Time Bomb(22)

“Is someone there? Can you please help me?”

He stilled at the sound of a voice. When the guy called out again, Tad let out the breath he had been holding. It wasn’t Frankie.

Tad looked over his shoulder at the stairwell. If he got out of the school, he could tell the firefighters that there was someone trapped on this floor. They had the training to deal with this crap. He’d probably make things worse if he tried to move something he shouldn’t and maybe bring the whole building down.

But if Frankie was still in here somewhere and heard someone yelling for help, he wouldn’t run for the exit. Frankie would be the hero everyone assumed he was. He’d say it was his job as captain to tell Tad to beat a path to safety and let him handle saving the day.

Well, screw that.

Tad turned and headed back down the hall as fast as he could without looking at Mr. Rizzo’s lifeless body. As he navigated the debris, he listened for the guy to yell again.

Come on, man. Give me another signal.

“Hey, is someone here?” Tad hollered as he got closer to the cave-in of desks and two-by-fours and tons of other junk that must have once been on the floor above this one. This sucks. “Hello! Anyone there?”

No response.

Come on. Yell again. “Hey. Is anyone there?”

“Hello?” the voice came again, and it sounded as if it was just on the other side of that mess.

Everything in Tad screamed to get out while he could.

He pictured Mr. Rizzo’s lifeless eyes.

God, he hated this.

“Hang tight. I’m coming.” Tad grabbed a two-by-four, yanked it out of the rubble, and threw it behind him. Then he tugged another free. All he needed was just enough space to tunnel through, find the guy, and bring him out.

Another board. Some tile. Good enough. He climbed over a desk and around a bunch of beams. “Hey, man, can you hear me? Tell me where you are.”

“In the bathroom.”

Which was currently blocked by a piece of the ceiling that had fallen in. Awesome. Just freakin’ awesome.

Tad studied the wreckage, pulled hard at another board, and stumbled back as it came free. He threw it to the side, and as he reached for another, he was pitched forward as the school rocked with another explosion.

Dust and bits of tile fell from the ceiling. The boards and desks shook. Metal groaned somewhere behind him.

The stairs.

He looked through the dust and yelled “No!” just as the stairs he’d almost fled down and the area around it collapsed.





Cas





— Chapter 22 —


“HELLO? IS SOMEONE THERE?” a guy called from somewhere beyond the door. The shaking had stopped—again.

“Hello?” the voice shouted. This time louder. “Hey. Anyone there? Are you okay?”

“I’m in here.” She spun toward the guy’s voice and yelled back, “I’m in here and there’s something blocking the door! I’m trying to move it and need some help!” She waited for him to respond. When he didn’t, she shouted, “Hey! Are you still out there?”

“Yeah. Sorry. There are a bunch of things I have to get around to get to you. This might take a couple minutes. Hang tight and relax.”

Not in this lifetime. The smell of smoke was getting stronger. She might have come to the school to die, but she hadn’t wanted it to happen like this. That made no sense, even to her, but it’s the way things were. At least for now.

Cas turned from the door and plowed through the rubble to the only window she could see. The room used to have two, but the one near the front of the room was buried behind . . . God only knew what.

“You okay in there?” the guy yelled as something thudded on the other side of the door.

“I’m still here.” Which was far from okay. “I’m going to the window. Maybe I can see what’s happening.” Or find a way out. When she’d picked this room today, she hadn’t considered ever needing to leave it. For some reason, that struck her as horrifically amusing.

“Keep me posted. I’m Frankie Ochoa, by the way.”

Cas froze. Sirens from outside grew louder. The firefighters had arrived. And so had Frankie.

She thought about earlier in the practice room. The way the words they exchanged almost made her change her mind. How if he had returned then, she might not be here now. “I’m Cassandra Armon.”

“Cassandra,” he called over something scraping, “it’s nice to meet you.” He grunted, and she heard something hit the floor on his side. “I should have that door open in no time. Just hang in there.”

“Okay.” Telling herself it was stupid to be disappointed that he didn’t automatically recognize her full name, she pushed a chair out of the way and pulled herself up onto an overturned cabinet.

The smoke was getting thicker. She squinted toward the front of the room. It was coming in through the vent near the ceiling, not far from where a clock used to be.

Waking up in what looked like a war zone was scary. The idea of being burned to a crisp was paralyzing.

As quickly as she could, Cas lowered herself down from the cabinet, limped around a broken desk, and got close enough to see out the window. The view looked nothing like it had when she’d stood here earlier, gathering her courage.