Page 25 of Sinner
Ten
The moment Flintheard the fire alarm go off, he knew something had gone wrong.
Shit.
His thoughts flew to Mary. Those guards. Those fucktards. What if they hurt her? He pulled out his phone and tried to call, but she didn’t pick up. He checked the security camera feed he’d hooked up to his phone and scrolled through locations until he viewed the floor they were on. No one was there yet.
He didn’t want to hold up the lift in case they had to come down, so launched up the stairwell, two steps at a time. Sixteen floors later, his lungs burned and his heart beat rapidly, wanting to burst out of his chest. His thighs trembled with exertion. Thank God he ran miles a day, otherwise he’d not have made it. When he exited the stairwell, and ran into the reception lobby, he rolled his device along the floor and into the exposed lab area. Within ten minutes, all electrical devices would be wiped. All data on the computers, lost. He turned to the Project room and almost crashed into a security guard holding an infant.
“Fire,” the guard bit out. “Stairs.”
“The lift will be quicker,” Flint said, nerves firing. He hit the down button on the elevator to call it to the level. “One trip down and you’ll be safe. Go.”
Flint didn’t give the guard a chance to argue. When the door opened, he entered, hit the basement button, and then stood holding the doors open.
“Quick,” Flint urged. “In the lift. Go.” Another guard came rushing toward him with two children in tow. Despair, a tall girl with long hair clutched a small potted plant, and an auburn-haired boy… Flint couldn’t remember their names. Behind him, the elder Sister jogged with a toddler in her arms, and dragged another running child.
He looked behind her and his heart skipped a beat. Mary came running with one child on her hip, and the other hand holding a girl, and a laptop tucked under her arm. They all filed into the elevator, filling up the small space. The infants cried and the guards had their hands full trying to console them.
Despair clutched her pot and wailed, “She’s so sad. She’s so sad.”
A hand clutched at his shirt and tugged. He looked down to the teary eyes of Despair. She tugged again. “She’s too sad. We have to help her.”
“Where’s Gloria?” he asked Mary and took the laptop from her arm.
Mary’s eyes were bleak and empty, her expression shut down. When she spoke, it was cold and clipped. “I don’t know.”
An explosion erupted somewhere on the floor and they all flinched. A flare of heat hit their faces and the children screamed. The direction of the blast came from Barry’s desk. All those specimen jars were flammable.
“What’s happening, Mary?” he asked.
“She’s burning everything,” she replied. “We have to go. Now.” With a fierce look, she punched the close door button. “Let go of the door, Flint.”
“But…”
“Don’t make this harder than it is.” A look from Mary silenced him. He pulled his hand from the doors and they slid shut.
A shift of movement against Flint’s side was the only warning he had before a little shadow burst past him and through the sliding doors, then they shut with a finality that had everyone silenced.
“No!” Flint slammed his fists on the doors, rattling the metal, again and again. “No!”
But there was no stopping the elevator’s descent. Another explosion trembled the walls and an anguished cry ripped from Sister Josephine as she realized the same thing Flint had. Unable to let her suffer alone, Despair had run after her birth mother. In the space she had left was a potted bonsai plant, wobbling as the elevator moved. Flint looked to Mary, but she was a stone statue.
“Seven,” she muttered. “I saw only seven children make it.”
“I’ll go back for her,” Flint growled. “When we get to ground, I’ll go back up the stairs.”
Mary didn’t respond. She kept her eyes to the floor, sucking air through her nose, and exhaling through her mouth.
Looking around wildly, Flint weighed his options. Stopping the lift would only jeopardize the rest. He had to go back up the stairs once they hit the bottom. Christ, his legs were jelly already, but he had to go back for the girl. He couldn’t live with his negligence causing more death. Not again. Not after his friend and the accident.
The elevator pinged, signaling they were at basement level.
The doors opened. Flint picked up the plant and rushed out. “Van’s over there.”
He’d parked right up front. As he approached, he slid open the rear door and strapped the child in his arms into the seat.
“What are you doing?” One of the guard’s said.
