Fourteen

Roger holstered his gun and lowered RJ hand over hand. “I’ve got you, Son.” His precious son was in his arms again. RJ clutched him around the neck. Thank You, Lord. He loosened the slip knot at RJ’s back and pried his son’s little arms from around his neck long enough to pull the rope over his head. RJ clamped his arms back around his neck.

A sudden wall of flames whooshed to life on the other side of the gaping hole. “You can’t save them both,” Sweeny yelled above the roar.

Roger glanced at the hungry fire. Did he really have to choose? If he took RJ with him to search for Jackie, all three of them might perish. If he left RJ outside, at least he would live.

The smoke grew heavier. He tucked RJ into the front of his coat and covered his face. He had to find the clear path Sweeny had left for himself. He couldn’t be so stupid as not to have thought of an escape route.

Out in the hall the smoke was thicker. He put his free arm over his mouth and nose. The bulk of the blaze was around the front door. He dashed in the opposite direction and caught his foot in a hole in the floor, nearly dropping RJ. He jerked his foot free and stayed close to the wall, testing the mushy floor as he went. The smoke burned his lungs, and he coughed.

He reached the back door. Though the door was open, boards were nailed across the frame. He raised a foot and broke two boards loose in the bottom half. Kicking again to clear them out of the way, he ducked through the doorway and down the steps.

Oh, Jackie. His heart pounded. His eyes watered. I’ll be back for you.

A heavy mist blanketed the air. He knelt in the damp grass and opened his coat.

RJ looked up at him and blinked. “Chocoe?”

Roger shrugged. “I don’t understand.”

“JJ chocoe.” His breathing was still ragged from so much crying, but he was safe.

“You stay here, Son.” He looked back at the building, smoke pouring from it. He had to go back. Was Jackie even in there? He hadn’t seen or heard any evidence of her. She could already be dead. Sweeny could have had her someplace else entirely. But he knew he had to search this place first. Once inside, he wouldn’t likely come back out. He hoped the sacrifice wasn’t for nothing.

RJ started back toward the building. “Mama.”

Roger picked him up.

RJ started to cry again. “Want Mama. Want Mama!”

That was good enough for him. “You stay here, and I’ll find Mommy.” He set RJ back down.

RJ walked straight for the burning building again.

Roger picked him up once more. “You have to stay out here.

RJ held out a hand toward the building, crying. “Mama.”

Precious seconds were being wasted! How could he make RJ understand? He couldn’t go back in if RJ was going to follow him.

❧

The evil odor of smoke had replaced the smell of gasoline. She was going to burn to death! One shot. One dead. Roger? Or could it have been RJ? Had Roger even made it here? Which one? Her chest tightened. RJ! She couldn’t hear him crying anymore. Had that horrible man taken RJ with him? No! As long as she had breath, she would do all she could to keep RJ from him and safe. She yanked and thrashed, pulling on the wrought-iron bar and the cuffs. Neither would budge. She stopped her flurry and stood motionless. There had to be a way out of this. The bolts. She tried to turn the bolts with her fingers. They remained tight. She shook the bar and tried again. Nothing.

Tears stung her eyes more from smoke than frustration. The pole was immovable as were the bolts. That left only the cuffs, and unlocking them was out of the question. The one around her right wrist was almost tight enough to cut off circulation. All that remained was the cuff around her left wrist, and there was only one way it would come off—even if she had to lose her hand to do it.

She pulled the cuff as far down on her hand as she could. Pressing her bones together and pulling her skin under the cuff, she moved the cuff across her bruises and further down her hand. She had heard of a woman in the Oklahoma City building bombing who had literally sacrificed her blood to keep her child alive. And she would do no less for hers.

The smoke was thickening, and she coughed. It was comforting to know the smoke would get her before the flames. She ground the cuff further down. The cuff was stuck on the lower thumb bone and knuckle bone of her little finger. She’d have to yank it, ripping her skin. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and coughed out charred air. A sharp pain bit into her hand as she jerked on the cuff, but it was no closer to coming off. She ignored the pain and kept pulling. She wasn’t strong enough to get the metal over the bones. She squeezed and pressed her hand bones as if dislocating them but without the added pain of dislocation. The cuff budged a little.

She coughed. The smoke at the ceiling crept lower and lower.

❧

Roger had to go back in for Jackie. But how with RJ so determined to go in too? He scanned the area and saw a dumpster. He snatched RJ and ran. It was empty. Not ideal, but it would do. He lifted RJ inside. “You’ll be safe here.”

RJ cried harder.

Ignoring him, Roger sprinted toward the burning building. He ducked through the back doorway. It was hot inside. He wanted to shed his leather jacket but knew it would give him some degree of protection.

Sweeny had said she was upstairs. He covered his mouth and nose with his arm and dashed for the front where a staircase went up, into the heart of the inferno. Flames completely engulfed the staircase. No doubt all routes upstairs were cut off.

“Jackie!” His anguished call was eaten by the ferocious blaze. He backed away. There had to be another way up. He began to move. His feet seemed to know where to go even though he didn’t.

