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“I need to get you out of here,” Keenan mutters, but he’s talking to himself.
“We need to see if the others are okay.” I twist my neck to see, but it’s all black. “Can we move now?”
“I think so.” He moves over top of me, placing his hands on the floor on either side of me and then pushing as though doing a pushup. “Go,” he grunts, and I realize he’s lifting whatever landed on us.
I stare around, then crawl toward daylight. When I’m free, I twist to look at Keenan who’s holding up what looks like a section of wall. He stands, shoving it away.
I look around in confusion, trying to make sense of what happened. There’s dust and debris everywhere. Did the building collapse? Then I catch sight of Spoon who’s laying crumpled on his side unmoving.
“Spoon!” I crawl toward him, reaching for his shoulder.
Keenan captures my fingers. “Don’t touch him yet.”
His brows are wrinkled as he moves around Spoon, examining him. He presses his fingers to Spoon’s neck. “He’s alive.” A groan slips from Spoon’s lips and he rolls onto his back.
There are no visible injuries. “Spoon, it’s Vanessa. Are you hurt?”
He groans, then blinks, dust catching in his eyelashes as they open. “I’m fine. Where’s Gerald?”
I peek over the edge of the stage at the front row, but gasp in shock when I find the chairs crushed under debris. When I look up, I see a gaping hole in the ceiling. Our friends were in those chairs!
“Spooner!” A harried looking Gerald rushes onto the stage and grabs Spoon, gripping him around the neck. “Thank god you’re okay.”
“I’ve never been happier to see your old face.” Spoon grips Gerald by the ears and kisses him.
“You two need to get out of here,” Keenan says, his gaze on the audience.
I turn into his shoulder with a cry. “There’s blood everywhere, Keenan!”
He crushes me against him, then says to Spoon. “Take her and get out of here. The building may collapse.”
“I’m not leaving without you.” I yank my arm from Spoon’s grip.
Keenan pushes me toward Spoon. “I don’t have time to argue. I have to get to Zach and Rachel and the others. I need you safe while I do that.”
“I can help,” I say quickly.
He lets out a growl, then says, “Fine, but stay close. If I give you an order, you do it. We don’t know who the attackers are or how many.”
“Attackers?” I ask faintly, then nod. “Let’s go.”
He takes my hand and leads me off the stage, helping me over a section of wall. “Zach!” I shout, searching the crowd. “Rachel!” People are rushing from the theatre, some helping others, while a few are crouched over the injured, some of them screaming in pain.
“Vanessa, Keenan, over here!” We hurry toward Zach, coughing as smoke and dust fill our lungs.
I drop to the floor next to Zach, a cry escaping my lips.
“I don’t know what to do.” He looks at me brokenly, lifting a small red fox. Her head lolls and her tongue hangs out. Her eyes are open, glassy.
“Oh Rachel.” Tears gather in my eyes.
“Give her to me.” Keenan takes her from Zach and lifts her to his good ear. “Her heart is beating.” He checks her mouth. “She’s not breathing.”
He places her on the ground and tilts her head, pushing her snout up. He wraps his big hand around it and leans over, breathing into the tunnel created by his fist.
I place my hand on her chest, feeling her heart. It’s fluttering weakly. “Come on, Rachel,” I plead. “Come back to us.”
Keenan breathes for her three more times, her chest rising and falling against my hand with each breath, then her eyelids flutter closed, then open again.
