Allison heard something in the sacristy and pressed herself against the wall behind the altar. She tightened her hold on the hammer’s handle and held her breath.
A flashlight beam appeared, and she swallowed hard.
Fenwick stepped near the altar, and Allison swung, clipping Fenwick on the shoulder. He dropped to his knees and the flashlight skidded away. She jumped over him but he grabbed her ankle. She fell, and the breath rushed out of her lungs. Fenwick grunted as he struggled to stand. She rolled over, swinging wildly.
He disarmed her and pointed his gun at her head. In the dim light, his face was twisted into a fierce mask of hatred and disgust. She lay on her back, panting.
Fenwick, who wasn’t even breathing deeply, kept his weapon aimed on her. “Where is the fucking treasure?”
She used her elbows and heels to scramble away. “I don’t know.”
Isabel rushed in, her flashlight and gun out as well. “Shoot her. It’s time to leave.”
Fenwick moved quickly. He disarmed Isabel and pulled her against his chest, her back against his front. He kicked Isabel’s gun behind him. It landed near the sacristy, so Allison’s only chance to get it would mean passing by Fenwick.
“Let go!” Isabel elbowed him until he pressed the gun’s barrel to her temple and she stopped struggling.
“Allison?” Fenwick snarled. “Get the fuck up.”
Allison used the pew to stand and saw the hammer nearby. “What do you want?”
“The treasure. You’ve been searching for Mercy your entire life. You know where she, and the treasure, are hiding. If you don’t tell me, I’ll kill Isabel.”
“I don’t.” Allison held out her hands. “I swear.”
“Don’t play games, Petal. You may hate Isabel, but she’s the only person on this earth who can exonerate Zack and his men. If I kill her, your lover will never reclaim his life. He’ll have to live in a run-down gym forever. No redemption. No honor. Just a life of nothingness surrounded by moldy pirate flags, sweaty wipe-down towels, and memories burning with regret.”
“Please,” Isabel pleaded. “Listen to me—”
“No.” Fenwick focused his gaze on Allison. “Where is it?”
“I don’t know. I swear.”
Isabel stomped on Fenwick’s foot and he dropped his arm. It wasn’t much, but it gave her a chance to grab his arm, spin him around, and kick him in the groin. He dropped to his knees, and she reached for his gun, but not before he shot her in the shoulder.
Isabel cried out and fell to the floor. Allison hurried toward the other gun until Fenwick pointed his weapon at her.
“This is your last chance.”
She held out her hands. “I swear I don’t know.”
“Pity.” Fenwick found Isabel’s gun and trained both of them on Allison. “You could’ve saved your lives and Zack’s honor. Now all three are forfeit.”
“I swear—”
“No point in swearing, Petal.” He backed away. “If I were you, I’d start praying.”
Fenwick left the church and she ran for the back door. It slammed shut and she heard him boarding it up with an electric drill from the outside. She pounded and screamed, but he laughed until the noise stopped. It was then that she realized he’d walked away.
She leaned her back against the door and saw an electrical panel on the wall. She hit all of the switches, praying for an alarm, but nothing. The church lights didn’t even go on.
She ran back in to find Isabel on the floor, her eyes closed. Allison took off her white blouse, grateful she had on a white cami, and moved Isabel until she could press the bunched-up cotton against the wound. From what she could tell, the bullet had ripped through Isabel’s shoulder and come out the other side.
Except for a few moans, Isabel didn’t say a word.
What am I going to do?
Allison wiped her forehead with her arm and sat against a pew, her arms around her pulled-up knees. She closed her eyes and thought about their options. She had a hammer and Isabel’s flashlight. From the lighter sky, dawn would be here soon. Maybe, once the day started, someone would find them.
She glanced at Isabel and the blood that had already soaked through the blouse. Isabel might not have that long.
“Do you smell smoke?” Isabel leaned against a pew.
Allison stood. “I do.”
She saw spirals of smoke coming from outside the church. With Isabel’s flashlight, she hurried to a window and saw yellow and orange flames. Gas cans lay on the lawn.
Fenwick had set the church on fire.
* * *
Zack, carrying Pete, reached the far edge of the cemetery near the road, when Rafe’s security lights lit up the trees. Not white lights. Blue lights.
“Sorry about this, brother.” Zack adjusted Pete’s weight and switched to a fireman’s carry. Then he ran toward the café until Garza and Vane raced out and passed him.
Zack turned to see where they were going and, when he saw smoke coming from the direction of the church, laid Pete on the ground, propping him against a headstone. “Stay here.”
Two shotgun shots rang out. Then a third.
“Sure.” Pete reached for the rifle. “I’ll watch the perimeter.”
Zack handed Pete the weapon and took off. Once Zack entered the churchyard and jumped over a shovel, he saw the flames. Garza and Vane were already filling construction buckets via a hose that came from the rectory. “Is anyone in there?”
Garza handed him a bucket. “Yes. We saw a flashlight inside.”
