Banished Souls MC (24 page)

Chapter 8

Paul

Someone had found them.

Paul put his hands up and placed them firmly on the door. Maybe he could slow them down? Let Lydia escape. He could try and pull the man inside the room when he entered, let Lydia get past them. Or he could jump out now, and try and take the man down.

Paul's heart was now pounding hard. His adrenaline had shot up his senses, every detail around him crisp and heightened.

Another shout, from the same position outside the door. But this time they heard someone push at the fire escape handles, which only rattle with movement, the chains and lock keeping it securely closed.

They don't know we are here, Paul thought. Yet.

Glancing around, he found a narrow piece of shelving against the wall next to his leg. He grabbed it, being careful not to make any noise. He motioned Lydia to move back, not that there really was anywhere she could go. Holding the shelving up in one hand, he grasped the door handle.

If the person outside intended on coming in here, Paul was going to surprise them. The turning of the door handle would give him barely a second to react, pull open the door and try and brain the other guy.

Good plan, Paul, he thought. Your flimsy piece of wood against a lunatic with a machine gun. This will end well.

Paul pushed aside those negative thoughts. He stayed focused on the door handle, ready for it to move.

He sensed Lydia next to him, in the cramped space. Thankfully, despite the initial shock of the situation, she had settled down. Now she seemed almost like she was ready to fight, too.

Then, from somewhere deeper in the building came another voice.

The person outside cursed, or at least it sounded like it could be, all angry. Then he heard the man move back down the hall streaming more angry words.

After a few moments, the man's voice faded away, moving off to another part of the complex.

Paul counted to ten. Then he released the handle and lowered the shelving. Both he and Lydia exhaled.

Lydia was blinking hard, obviously relieved.

"That was close," Paul said. He glanced up at the window, only to see how disappointingly small it was.

"Did you understand what he was saying?" Lydia said.

Paul gave a small shrug. "Not really. I recognize it as Tagalog. He's Filipino. But as to what he was saying I have no idea."

"He sounded mad. Like real mad." Lydia said, casting a concerned look at the door, as if it might burst open suddenly with an angry Filipino arriving to prove her right.

"He didn't find what he was looking for. Not yet at least," he said.

"Us?"

"Me," he said, and frowned. "They're here for me. The rich guy. Has to be. This can't be just a random encounter. Not here. Not now."

Lydia considered this. "Wow. That really, really sucks."

Paul nodded in agreement. But they didn't have time to think on the men's motives, for which Paul was certain of anyways. They needed to figure out what to do.

"So, now what?" Lydia said, as if reading his thoughts.

He considered, chewing on his lower lip. "Well, I don't think hiding in here is an option."

"I don't know," Lydia said, giving the tiny room a look over. "It has a rustic feel to it. Real homey."

Paul shook his head. "It's only a matter of time before they do a proper search of the complex. Go from room to room. Floor to floor."

"That is a lot of rooms. The main complex has several hundred, including the two basements."

"Which is a good thing, it will buy us some extra time. I think the smart move is to just get as far away from here as possible. Like to the other side of the island, maybe."

"Can't get far on an island."

"Yes, but I prefer my odds out there, than in here," he said, looking meaningfully at the door. "Where ever we hide in here, we'll be boxed in. Not ideal."

As if struck with a thought, Lydia pulled out her cell phone and checked it. Paul did the same.

His screen was active, but the signal was dead. Considering the cost of this model that should not happen at all.

"Still no signal," Lydia said.

"They are blocking us. This just makes me think that this was planned. They knew I was coming here. I just don't know how."

Lydia visibly blanched. "It was not me. I swear on a stack of bibles that I had nothing -"

Paul held up his hand to stop her, and grinned. "I know that. Don't worry. But there had to be another angle, something they managed to exploit."

He shrugged. "It could have been anything, really. But this is a line of thought that won't help us now. We need to be moving."

Lydia looked down at the keys in her hand. Quickly, she went through them. She held up a group of a half dozen keys. "One of these might be it."

"Might be?"

"Yeah. None are marked fire escape, second level. They are just small padlock keys."

"You have to go through each, one by one?"

"Yup."

"And unwrap the chain?"

"Yup."

"And open the old creaky fire escape door?"

"Yup."

"Without being seen or heard the entire time?"

"Yup."

Paul grinned. "Sounds like a plan, captain."

