The McClane Apocalypse Book Five (39 page)

“Something reflected, like a mirror,” he
tells her honestly as he spies through the lenses.

He replaces the binoculars to his pocket and
slides backward to her again.

“There’s something in the fourth floor
window,” he declares.

“What is it?”

Cory looks at her directly and says, “Not
sure. Could be a beacon for help. It’s definitely a mirror catching
the sunlight. Someone could’ve put it there on purpose to call for
help.”

“Oh,” Paige says with concern.

“I should check it out. They might need
help,” he says.

“Ok, let’s go,” she says and starts to rise.
Cory pulls her back down beside him.

“You should stay here or I can hide you
somewhere. I don’t know if you should be with me. People might’ve
put that mirror there for help because they’ve been overrun or are
being held against their will.”

Paige’s eyes jump to his with fear, “Please,
don’t leave me here, Cory. I don’t want to stay by myself. I can
help. I’ll help you. I can watch your back.”

He grimaces, looks out to the horizon and
finally nods. “Stay very close. Watch corners. Watch dark spots.
Don’t wander away from me.”

Paige nods and immediately starts
doubting her own decision. Too late now. They rise and move out
together. She’s on his tail every step of the way to the side
entrance of the small medical building. He pulls the door, finds it
locked. It isn’t a door he can
simply
kick in. It is solid steel and heavy. The lock on the
doorknob is secured from the inside. He whips out a small tin box
from his pants pocket and proceeds to pick it like some sort of sly
cat burglar. It only takes about a full minute before they are
granted entrance. She stays close again. The building is dark where
they are. A narrow spray of light is coming from somewhere further
inside the building.

Cory takes her to a stairwell, and she
tries not to cringe as the sound of water dripping and
pinging
high above trickles down to her
ears. A dark
stairwell
. Great.
She always tried to avoid these kinds of intensely dark, dank
places when she was out on the road. Cory doesn’t seem to mind it,
though. He pulls out a flashlight and his sidearm, which he
positions over the light. They move inside, staying close to the
walls and slinking slowly upward. When they come to the fourth
floor, Cory halts, switches off the light and stands there a few
moments listening.

“Here we go,” he says quietly. “Stay with
me.”

“Right,” she whispers.

He eases open the door as quietly as he can
manage and steps through. This part of the building seems as
abandoned as the areas on the first floor. She doesn’t hear anyone
talking or moving around. Paige looks to her right where a window
at the end of the hallway is broken out, maybe from a storm or a
tree branch possibly. She’s not sure. Cory indicates to their left,
and they slowly move that way. He’s still holding his pistol, his
rifle resting against his back.

A ping behind them causes her heart to
nearly skip a beat. They both swing in that direction. Nothing is
there, but Cory stares down the hall for
nearly
a full minute waiting patiently just in
case. Then he looks at her and nods. His eyes seem
worried.

They walk down the hall finding nothing
out of the ordinary for an empty building. Cory pushes open one of
the doors, and they go in. He walks straight to the broken window
and finds the slice of mirror hanging there suspended by a string.
He spins and looks around the long room with
great
interest. She’s not sure what he’s looking
for. It seems to be some sort of former study center or miniature
medical library. Bookshelves line the walls with thick,
leather-bound books turning green with mold.

“The Professor would love this place,” Cory
remarks about her brother.

“I think you’re right,” Paige agrees, looking
at the journals.

Several desks with chairs are scattered here
and there. A few of the chairs are tipped onto their sides. It
seems as if drifters have crashed here before, probably just for a
night or two. The remnants of a temporary stay is still visible. A
tattered pillow has been left behind. In the adjacent room, a
threadbare blanket lies on top of what was probably an expensive
oriental rug. The additional room is connected by an open doorway
and an ornate wooden archway that connects the two spaces. Cobwebs
hang down from the lovely woodwork. A few empty cans that used to
contain beans or vegetables are scattered around. It doesn’t seem
as if anyone has been in this area for quite some time. Cory scouts
out the same rooms and then checks down the hall again. He returns
to the window and glances furtively without standing directly in
the middle of it.