“We were on the way to check it out when we realized it was on fire. We tried to open the doors.” Vane tossed water onto the flames licking the side of the church. “They’re blocked with planks screwed to the frames.”
“I fired on the doors with a shotgun,” Garza said, “but they’re at least six inches thick.”
“There’s a hydrant in front of Mamie’s Café,” Vane added, “but no hose.”
Zack took Garza’s bucket and used his bare arm to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. The air was heating up quickly. “Garza, drive over the bridge until you get a signal. We need a fire truck and an ambulance. Pete has been shot.”
“It’ll take too long,” Vane said. “We need to open those doors.”
“There’s a shovel in the graveyard.” Zack threw water on rising flames. “Maybe we can use it to pry open the doors.”
Vane tossed another bucket onto the church. “What about the windows?”
“They’re covered in bullet-proof, hurricane-proof glass.”
A loud whoomph sounded, and the church’s outside paneling started to burn.
Zack heard a vehicle screeching on gravel. Rafe jumped out of his truck and raced toward the prefab modular building next to the café. Garza and Vane followed.
Zack ran back to get the shovel, returned, and took the church’s front steps in one leap. The goal was to use the handle as a crowbar behind the planks shuttering the doors. Despite the intense heat, he pushed and pulled until the shovel’s handle broke, throwing him onto his ass three steps down.
Rafe, Vane, and Garza had found a fire hose in the hurricane shed and were hooking it up to the fire hydrant.
Please let the hose be long enough.
Zack booked it to the other side of the church. It’d just started to burn, but he got close enough to look in the window. Standing on a pew near another window, he saw Allison hitting the glass with a hammer. He pounded his fist against the window to get her attention but she didn’t notice.
He hurried back to the other men. “Allison is in there.”
“Watch out!” Rafe yelled a moment before a huge surge of water hit the church over Zack’s head. Rafe sprayed the church but the flames grew. At this rate, even if they put the flames out, the smoke would suffocate anyone inside.
Zack found bricks on a pile of construction debris and threw them at the windows. They didn’t even dent the high-tech glass. He barely noticed when a minivan appeared and Nate got out.
He barely noticed when Cain and Luke appeared and started filling buckets and throwing water at the church.
He barely noticed when Ty forced water down Zack’s parched throat.
“Zack.” Ty’s voice sounded years away. “Emilie is okay. She’s safe.”
Zack bent over and pressed his hands into his thighs until a loud whooshing sound had both Zack and Ty running around the church. Flames engulfed the back door. While his sister was safe, Allison was inside that inferno.
* * *
Allison jumped off the pew and hurried to Isabel, still holding the hammer as if that would magically save them.
“It’s not supposed to happen this way.” Isabel’s black hair hung around her shoulders in a tangled mess of dirt and blood. “This is how we were to end it, to hide your body. Remiel wouldn’t do this to me. He needs me.”
Fenwick and Isabel had planned to shoot her and set her body on fire?
While Allison wanted to kick Isabel’s wounded shoulder, she didn’t have time. She coughed on the smoke as rays of early morning sunlight filtered into the room. First it streamed through the rose window, detailing the intricate design that reminded Allison of a…multicolored daisy wheel. Then the light came through the side windows.
Allison studied each of the six windows and their brightly colored stained-glass designs: Saint Simeon’s prophecy. Escape to Egypt. Lost in the temple. Carrying the cross. The lance. The burial.
Six of the Seven Dolors of Mary?
Allison moved behind the altar. Now, with the light pouring in, she could see the engraving below her feet. It was, indeed, a stem with leaves that ended beneath the wall behind her.
She coughed on the smoke and ran toward the wall with her hammer. It got stuck in the paneling. She quickly searched the church and found a hatchet and a piece of drop cloth she could use to cover her mouth and nose. The hatchet wasn’t big enough to touch the thick church doors, so she started chopping the wall behind the altar. If there was a window behind this wall, then it might not be covered with unbreakable plastic.
It was her only chance.
After a few good hits, the wood began to splinter.
“What are you doing?” Isabel coughed.
Allison didn’t answer because her lungs hurt and the axe handle was heating up. She wasn’t about to waste any oxygen on Isabel. But Allison didn’t want Isabel to die either—not if she had information on Zack.
After twenty hits, Allison dropped to the ground. The smoke darkened the room and her arm muscles contracted painfully.
She tried to pull away the lower half of the paneling. After a few tugs, she fell backward, wall in hand. The lower half of the wall had split off, and she saw the rest of the engraving on the floor—a broken daisy with an inscription.
REQUIESCAT IN PACE
MERCY CHASTAIN
She inhaled and coughed on the smoke that was now burning her lungs and eyes.
Had she just found Mercy’s grave?
She moved closer and, through the hole she made in the wall, she saw an altarpiece against the original structure.
A wooden ladder in the sacristy caught fire and dropped to the ground. The flames seemed to realize their purpose and burned through the sides.
She found her hatchet and banged the paneling again.
They were running out of time.