Chapter 16

chapter

sixteen

The question hung in the air like a thunderclap, silencing all other conversations.

Rhiannon's heart sank as she watched Pierce's expression harden, his walls slamming back into place. He was on his feet in an instant, his body coiled with tension as he strode across the room. After a quick glance to check on Michael, she scrambled to her feet and followed.

Alan was standing in front of the safe, his face flushed with anger, a knife glinting dangerously in his hand.

Where the hell had he found that?

Will stood a few steps behind him, looking guilty. "I-I didn't mean to?—"

"Shut up," Alan snarled. Then to Dottie: "Open it."

Dottie crossed her arms over her chest. "No."

"Now!" he roared.

Dottie flinched but held her ground, her chin tilting up at a stubborn angle. "I'm not opening it."

Pierce took a step forward, his hands moving in rapid ASL.

Rhiannon moved forward with him, surprised at how steady her voice was as she translated: "Put the knife down, Alan. We can talk about this."

Alan's grip on the knife tightened, his knuckles turning white. "Stay out of this," he growled, not taking his eyes off Dottie. "This doesn't concern you. I want that gun."

Rhiannon's heart raced as she inched closer to Pierce. "What do we do?"

Alan's expression was manic.

Pierce's jaw clenched, his hazel eyes hard as steel. He signed, his movements sharp and precise.

"We're not giving you the gun, Alan," she translated. "You're not thinking clearly. Put the knife down before someone gets hurt."

He stabbed the knife in Pierce's direction. "I'm done listening to him!"

"Okay, then listen to me." She held up her hands and slid a step closer. She could all but hear Pierce's teeth grinding behind her. No doubt he was internally cursing, but she didn't see any other way to diffuse the situation. "Alan, please. We're all friends here. Think of your boys. Is this what you want them to learn from you?"

Alan's gaze flickered toward his sons, and a hint of uncertainty crossed his face.

"Just put the knife down, and let's talk?—"

His jaw clenched, and before she realized what was happening, he grabbed her arm and yanked her close. The cold steel of the knife pressed against her throat.

"No more talking. Open the safe," he hissed at Dottie, "or I swear to God, I'll?—"

A low, menacing growl rumbled through the room. Raszta appeared at Pierce's side, his corded fur bristling as he bared his teeth at Alan.

"Call off your dog," Alan snarled, pressing the knife harder against Rhiannon's throat.

The blade bit into her skin, drawing a drop of blood that slid hotly down her neck. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her breathing steady as she met Pierce's eyes. His face was a mask of barely contained fury, his muscles coiled tight.

She gave a tiny shake of her head, silently pleading with him not to do anything rash.

"Alan, please." Dottie's voice quavered. "Don't do this. Let Rhiannon go, and we can work this out."

"Open the damn safe!" Alan shouted, and his grip tightened painfully. The blade slid an inch, opening up a wider wound, and she choked on a sob.

Pierce growled much like his dog lunged forward, but Gareth caught him in a restraining grip. He grunted when Pierce's elbow plowed into his stomach, but he didn't let go.

"Do it, Dottie," he said through gritted teeth as he strained to keep Pierce under control. "Open the fucking safe."

"Oh, dear God," Dottie said and hurried forward, her hands shaking as she approached the safe. "Okay, okay! Just… just don't hurt her."

The room fell deathly silent as Dottie inputted the combination. The safe door swung open with a soft click that seemed to echo.

Alan shoved Rhiannon aside, sending her stumbling into Pierce's arms. In an instant, he was at the safe, rifling through its contents.

"Where is it?" he snarled, whirling back to face them. "Where's the gun?"

"I-I don't know," Dottie stammered, backing away. "It should be there..."

Alan's face contorted with rage. "You're lying!" he roared, lunging at Dottie with the knife raised.

Several things happened at once.

Raszta sprang forward, his powerful jaws clamping down on Alan's arm. Alan screamed in pain and fury, swinging the knife wildly. Pierce shoved Rhiannon behind him and dove for Alan's legs, tackling him to the ground. The knife clattered across the floor.

In the chaos, no one noticed one of Alan's twins slip toward the safe until it was too late. He yanked the gun free from where Dottie had concealed it in her waistband. "Dad, it's here! I found it!"

All eyes snapped toward the sound. The boy stood trembling with the gun gripped in both hands.

"Austin, put that down," Lori screeched and surged toward her son.

Austin's eyes darted frantically between her and his father. "I-I can't," he choked out. "He needs it. To protect us."

"Son," Alan wheezed from beneath Pierce's iron grip. "Give it to your mom. Now."

Austin's finger twitched on the trigger.

"No!" Rhiannon lunged forward just as the gun went off.

An ominous rumble followed the crack of the gunshot. Bits of plaster rained down as a spiderweb of cracks spread across the ceiling.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still.

Then, the ceiling gave way.

Pierce's body slammed into Rhiannon, shielding her as chunks of plaster and wood crashed down around them. Dust filled the air, choking and blinding. Screams and shouts echoed through the chaos, barely audible over the collapse.

When the rumbling finally stopped, an eerie silence descended. Rhiannon coughed, struggling to breathe through the thick haze. "Pierce?" she gasped.

His weight shifted, and she felt his hands moving over her, checking for injuries. In the dim light filtering through the dust, she could just make out his face, inches from hers. His eyes were wild with concern.

"I'm okay," she assured him, reaching up to touch his cheek. "Are you hurt?"

He shook his head, then helped her to her feet. As the adrenaline faded, Rhiannon became aware of the chaos around them. Gareth was pulling Dottie from beneath a fallen beam while Lori cradled her sobbing sons. The gun lay forgotten on the floor nearby.