❧

Jackie lowered herself to the floor away from the thickest smoke. Kneeling caused the throbbing ache in her right calf to explode with shards of pain. She gritted her teeth and tried to control the pain with her breathing. She coughed. The room grew darker, warmer.

It was time to do something drastic. She’d have to break a bone to make her hand smaller. Could she do that to herself? If she were just a little stronger, she could pull her hand the rest of the way through, flesh or no flesh.

Strength! That was what she needed, and that was exactly what she had.

She lay on her back and propped one sneakered foot on each side of the cuff. Lord, give me the inner strength to do this. Help me to endure the pain and not pass out. She took a deep breath and held it, ignoring the urge to cough. One quick thrust with her legs and her hand was free. She cried out in pain and gripped it with her good hand, the cuff dangling from her wrist. It was slick and warm with blood. She rolled to her stomach and wriggled herself to her feet. RJ! She had to find RJ! She wouldn’t leave without him.

❧

“Jackie!” Energized by Jackie’s scream, Roger’s feet moved him more quickly over the spongy floor. “Jackie!” He stayed to the wall and hoped the floor would hold him. “Jackie!” His throat burned, and it hurt to yell. She was alive, and he would call to her until she heard him. “Jackie!” Why wasn’t she answering him? “Jackie!” He coughed. Did her scream indicate the fire had reached her? Was it her last gasp of life? “Jackie!”

❧

Jackie leaned on the door frame, put her arm over her mouth and nose, and hugged her bleeding hand. The hall was hotter and darker than the room. The smoke thickened, making her drowsy. She shook her head to clear it. She had to find RJ. She coughed, gagging on smoke.

Her head jerked up. What was that? Was RJ calling to her? No. He’d call “Mama.” She hobbled across the hall and into the wall. She limped down the hall in the direction she had come. Or at least she thought she was moving.

❧

The heat inside the building made the rope burn on Roger’s hand hurt more. He closed it into a fist. Jackie was here somewhere. But could he find her in time? Was it already too late. “Jackie!” He slid along the wall and around the corner, feeling his way down the hall to an open doorway. “Jackie!” He coughed and covered his mouth with his coat collar. The floor beneath him bowed and crackled. He found himself in the room with the rope. He grabbed the rope. The sting in his hand intensified. He jerked his hand back. “Jackie!”

❧

That was her name! Roger was here and alive! “Roger!” She limped more quickly down the hall toward the smoke and heat. “Roger!”

She looked through the window of the fire door at the top of the stairwell. Flames licked up the stairs and at the door. They were all but gone. “Roger!”

“Jackie! Where are you?”

She coughed. “Here. Where are you? Where’s RJ?”

“Follow my voice.”

“I can’t.” It was so dark. She slunk to the floor on her knees and elbows. Roger must have RJ.

“Go to the apartment next to the stairs.”

Next to the stairs? On which side?

“Follow my voice.”

She tried crawling on her elbows but couldn’t move very well. She relinquished her bleeding hand and did her best to crawl on one hand and her wrist. Ignoring the pain in her hand and her calf, she crawled along the wall to an open door. She hoped it was the right way.

“Are you there yet?”

She needed to rest but knew she couldn’t. She had to keep going.

“Jackie!”

Roger’s voice was closer. She had gone the right way. “Roger?” she choked out. “Are you in here?”

“Be careful—there’s a hole in the floor.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m down below. Find the edge of the hole.”

She crawled across the floor to where she could feel it tip down, dragging the cuff behind her right wrist. She moved around to the side where the floor sat level, and she could see a little. The smoke billowed up through the far side of the hole. She peered through. “Roger! Where’s RJ?”

“He’s outside. He’s safe.”

Roger seemed as relieved to see her as she was to hear RJ was safe. Roger had saved him. Her baby was safe.

“Grab this rope and climb down. Grab both ends of the rope at once.”

She latched onto the ropes with her good hand, and her mind flashed back to seventh-grade PE class. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t then, and she couldn’t now. She’d nearly flunked PE.

“Climb down, Jackie!”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

The room began to turn. “No.” She didn’t do well with heights. Looking down through the hole made her dizzy. Or was it the smoke?

“Let go of the rope. I’m coming up.”

“There has to be another way down.”

“No time.” He sent a ripple up the rope, and she let go. Roger leaped up the rope, ascending hand over hand.

Even with Roger, could she leave the floor and go down the hole? The floor seemed to shift, and with a crack and a crash something gave way. Falling debris rained down around Roger. A board struck him across the shoulders and knocked him to the floor.

“Roger!”

The rope swung back to her. She caught it without thinking and latched on with both hands. A bolt of pain shot up her wrist; but all she could think of was getting to Roger. Her injured hand was useless. She descended too quickly, burning her good hand. Part way down, her hand gave way, and she thumped to the floor. Pain exploded in her calf. She scooted to where Roger lay moaning, trying to move.

Roger slowly pushed to his hands and knees. “We have to get out of here before the whole place comes down on us.”

In answer, another section of the ceiling crashed down. Jackie screamed, and Roger curled his body over hers.