Chapter Ten

She didn’t look up from her screen. “I’m almost done. Maybe thirty minutes.”

They barely had thirty seconds, forget thirty minutes. “Now, Kitten.”

She still didn’t stop typing. “Really, I only need—”

Her protest morphed into a yelp as he wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her from the seat.

“Ballard has been keeping you online to give his men time to get here. They’re outside. We’ve got to go.”

He set her down and she spun to face him. “What?”

“Ballard’s men. Outside. I think that’s what the firewall reversing was all about. They traced you here, and they’re probably going to kill you.”

He pulled open the backpack and shoved it into her hands. Khan bristled at the sight of the bag but allowed himself to be put inside. Luke zipped it almost the entire way, then loosened the straps and put it on his shoulders. He’d be able to run faster with it.

“We need to go out the employee exit.” Taking Claire’s hand, he rushed with her along the back wall.

At the door, they kept to the side as he looked out the window.

Damn it. Luke spotted two men before pulling his head back. Ballard’s men had the library surrounded and it wouldn’t be long before they breached the building.

He cursed under his breath. There would be no quick getaway.

“What?” she whispered.

“They’ve got us surrounded. They’re covering both doors.”

“What are we going to do?”

His mind raced. They needed a distraction. Calling the police wasn’t an option, but...

He pulled the burner out of his pocket and dialed.

“9-1-1,” the dispatcher answered, “what’s your emergency?”

Luke took a couple of shallow breaths to make himself sound more panicked. “The Wars Hill library is on fire. Oh my gosh, it’s spreading so fast. Please hurry.” He hung up before the dispatcher could ask any further questions.

Claire’s eyes widened. “Are we going to start a fire?”

“No, but the fire trucks and paramedics will be here soon. Hopefully, that’ll chase off Ballard’s men and we’ll get away in the confusion.”

She looked skeptical, and he couldn’t blame her. He fought back a tiny smile at the sight of her. Her brown wig had gotten pretty twisted and wisps of blond hair kissed the corners of her face. Once again, she looked like the little girl he’d known.

Little girl or grown woman, there was no way in hell he was letting Ballard’s men get her.

The sound of a lock breaking and the emergency alarm being smashed to eliminate the noise echoed through the library. Luke grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the display in the children’s section.

They barely made it inside before they heard voices.

“Check every aisle,” a man called. “They’re in here somewhere.”

Luke pulled Claire’s stiff form against him. He cocked his head, trying to figure out exactly how many men there were as they talked. Three? Four?

He was a good shot, but he wouldn’t have much chance at getting them all before they got shots off themselves.

A ringing phone only a few feet away from the display made Claire jerk. Luke tugged her closer to him, wrapping his fingers around her nape, massaging gently. It was over for them if she had some sort of panic attack now.

“Hello?” one of the men answered. Brief silence followed. “Damn it. We haven’t found them. Maybe they got out before we got here, but there’s not going to be enough time for a thorough search.” More silence. “Yes, sir.”

The man yelled louder, “Fire department is en route thanks to a 9-1-1 call. ETA less than five.”

“Bathrooms and employee rooms are clear,” another voice responded from farther away. “No sign of them.”

“We don’t have enough time to search thoroughly. But we’ll give the fire department a real fire to fight and cover the exits. There’s a gas canister in the van. Have Brickman bring it in. Hurry.”

Damn it, Luke had handed the bad guys exactly what they needed by placing that emergency call.

The best bet was still to stay put. Getting out in the chaos of the fire would give them a better chance of survival than facing their guns.

The smell of gas a minute later had Luke reconsidering that notion. Then the pungent smell of smoke.

“Make sure we’ve got both doors covered. We’ll get them running out or when the fire department brings out their charred bodies.” The voices faded as the smell of smoke grew stronger.

“What do we do?” Claire’s pitch was high and her breathing was way too rapid.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Just wait a minute.” They had to make sure no one was still inside the building.

Their best bet was to stay alive until the firefighters arrived, and then they could get out with them. More witnesses equaled more protection.

But that was easier said than done. The smoke invading the air caused all his survival instincts to kick into overdrive. His feet ached to run.

“Luke?”

“They have to be gone by now. We’re going to keep low and crawl out.” He pushed aside the display so he could crawl out.