Lydia stifled a laugh. Which Paul thought was a good sign. At least she was no longer in a state of shock.

"Okay, then. Ready?" Paul said as he gripped the door handle again.

"Ready," she said. "Oh, wait!"

Paul had started to turn the handled and stopped in alarm. "What?"

"Once were are outside where do we go?"

Paul took a second to consider, then said, "Anywhere they're not."

Lydia nodded. "Okay. I like your plan."

Paul turned the handle the rest of the way, then pried the door open a sliver. Holding his breathe, he peeked out.

There wasn't an angry Filipino, waving a machine gun, waiting to pounce on them.

He opened the door a fraction more, then eased out a little and peered down the hall.

It was completely empty, all the way to the far east end. No one was there. Which didn't mean anything. They could already be searching the rooms on this level. Paul wouldn't know until they stepped out into the hallway. Then it would be to late.

"Anything?" Lydia whispered from beside him.

"No. All clear," he said, and took a step out into the hall.

It was very quiet, eerily so. Maybe the men had moved off to another location to search. It didn't matter. He and Lydia had to leave. But going back down the hall, and down the stairs to the front entrance was to crazy to contemplate.

"Okay," he said. "Give it a try."

Lydia moved out of the hall, glancing briefly toward the stairs. Then she stood in front of the fire escape door and gripped the padlock. She already had a key in her grip and tried it.

Paul kept watch, keeping himself directly behind her, so if anyone started shooting, they would hit him instead of her.

Lydia mumbled a curse when the key didn't work. She tried another.

Paul's mind was racing. Was this a planned attack? How the heck could they have known he was coming here, if he didn't even think of it until a couple of days earlier?

He had previously hired a security firm to handle all his travelling, but over the years it just seemed more of a hindrance than a necessity. If you were a rich target, what better indication than having some bodyguards shadowing your every move?

No, he changed his mind. Hiding in plain sight felt better. At least then he could blend into a crowd, or move about without drawing attention to himself.

But now, he didn't seem to sure. Perhaps, this could have been avoided if he had kept the body guards. He recalled the number of men outside and their fierce armaments. Well, a lot of body guards. And a tank.

Lydia cursed again. "They didn't work. Should I keep trying?"

"Yeah, keep at it. No point hiding again." He tried to sound sure of himself, but if he was being honest, he had no idea if this course of action was the right one. How could he know? How could anyone?

Well, other than maybe bodyguards.

Lydia started to try another set of keys. He was impressed with how she had recovered from her initial shock. Now she was just as bound and determined to get out of here as he was. Cowering in a corner wasn't going to solve anything.

He was then struck with a morbid thought. The men were here for him, that was for certain. But they weren't here for Lydia. She was just a bystander. Someone that got in the way. And if they let her live, a potential witness.

Paul frowned at this. For all intents and purposes Lydia would be seen as a liability. Disposable.

No, he thought. He wasn't going to let it get to that point. She would not be harmed. He wouldn't let it. No matter what that cost him - whether that be money or his life.

There came a sound from what Paul thought was the direction of the stairway. Shouting?

"Got it!" Lydia said, joy obvious in her voice.

More voices from the foyer now, he was certain of it. A large group was here now.

He didn't mention the voices, and instead said, "Okay, lets get this chain off." Against his will, he turned his back to the hallway and the growing shouts and tried to help Lydia unwrap the chains from the door handles.

It was a tangled mess. Paul started sweating, hands fumbling about.

"Let me," Lydia said, pushing him aside. She quickly managed the little puzzle of the wrapped chain, and it started to unravel.

Paul bent down to catch the chain, so it didn't clatter to the floor.

More voices. He couldn't tell if they were closer or not. He felt he might be starting to panic. They would be seen at any moment.

Finally, the chain gave way, and the door handles were clear. Paul eased the chain into a little pile on the floor. Lydia had put her hand on the push handle. She swallowed once, then gently pushed at it.

For whatever reason, the door suddenly popped open with a loud squawk!

Paul and Lydia cursed in unison.

More voices from behind them. They had to have heard the door.

"Go!" he hissed, not looking back.

Lydia moved quickly out the open fire escape door with Paul right behind her.

Chapter 9

Lydia

They were outside.

Lydia's heart had returned to her throat, pounding away at an insane speed. She looked around.