"Where's Alan?" Rhiannon called out, her voice hoarse. "And Will?"

A muffled groan answered her.

Pierce was already moving, shoving aside debris to reveal Alan's battered form. Will lay beside him, unconscious but breathing. Raszta padded over, whining softly as he nosed at Will's hand.

"Don't move," Rhiannon warned, kneeling beside them. She glanced over as Gareth appeared at her side. He studied the two men with a calm, practiced eye.

"They may have broken bones or internal injuries, but I won't know until we get them out from under this debris."

"Were you a medic?"

His jaw tightened. "Once upon a time. Pierce, help me."

As they worked to free Alan and Will, Rhiannon became acutely aware of the precarious state of the room. More plaster crumbled from what remained of the ceiling, and the walls groaned ominously.

The whole structure was one good aftershock from coming down on their heads.

Michael.

Her heart surged into her throat as she scrambled over fallen beams and shattered plaster toward the spot where she'd left Michael sleeping. The dust was still thick in the air, making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. She coughed, her throat raw, but pushed on. Raszta streaked past her in a blur of black fur, and since he seemed to know exactly where he was going, she followed.

The dog's nose was to the ground, sniffing intently as he wove through the wreckage. She stumbled over a broken chair, catching herself on a jutting piece of wood that sliced into her palm.

"Michael!" she called out, her voice hoarse from the dust. She knew he couldn't hear her, but she couldn't help herself. The silence that answered was deafening.

Suddenly, Raszta let out a sharp bark and began pawing at a pile of rubble. She scrambled toward it, hope surging in her chest. As she drew closer, she saw a small hand poking out from beneath a fallen section of drywall. Raszta wiggled through an opening and disappeared.

"Oh God," she gasped. "Pierce! Michael's trapped!"

She grabbed the edge of the drywall, straining to lift it. It was heavier than she expected, and her muscles screamed in protest. Just as she thought she couldn't hold it any longer, another pair of hands joined hers. She glanced up to see Pierce beside her, his jaw set with determination.

Together, they heaved the debris aside, revealing Michael's small form curled around Raszta. His eyes were wide with fear, but he seemed otherwise unharmed.

Rhiannon dropped to her knees beside him, her hands moving over him, searching for injuries. "Are you okay?" she signed. "Are you hurt?"

Michael shook his head, then threw himself into her arms, burying his face in her neck. She held him tight, her body shaking with relief.

Pierce knelt beside them and buried his hands in Raszta's fur, pressing his forward to the dog's in a silent, heartfelt thank you.

A low rumble reverberated through the building, sending a fresh shower of dust and debris raining down. The walls groaned ominously, and Rhiannon's heart leaped into her throat.

"We need to get out of here," Pierce signed. He was already on his feet, scanning the room for the safest path to the back hallway. His eyes narrowed as he assessed the unstable structure around them. "Follow me. Stay close."

Michael's grip on her tightened, his small body trembling. She rubbed soothing circles on his back as she straightened and picked her way through the rubble, following closely behind Pierce. Raszta trotted ahead, his corded fur coated in dust as he navigated the treacherous path.

"Gareth," Pierce signed sharply, catching the other man's attention. "We need to evacuate. Now."

Rhiannon translated, and Gareth nodded grimly, already helping Dottie and Hailey toward the hallway. "I've got Alan and Will stabilized, but we need to get them out of here fast."

Lori stumbled forward, her face streaked with tears and grime. "What about us? Are you going to leave us?"

Pierce's jaw clenched as he glanced between Lori and the others. Without Alan egging them on, they had all lost their zealous bravado. Now, they just looked scared and desperate.

His hands moved in rapid, decisive gestures.

"We were never going to leave anyone behind," Rhiannon translated. "But we need to move fast. The whole building could come down any minute."

As if to emphasize her point, another chunk of ceiling crashed down mere feet from where they stood, sending up a cloud of choking dust.

The group moved as quickly as they could through the crumbling hallway, with Pierce and Gareth leading the way. The two men had cleared more of it than she expected, and luckily, the ceiling was still intact. She could see the door at the end of the hallway marked EXIT in bright red letters.

God, she hoped that was true.

Gareth carried Will on his back in a fireman's hold like he weighed nothing while Pierce and Mr. Sasaki carried Alan between them on a sling fashioned from a tent they'd found in the ruins of the camping section. Everyone else shuffled silently behind in single file, fear etched on their filthy faces.

Something cracked, the sound like another gunshot, and they all froze. The floor beneath them shuddered violently, throwing several of them off balance. Rhiannon stumbled, nearly losing her grip on Michael. Pierce's hand shot out, steadying her before she could fall.

"Move!" Gareth shouted, his voice barely audible over the groaning of the building.

They pushed forward, ducking under fallen beams and scrambling over piles of debris. The air grew thicker with dust, making it difficult to breathe. Rhiannon's lungs burned, and she could feel Michael's small body shaking with coughs against her chest.

Pierce halted, throwing up a hand to stop the others. Ahead, a gaping hole had opened up in the floor. Rhiannon peered down into the darkness. She couldn't see the bottom.

Pierce set down Alan's makeshift stretcher and moved closer to the edge. He picked up a chunk of concrete and tossed it in. For several seconds, they heard nothing, and then…

Splash.

She lifted her gaze to Pierce's. "Can we jump over it?"

He shook his head. "If we miss, we drown."

"Fuck," Gareth muttered and turned to face the others. "We have to turn back."