They moved on their hands and knees, Khan meowing pathetically from the bag slung over his back.

“Which door are we using?” She coughed into her hand.

“We have to stay here and wait for the fire department.”

He had to give her credit; she didn’t give in to hysteria. “Will we make it that long?”

“We have to. If we go out either door now,” he said, “they’ll shoot us on sight.”

She was right, the fire was spreading too fast for them to be able to breathe by the time the fire department arrived, even if it was just a couple of minutes. This place was an arsonist’s dream.

They both had pulled their shirts to cover their mouths, but even low to the ground, the smoke was getting thicker. The heat from the burning books surrounded them from all directions.

They were going to have to exit. Take their chances.

“We’re going to go out the front door.” He put his lips right next to her ear so she could hear him. “You stay behind me and then run for the nearest emergency worker.”

Her whole body was shaking. “They’ll shoot. They’ll shoot you first to get to me.”

“It’s a chance we’ll have to take. They’re covering the doors, but we can’t stay in here.”

Her eyes grew larger. “Wait. I have an idea. Follow me.”

She scurried off toward the back of the building. He almost stopped her—going out the front where there were potentially more people was probably a better plan. But then she turned toward the western end of the building.

The bathrooms. That might buy them a little bit of time, but it might trap them.

He grabbed her ankle where she crawled in front of him. She turned. “The bathrooms might trap us,” he yelled to be heard over the fire.

She yelled something back, but he could only make out one word, but it was the most important one.

Window .

They made it inside, the thinner smoke allowing them to stand and breathe a little easier. Luke unzipped the backpack and let Khan out, grabbing the clothing that had lined the bottom and stuffing it in the crack at the door. It would buy them a little more time.

“There’s a window in the storage closet.” She pointed at a closed door. “I used it once when I was maxed out on my book checkouts but had another story I really wanted to read. But I returned it.”

Even in the middle of all this, she actually looked embarrassed that she’d stolen a book.

Luke didn’t waste any time; he moved to the door and when he found it locked, he kicked it near the knob.

One look at the window had him swallowing a curse. He was sure eleven-year-old Claire had made it through with her stolen book. Adult Claire was going to be a tighter fit, but she would make it. Him?

Claire chewed her bottom lip. “Wow. That’s a lot smaller than I remember...”

“You’ll fit.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll fit, too.”

He grabbed the large flashlight in the corner of the closet and wrapped it in a shirt, using it to break the window as quietly as possible. Ballard’s men probably wouldn’t be looking for them in this direction, but there was no point in drawing their attention.

It broke with the second hit and he cleared the glass out as much as possible. “You need to go first. I’ll hoist you up. Watch the edges.”

When he whirled around, she was holding Khan out to him.

Of course she was.

“Come on, cat.” Khan knew what to do and scurried through the window to safety. There were no sounds from the outside, a good sign.

He turned back to Claire, linking his hands together so she could step into them. It took barely any effort to hoist her up, and she slid through the opening without difficulty.

His turn.

Grabbing hold of the window’s bottom frame, he pulled himself up. Little bits of glass pricked his palms, but he ignored the pain and wiggled into the window until his shoulders got stuck.

Damn it.

He had to ease himself back into the closet to come at the window from another angle. The smoke was getting bad. If he couldn’t make it through, he might not be getting out of this building at all.

He pulled himself up again, twisting to make himself as narrow as possible through the shoulders. He bit back a curse at the sharp pain ripping through his shirt and into his flesh—a piece of glass that had shifted. There was nowhere to get away from it, so he pulled his shoulders the rest of the way through, gritting his teeth at the burn.

Once his shoulders were out, the rest was slightly easier. Twisting again, he used the wall to give himself leverage. By the time he was all the way out, he could feel the blood soaking his shirt and was barely able to keep from coughing from the smoke inhalation.

He sucked in a deep breath. There would be time later to rest and worry about his wound. Right now, he needed to get them out of here. “Let’s head for the bushes, Kitten.”

When there was no response, he looked in both directions but didn’t see any sign of Claire. Ignoring his screaming shoulder, he moved to rise.

And stopped at a voice that definitely wasn’t Claire’s.

“Don’t move and keep your hands where I can see them.”