The fire escape they stood on was old, and its metal was rusted.   Steep stairs went up to the third floor, while the stairs also descended down to the ground level. Below, through its metal grating, she could see a small concrete landing next to another door. Bushes and trees cluttered up against the building's wall, as if the jungle was trying to claim the resort for itself.

Directly across from them was the jungle canopy, thick and green, and seemingly impenetrable. Below and to the north she could make out the rooftops of bungalows and other buildings.

Thankfully, there was no one else around.

"I think they may have seen us," Paul said, from beside her. He still held the piece of shelving, but this time he was trying to wedge it in between the doorhandles. "This might slow them."

"What now?" Lydia asked, and felt foolish. She knew what now, but wanted him to tell her.

"Get to the ground," he said, finally jamming the wood into place. "Hurry." He was still speaking in hushed tones. Someone outside might hear them.

She moved to the narrow stairs. Fear still gripped her, as her movements were stilted and almost robotic. She started to descend, gripping the railing for support. She didn't want to pitch forward or over the side.

The metal of the fire escape rattled and creaked. It seemed secure, but just old and neglected. The stairs were a single long flight down the side of the wall to the ground, and every step she took caused the stairs to wobble more.

She looked back to see Paul had only descended a couple of stairs. He was looking at the door.

"Come on," she hissed. What was he doing? Did he have it in his mind to try and stop whoever might come through the door? No, she thought. He was thinking of just slowing them down to give her time to escape.

"Don't!" she said. "Let's go!" she said.

Paul looked from the door to her. Whatever crazy plan he had he must of decided against it. He kept climbing down the stairs toward her.

Relieved, Lydia climbed down the rest of the creaky stairs. At the bottom, her feet touched solid concrete. She crouched down, and leaned against the wall. There was another fire escape door here, identical to the one above. She doubted anyone would come through it as it, too, would be chained and padlocked from the other side.

Thick, high bushes and small trees crowded up against the wall here, providing ample cover for her to hide. When she tried to listen all she could here was the noise of the jungle itself, and the creaking of the fire escape as Paul descended.

In moments, he was crouching down beside her.

"What were you doing up there?" she asked.

Paul offered a small shrug. "Thought I could surprise them, or something. Buy you time to get away."

"Not a good idea," she said and tried to look annoyed. But really, she felt touched at his gesture. She felt some relief that he was looking out for her, and not running off on his own and abandoning her. He certainly wasn't that kind of person, she knew.

She said, "Okay, now where - ".

Someone crashed against the door above them. It appeared the wood in the handles held firm. For the moment.

Paul grabbed her hand. "Gotta move," he said, and they were off.

Still crouching they hurried north along the wall, keeping low. The bushes and trees were tall here and kept them hidden from view.

As they approached the corner of the building Paul stopped. Behind them, the fire escape door rattle violently. Someone was kicking or pushing against it. The next one would let them through.

Paul glanced around the corner of the building. Lydia turned to look back up at the fire escape, but was suddenly pulled along again by Paul.

The fire escape door exploded open. Lydia caught a quick glance of a man stepping onto the fire escape, and then her view was obscured by the corner of the building. Paul was taking them along at an angle so they would not be seen.

At the back of the resort building was a huge, wide balcony that stretched across almost half its width. Debris and leaves covered every inch.

Paul kept them to the edge of it, not daring to cross as it was a wide open space. Instead, he was leading them toward a cluster of bungalows a short distance ahead.

Lydia's head was swivelling around, trying to see if they had been spotted. The rushing of the wind in her ears, and the rattling of leaves at their feet, kept her from getting a clear idea if anyone was near them.

As they entered the space between two bungalows, Lydia looked back. She gasped.

A man was now standing at the corner of the building, exactly where they had been moments before. And he was looking right at her. Then she moved out of view.

"He saw us!" she said.

"Keep going," Paul said. They were moving along the side of a bungalow. "We'll try and lose him in the jungle."

It sounded like a good plan to Lydia's panicked mind. Of course, it was their only plan.

Paul checked around the corner of the bungalow, glancing in both directions. Lydia could feel the other man approaching them from behind. He would be there in seconds.

Then they saw the last of the buildings, and the jungle beyond. Once there, she was certain they would be safer.

Suddenly, from behind she heard a shout. She turned her head, still running.

The man was behind them now, pistol in hand. He was very close, and at a full run. He was getting closer. There was no time to get into the jungle.

They weren't going to make it.