Gray Night (12 page)

 I was able to unlock my car door and get in, with intense concentration. I started the engine, put her in gear, and—my heart stopped as I looked in the rear view and stared into the amber eyes of a beautiful little thirteen-year-old girl with long hair the color of honey in twilight.

 I tore my eyes away and slammed them shut, tight as I could. No, no, no, no, this was not happening. It wasn’t. It wasn’t real.

 “It can’t be,” I heard myself say out loud. “It can’t be. It can’t. You. Are. Dead.”

 She laughed at me, giggling like a small child. “She’s dead,” I said, my vision blurry and wet.

 I opened my eyes without looking behind and grabbed the stick shift so hard the cap on the handle came off in my hand. It felt wrong. Sticky. I looked down and was holding a large uncut diamond covered in blood.

 I grabbed for the knob to unroll the window and couldn’t keep hold of it. I opened the door, got out, and pulled my arm back to throw the bloody diamond as far as I could when the shelter exploded in a ball of fire. Except it wasn’t the shelter. It was a mining compound, a concrete fortress, burning in the jungle. The smoke was choking me and I dropped the diamond. I fell back into the driver’s seat, bringing the door closed with me, and slammed the accelerator down. I couldn’t breathe again until I was on the highway.

 A minute later, I pulled to the curb outside Nick’s office building. No, that wasn’t right. I was half an hour north. I…I didn’t remember driving back. But it didn’t matter. I was here. Everything was okay. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. This was where I needed to be. Come on. Focus Adrian.

 I got out and walked to the front of the building and heard a door slide shut. I mean, I remember getting out of the car, looking around and seeing some vehicle parked a ways behind me on the curb. Then I was standing at the doors fumbling with my keys to the lobby. I spun around at the sound and behind me stood four men. Three of them were large and dressed alike. The fourth man was smaller and nondescript, looking totally out of place. That was weird. I said so out loud and looked around wondering what else I’d see, trying to separate what was real and what wasn’t. The van I thought I’d seen down the street wasn’t there. It was parked up the street, well in front of me. When did that happen? Had it happened?

 The average looking fourth man hissed at the triplets.

 “Kill him! And get inside the building. There may be another with him inside. A woman. Find her!”

 I’d never had a psychotic episode deal so directly with present events. I noticed how pale the triplets were at the exact same time. Two of the large men had sores on their necks and arms, like the flesh was peeling back and rotting. It was familiar in a way I didn’t want to think about.

 They took their first step forward and I sighed. There was no freaking way my luck was that bad.

Chapter Ten

 I couldn’t fight all three, hell, maybe not even one, but I was all that stood between them and Claire. Fuck it.

 I drew my pistol. Which had no effect whatsoever, as it was lying on the floor of an abandoned building in the Bronx.

 “Well, this is awkward,” I said to no one in particular.

 The fourth man smirked.

 “Keys, Mr. Knight,” he said.

 I couldn’t let any of them get inside first. Which meant not dying outside. I needed a distraction, some way to warn Claire.

 The fourth man told one of the triplets to get my keys. I didn’t like the way that sounded at all, so I tossed them to the big guy.

 “Open the door,” the fourth man ordered.

 The big guy with my keys went to the door and I caught the scent of smoke again. Not now! Think Adrian. You need to get in. But I couldn’t think of any way to get around, much less through, that guy.

 The big guy fumbled with the lock. He tried jamming each key into the lock until he dropped them on the ground.

 “Move. Move, move, move!” the fourth man hollered, walking forward and grabbing the keys.

 “You two,” he pointed behind him. “Find the girl. You,” he said, pointing to the one he’d shoved to the other side of him, “You take him inside,” nodding at me.

 None of them responded.

 The fourth man looked at the keys, trying to decide which one it was.

 “Two over from the big silver Chevy one,” I offered.

 “Thanks,” he snorted.

 I was out of time.

 He leaned down and slid the key into the lock. I couldn’t have gone through the others, but this guy…I wasn’t going to get a better chance.

