough back to be out of reach.

She wanted to dig the chip out, but she’d been warned. They’d know if she tampered with it. She was tethered to this place now.