Time Bomb(38)

“Let me try,” she said as she unlatched the narrow window at her end of the room and cranked it until it opened as far as it would go. There was a safety feature that was supposed to keep kids from doing something stupid—like jumping. Or being able to scream for help during a bombing.

Still, Diana managed to get her arm through. She looked up at the sky instead of down at the ground then waved her arms and said, “Please. We need help.”

“If they couldn’t hear me, do you think they’re actually going to hear you?” Z sneered.

“It’s not about hearing me!” she shouted at him before waving toward the sky and calling up again.

Good, Z thought, because the whirring sound of a chopper grew louder, drowning out anything she had to say.

Slowly, she twisted enough to pull her head and arm back inside, then raced across the room.

“What the hell are you doing?” Z asked as she ripped a poster of the Eiffel Tower off a bulletin board and flipped it over. “This isn’t the time to make paper airplanes.”

“I need a marker. They can’t hear us, but there’s a camera on that news helicopter.”

A camera that could see a message and let the people on the ground know that Kaitlin needed help.

“I’ll find something.” Z hurried toward the desk at the front of the room near Kaitlin. He glanced over at her as he threw open a drawer. “Hang in there, Kaitlin. Diana’s got a good idea to get us out of here.” He pulled out the next drawer and felt a surge of triumph. “Will this work?” he yelled.

Diana turned, and he tossed the thick, dark red marker over to her. She caught it and nodded. “It’s perfect!”

She brushed off a desk, flipped the poster over, and started writing. Z squeezed Kaitlin’s hand, then crossed the room to read Diana’s message.



I’m Diana Sanford. My father is Senator Howard Sanford. The exits are blocked. We need help.





“What the hell?” Z grabbed the poster off the desk. “What about me and Kaitlin? You didn’t even mention that she’s injured and needs help right now. Don’t you think they should know that?”

“Nothing I write about Kaitlin is going to make a difference.”

“But telling them your name will? News flash. If we die, you’re going to die too. It doesn’t matter who your daddy is.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” She grabbed the sign and headed for the window. “The media cares about a school getting bombed and people getting trapped inside, but they care more when a United States senator’s daughter is fighting for her life with no one making a move to help get her out.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Maybe,” she said, sliding the poster through the open window. “But that doesn’t make it less true. I didn’t make the rules.”

He balled his hand into a fist and stalked to the other window as Diana angled the poster up toward the sky so the camera she promised was on board would get a shot of it when the chopper flew by. Poking his head through the window, Z waved his arms to help get attention. “Hey! We’re here. Read the stupid sign and come help us.”

The news chopper flew closer, and Z craned his neck to look up at it. Then he glanced down at the parking lot, where the emergency workers continued to hold their ground.

This was a bust.

“Okay, Princess,” Z said, pulling his head back inside. “They saw your stupid sign. And they still aren’t coming in.”

Ducking back inside, Diana said, “We have to be patient. They have to follow protocol.”

“Protocol can kiss my—”

“Hello?”

“What was that?” Z whirled toward the door.

“Hello?” the voice came again, and Z let out a whoop.

“Kaitlin, do you hear that? They’re coming.” Firefighters were coming to the rescue. They were going to get out of this. “You’re going to be okay.” Z wove through desks and yelled back, “Hey! We’re down here. There’s someone injured in here.”

“Hello?” the voice called out again. This time closer.

“Please hurry.” Z knelt down next to Kaitlin. Gently, he took her hand. She looked up at him, and he smiled as someone called, “Cas, they’re here.”

“Thank God you found us.” Z looked toward the open doorway and stopped smiling. Standing there was a dirt-streaked, sweaty Frankie Ochoa. Not a firefighter who could help Kaitlin, but a football player with no way out—just like them.





Diana





— Chapter 33 —


DIANA WASN’T SURE how to feel about Frankie’s appearance. He was shirtless, and his tanned chest was covered with sweat and dust, a change from the last time they’d seen each other.

Two dates. He didn’t show for the third, and he never bothered to tell her why. She refused to ask and instead took it as a sign. Now he was here, and the horror on Z’s face made it clear how he felt about seeing the star quarterback.

“It’s you.” Z glanced behind Frankie as if hoping for someone else to appear.

And someone did.

Her face looked almost gray next to her dark frizzy hair. Her eyes were wide and glassy. Dirt and blood smeared the girl’s face and neck. It looked as if she had one arm wrapped in a dirty sling.