“Movement,” Cory announces.

“What? Where?” Paige asks and rushes to stand
next to him at the window.

“A few dudes,” he informs her.

He’s pointing in the distance to three men
moving toward a different building than the one which they are in.
They are maybe two hundred yards out, closing in on the same route
that she and Cory just took. They seem to be moving with a
purpose.

“I don’t think they’re coming here. Not sure,
though,” Cory tells her.

“Should we keep looking around?”

“I don’t think so. It’s time to get out of
here,” he says as he continues to look down at the other
people.

“Are we going to follow them?”

“Nah, not with you hanging out with me today.
Could be…crowded,” he jokes and hits her with his dark gaze.

Paige isn’t so sure she wants to pursue those
people, either. She’s relieved he doesn’t want to track them down.
She knows what he’s been doing for the last year of his life and
has no wish to join in on that sort of merriment.

“What do you want to do?”

“Not stick around to make friends, unless
you’re that desperate for a boyfriend, red,” he says, glancing at
her with a wink.

“No thanks,” Paige says with a wrinkle of her
nose as she watches the men pick up the pace and start jogging. She
wonders if they are jogging toward something or away from
someone.

“Let’s move,” he orders and starts toward the
other room.

Apparently they are going back out of
the building in a different direction than they came in it. She
follows him, skirts around a knocked over table to her right, steps
on the once lovely rug that has faded and molded just slightly at
the edges. She goes through the floor with a scream of pure terror
as the rug drops out from underneath her and her stomach plummets,
as well. Paige grabs onto anything she can find. Before she
plummets
to her death, she panics and
grasps onto a piece of cable wire hanging down.

“Paige!” she hears Cory yell in haste.

She’s dropped her rifle somewhere,
probably down to the next floor. When she looks down frantically,
she can see that the
floor
below
has a matching hole and the ones below it mirror them. The gaping
holes are maybe eight to ten feet in diameter. Her grip slips and
she squirms to find a better hold. If she lets go, she’s going to
fall to her death. She looks down again. There are dead bodies down
at the bottom of the hole to Hell. Something about this scenario
frightens her even more than the potential fall to death. How did
this
hole
get broken all the way
through to the ground level? Had something fallen through the
building? Why was the rug covering it?

“Don’t look down!” Cory shouts down to her.
“Gimme your hand. I can reach you.”

Paige doesn’t even look up. She’s too afraid
to look up for fear of losing her grip. She’s swaying back and
forth in the air. Her legs are dangling, causing her trouble
keeping a tight grip. Her hands are sweating. Then she starts to
slip.

“Give me your hand, Paige,” he calls down
with panic in his voice. “Come on, kid. Give me your hand. I’ll
pull you up. Just look up and reach.”

Tears threaten to escape her eyes. She
finally glances up into Cory’s face.

“I can’t,” she cries, squirming to hold fast.
“I’m slipping.”

“Trust me. You’re all right. You’ve got it.
Just reach for my hand, Paige,” he says in a calmer voice. “Easy
now.”

His hand is only maybe two inches from hers.
The fear she feels clenching her gut at the idea of tumbling to her
death is outweighed by her fear of letting go of the security she
feels holding onto her lifeline. But her common sense wins out. She
nods and reaches for his grip. He grabs her tightly, firmly which
makes her feel safer than just holding onto a wire. There is so
much raw strength in his hand that she knows he can pull her up out
of danger. The veins in his forehead stand out. His hair has come
loose of the ponytail and hangs down partially in his face. He
pulls her an inch higher. He’s lying on his stomach near the edge
of the hole. To Paige, he seems like he weighs a lot. She hopes the
jagged edge of the floor doesn’t give out and collapse the rest of
the way under his weight. Cory switches hands and takes her by the
wrist instead of her hand.

