Page 81 of Blood Money

Alex.

Gray pounded down the hall to the next door. He grabbed the latch and pushed against the door with his shoulder. It didn’t budge. He slammed his body against it again and again.

“Alex,” he shouted, “get away from the door and stay on the floor.” He hoped to hell that she heard him because the only way he was getting in was by destroying the lock. He aimed and began shooting up the wood surrounding the door’s lock. When he emptied the gun’s magazine, he kicked at the door. It gave slightly, cracking, but still wouldn’t open.

Gray ejected the empty magazine and inserted a fully loaded one. He racked in a round then emptied the second magazine into the lock. He kicked at the door again and it swung open. Thick smoke billowed into the hallway. Visibility was down to a few inches.

Gray covered his face with his arm, coughing. With every inhalation, his lungs burned.

Flames licked up the wall, the only thing providing any light. He hit the floor low, crawling on his hands and knees, still gripping his gun. “Alex! Call out if you can hear me.”

Inching forward, he searched the floor, extending his arms in every direction to cover more ground. The butt of his gun bumped against something soft. A body.

For a moment, his heart stilled.

He felt the body with his free hand.

A man’s body.

A bullet hole identified cause of death. He swallowed hard, relieved at the realization this was not Alex.

Gray crept along the floor, which was hot beneath his hands and beginning to burn his knees straight through his pants. Sweat poured off his face and down his arms. All around him, the fire roared like a freight train.

The barrel of his gun bumped against something. A table. To his immediate left, someone coughed, although the sound was muted.

“Alex!” he shouted. “Call out!”

“…here,” she cried.

She’s alive.

But where?

He spun in every direction, trying to get a bead on her location, seeing nothing. “Where are you?” he shouted.

“Under the floor.” She coughed. “Root cellar.”

Gray holstered his gun and ran his hands along the floor to feel for what he couldn’t see. His right hand made contact with something metal and hot.

A ring.

He yanked on it, burning his hand, and pulled up the piece of wood covering the root cellar. He could barely see Alex huddled below him on the cellar’s dirt floor.

“Give me your hand.” He extended his arm as low as possible until she grabbed onto his hand. He hauled her up and out of the cellar, realizing her hands and feet were bound with duct tape. When he picked her up in his arms, she moaned then coughed again.

“Gray!” Dom called out.

“We’re here.” Gray coughed. “I’ve got her, but I can’t see a damn thing. Keep talking,” he shouted.

“Over here. Keep moving toward me.” Dom, too, began coughing. “Keep coming, keep coming. Over here.”

Gray’s eyes stung. His lungs burned. He followed Dom’s voice until an opening appeared in the wall of flames. Dom was there.

“Let me take her.” Dom held out his arms.

“No.” Gray held on tightly to Alex’s now unmoving body. “She’s mine.”

She is. Mine, he realized in that moment.