 I pivoted on my right foot, forcing all my weight and momentum into my left elbow that slammed into the back of his head, busting it through the glass. The force carried the two of us crashing into the lobby.

 I rolled off him and saw all three men leap through the doorway. Two of them went straight for the stairs.

 “Nooo!” I screamed, kicking myself around and scissoring the legs of the big man bearing down on me out from under him. I rolled away as he hit, then threw myself forward, grabbing the ankle of the second man going upstairs.

 One hard yank tripped him right into the stairs. I was happy to see the blow was cushioned…by his face. I crawled along the man’s back and smashed my knee down into the back of his head when he tried to raise it, crushing his face into the corner of the steps as he howled in pain.

 I jumped to my feet and ran up the stairs as fast as I could, praying I wasn’t too late.

* * * *

 I stretched for a minute after finishing the last phone call of the evening. When I was done I realized the only thing left was to face my feelings lurking on the other side of the wall I had spent the day building. A wall that had started to crumble with the setting sun.

 The building had emptied and Abner left maybe an hour ago, leaving me all alone. Part of me wondered if I wasn’t the only person on the entire block, but the universe hates a void so the building itself did its best to fill it with creaks and groans that became so intolerable I walked behind the desk and opened the window. Anything to add some sounds of life. What was I even still doing here? Waiting for Knight?

 I pulled my phone out to call a cab when I heard it through the open window behind me. The sound of glass shattering, muffled and distant. It could have come from several blocks away. Could have come from anywhere. Somebody dropping something outside or some teenagers throwing rocks through a window. Then the building grew quiet and the distinct feeling of being all alone vanished.

 I set my phone on the desk and opened the top drawer, taking out the .38. Could it be Adrian? What was that breaking glass?

 I tried to think of the most realistic situation that could be going on, like maybe a street-wide outbreak of happy, fluffy bunnies, when heavy footsteps hammered up the stairs. I repeated to myself again it could be Adrian.

 Whoever it was reached the fourth floor. Footsteps moved along the hall that kept stopping, and door handles rattled before moving on. It wasn’t him. Had I locked the door when I came in? What would they do if they found a door that opened? Not to mention who ‘they’ was? I knelt down behind the desk and rested the revolver on top to keep it from shaking so much.

 The footsteps paused in front of the office door and my heart rate doubled. The knob turned—make that tripled—then stopped and tried turning again. It was locked.

 I sighed in relief as whoever-it-was moved down the hall to the next door, when Nightwish blared in a ringtone from my phone, lighting up and buzzing across the desk.

 No, no, no! I grabbed it and squeezed all the buttons at once, shutting off the ringer, then threw it in my purse. It didn’t matter. Whoever was out there heard it and turned back to the door, trying the handle again, much harder this time. My heart tried to tear free of my chest.

 “Ha!” yelled someone else as the hall lights came on, showing two shadowy figures through the blinds on the window and door. The larger one at the door turned to face the one that had spoken.

 I heard ‘Ah, crap’ as the larger shadow rushed him and they fell out of sight, struggling. Several crashing noises later, a long horizontal shadow came into view in front of the window before smashing through the glass and rolling to a stop at the desk in front me.

 “Adrian!” I screamed, standing to help him.

 Before I made it, he was scrambling on hands and knees through the broken glass to the opposite side of Nick’s desk, reaching around and ripping out the top side drawer.

 The large man put one hand on the broken window frame and used it for support as he jumped into the office, pausing to look us.

 “Where is it?” Adrian yelled.

 The large man charged me.

 I shot him. I hadn’t even realized I’d raised the gun in my hands.

 He stumbled, hit the corner of the desk, and grunted as he righted himself.

 I shot him again. Twice.

 The report was so loud my ears buzzed, and so close I felt the spray of blood from his chest on my face.

 He stumbled backwards into the desk again as glass exploded over his head. He fell to the ground, struggling to stand, while Adrian stood over him with the broken handle of the coffee pot.

 “Come on,” Adrian said, motioning toward the door.

 “Adrian! What is going on?” I screamed, still holding the gun out.

 I heard heavy footsteps again coming up the stairs over the buzzing noise in my ears.