“That’s it,” he assures her, a bead of sweat
running down his forehead. “I’ve got you.”

He starts pulling her upward in a smooth
motion right as she sees a man come up behind him.

Chapter Sixteen

Sam

After checking out the area from a nearby
rooftop and then circling the block a few times, Simon maneuvers
the Suburban into a parking deck across the street from Nashville
General Hospital and parks it on the lowest level in a dark area
where it won’t be noticed among the other abandoned vehicles there.
He pulls in beside a Mercedes S class, a sleek black coupe that
likely belonged to a doctor who used to work in the hospital. Sam’s
mother used to have a Mercedes like that. She swallows the lump of
hard memories in her throat and helps Simon look around to ensure
they are alone.

On the other side of them is a rusty
pick-up truck equipped with wood-slatted side rails for carrying
tall items. He cuts the engine, and they wait in silence. The only
movement she catches is a pigeon scurrying along a cement wall to
their west backlit by the midday sun coming through. The level they
are on, however, is nearly pitch dark. It’s
a
good
thing. That alone will deter people from looting
for a vehicle. Everyone knows there aren’t any more available,
operable vehicles with gas still in them. This fact will also help
to deter theft.

Sam says, “My uncle used to work here.”

“Really? The uncle that made sure you and
your brothers and sister got vaccines when the country collapsed?”
he asks with interest.

“Yes,” she replies softly. “My mom’s brother.
He was really sweet. Uncle Scott was his name. I liked him a lot.
He wasn’t married, but he had a girlfriend. He lived here in a
high-rise in the city.”

“What happened to him? Do you know?” Simon
asks hesitantly.

“My dad came over here to get him a few weeks
after the first tsunami, but he wouldn’t leave his job at the
hospital, even when it started getting dangerous,” she says and
pauses for a long moment before continuing. “My dad came back a
couple months after things fell all the way. You know, when it got
really bad? My mom was worried because we couldn’t get in touch
with him anymore. The phone lines were down at that point, no
computers, no cell phones, nothing worked anymore. My dad took my
brother and came over here. Uncle Scott was gone. I don’t even know
why or where.”

“Did he leave a note or anything?”

“No, he was just gone. His stuff from his
house was mostly still there, but some of the essential items like
food and bottled water were missing. He just disappeared. It was
really weird ‘cuz him and Mom used to be so close. Kind of like you
and Paige.”

Simon frowns. “Maybe he tried to get to you
guys.”

Sam understands that he is attempting to
offer hope.

She just shrugs and says, “I don’t know. It
wasn’t long after that when Frank’s group raided our house. Maybe
he came to our place, but we were already…gone.”

“Taken,” Simon whispers and checks his
handgun.

Sam has picked up on his need to move, to get
out of the vehicle and away from the conversation that will lead
them down into a rabbit hole of bad memories. She mimics his
movements and prepares her own weapons. He gives her a nod when
they are both ready. Simon gets out of the SUV without making a lot
of noise, shutting the car door while also pocketing the keys. Sam
goes around back to meet him at the tailgate.

“I know exactly where we need to go,” Simon
tells her.

“Me, too,” she says as they head out.

Simon gives her an inquisitive glance.

“Reagan told me where to go and what we need
to look for,” she says with a confident grin.

“Oh, so you’re in charge now?” Simon teases
quietly.

Normally
he
doesn’t joke around on a mission, but Sam’s recounting of her
likely dead uncle has probably made him feel guilty enough to want
to cheer her up.

She chuckles and says, “Yep, I’m in charge.
You report to me, sir.”

Simon smiles at her and shakes his head.
“Don’t I always?”

Sam shoots him a sly grin and
replies
, “Yes, of course you do,
silly.”

He leads her to the exit, and they jog across
the street to the hospital entrance. Nobody is around. This section
of Nashville was vetted the last time they came. She wasn’t with
him and Cory on that trip. She had wanted to go, but Reagan needed
her help at the clinic instead.