 “Someone is coming!” I shrieked at him.

 “Cover your ears,” he said, taking my hands with caution and gently slipping the revolver from my hand.

 He put his boot between the shoulder blades of the man on the floor and fired two rounds, point blank, into the back of his skull.

 No less than three hundred different emotions flooded into me. I wanted to be horrified, but at the same time I was grateful, anxious, satisfied, terrified, thrilled, hysterical, and curious.

 He grabbed my hand and led me out into the hall. Two large men, dressed in scrubs I now noticed, reached the top of the steps not fifteen feet from us. Terror won out.

 “The elevator,” Adrian said, dragging me toward it.

 He threw me inside and pulled the iron cage door closed as the two men reached us.

 The first one grabbed the metal grated door with two hands and pulled so hard it bent the bar he held, breaking the latch. Adrian grabbed the lower bar to hold it shut as best he could. He wasn’t winning.

 “The button. Hit the button, Claire! First floor!” Adrian yelled.

 I jumped to the other side and hammered the first floor button.

 The elevator shuddered to life as Adrian lost his grip, and the outer doors broke apart in the large man’s hands.

 The elevator descended as the two men made to dive in with us. Adrian raised the revolver and fired, dissuading the first with a bullet to the chest.

 I took a deep breath when they missed their chance to get in. I hadn’t even noticed I was holding it in.

 Adrian leaned back against the side wall and slid down to the floor, wincing as he did, and panting. He began picking shards of glass out of his hands and knees. Blood streaked the wall behind him.

 The elevator took its sweet time rumbling down the shaft. I watched the two men through the iron-grated ceiling crouch in the opening about a floor above us now.

 “What do you think they’re doing?” I asked Adrian, pointing at the two men.

 He looked, cocked his head for a second, closed his eyes and sighed, before erupting into a flurry of motion, kicking his feet around. He wrapped my legs with his own and pulled me down.

 The world went sideways as I fell back onto Adrian’s chest, where he pinned my head onto his shoulder and locked my legs down with his.

 “What the hell are you—” I started to yell, noticing movement through the grating above.

 One of the large men jumped down the shaft, crashing onto the iron roof with a grunt of pain.

 I screamed.

 The elevator shuddered violently, making terrible screeching noises as sparks flew from metal on metal.

 But, nothing happened. It continued to inch down while the large man on the roof howled in rage at the iron that kept him from his prey.

 I heard, “Well, that was anticlima—” in my ear as the second man landed on the iron grate, snapping the cable in a horrible sound of ripping, screeching thunder.

 I screamed again.

 Then I was weightless.

Chapter Eleven

 My lungs filled with fire as I tried to breathe. I tasted blood in my mouth. Dust hung in the air, stinging my eyes. With short, choking gasps, I tried to pull in as much air as I could, coughing violently. But I was breathing. There was nothing more terrifying than not being able to breathe, falling elevators aside.

 I looked at the grated roof above. Well, what remained of it. The air was thick with dust, but I could see the criss-cross pattern of iron, now bent and going off in all directions. Several bits of metal were broken and hanging into the elevator above me. Above us.

 “Adrian!” I panicked, kneeling to the floor where he lay on his side. Hadn’t he held me against him? I crawled to him and my hand slipped. On the floor, right in the middle where Adrian had held me, was a bright red circle now smeared under my hand.

 I felt the back of Adrian’s head and my other hand came away bloody.

 We must have bounced. That’s how I was thrown to the far side.

 Oh my god. He knew it would fall so he pulled me down to shield me from the impact. He’d taken all of it.

 “Adrian. Adrian, get up,” I said, rolling him over onto his back. I worried there could be spinal damage, but I needed to move him. We couldn’t stay here.

 His eyes were open, and panicked. He convulsed, clutching his chest without a sound. He couldn’t breathe.

 I pinched his nose shut, took a deep breath, which still burned, sealed my lips to his, and blew as hard as I could to fill his lungs.

 He convulsed, kicking and flailing, and I pulled back as he sat up. He reached out to my face, his eyes darting back and forth everywhere.