Page 107 of Second Act
He wanted to pick her up and carry her far away from the sky-licking flames and the suffocating, black smoke, but he knew she would never forgive him. And he would never forgive himself if something happened to her when he might have been there to help. “I’m coming with you,” he said for the second time that evening.
She shook her head.
“Either I go in with you, or I haul you back to the sidewalk over my shoulder,” he said, his tone as steely as hers.
“Hugh, it’s too...” She swept out her arm in a gesture of refusal.
“Dangerous. That’s why I’m not letting you go in alone.”
She searched his face for a long moment, her gray eyes picking up reflected glints of orange and yellow from the fire. “Don’t do anything stupidly heroic,” she said before nodding.
“You should talk,” he said, stepping aside even as his brain screamed at him that this was insane.
She started forward again, and his gut clenched when he saw where she was headed. Between the clinic and the pawnshop on the side away from the bodega, there was a narrow opening.
“Where does that lead?” he asked, hoping he was wrong.
“To the back entrance. Tiana said they unlocked it in case they had to exit that way.” Without breaking her stride, she looked up at him again. “Stay here. I know the clinic like the back of my hand. You don’t.”
“Just tell me where to look first.”
She hesitated for a long second but said, “My office. Check places you think are too small for a cat. He has a white tip on his tail, so look for that.”
Hugh had to turn his shoulders sideways to fit through the dim, narrow walkway between the buildings. He didn’t even want to think about what was crunching under their shoes, especially with Jessica’s feet virtually unprotected by her barely there sandals.
When they reached the back entrance, she started to pull open the door, but Hugh slammed his hand against it to check the temperature. It was not hot, so he let it go. When it swung open, black smoke boiled out in a blinding haze. “On your hands and knees,” he commanded.
They dropped down and crawled into the pitch darkness, Jessica leading the way without faltering. At least the lack of light meant there were no flames in the clinic yet, but the acrid smell of smoke made Hugh’s eyes water and his throat burn. As they turned a corner, light from the front windows spilled down the hallway, illuminating the churning clouds of smoke just above their heads.
“I’m going to look in the other places Geode likes to hide,” Jessica said when he came up beside her. “You go on to my office and yell if you find him there.”
She turned off to crawl into another room, and he had to force himself to let her go, especially when he heard her begin to cough. His knees already felt bruised from pounding against the hard floor at high speed, but he slithered into Jessica’s office. Thank God there weren’t many nooks and crannies for a cat to cram himself into in the small space. Just as he was about to rise to kneeling height, he caught a tiny glimpse of white at the base of one of the tall oak filing cabinets. He scuttled over to find the tip of the cat’s tail barely peeking out from the space behind the cabinet where he would have sworn no cat could fit. The creature must have been terrified to wedge himself in there.
He scrambled to the doorway. “Jessica! I found him! Jessica! In your office!”
When she didn’t answer, every muscle in his body spasmed in terror, and he started out the door. “Jessica! Where are you?”
“Here!” Her voice sounded far away. “I’m coming!”
He didn’t want to leave in case Geode decided to bolt, but it took all his willpower to stay. It seemed far too long before Jessica emerged from the smoky dimness, scooting along a cat carrier as she crawled.
Jessica shoved the case through her office door. “Where is he?” she asked between coughs.
“Filing cabinet,” Hugh said, leading her around the desk while he fought down the urge to breathe deeply as his lungs begged for clean air. “I’m going to stand up and shift it. You grab Geode.”
She looked up at the pall of smoke roiling above them. “Do it fast.”
Hugh held his breath and leaped to his feet, thrusting up into the blinding, choking smoke. Squeezing his eyes shut against the corrosive haze, he shoved his shoulder against the cabinet. The shock of the impact radiated through his back, but the cabinet didn’t budge. There was no time for finesse, so he took a step back before he hurled himself against the heavy tower, slamming his whole body into the solid oak. This time it skidded away from the wall with a loud squeal of wood on linoleum.
He dropped back to his knees as his eyes teared and burned while a fit of coughing tore at his chest. He’d probably bruised his side as well, but that was nothing compared to the craving for oxygen.
“Got him,” Jessica said, slamming the gate of the cat carrier shut.
“Out the front!” Hugh shouted. “It’s closer. Go! I’ll bring the cat.”
Mercifully, she didn’t argue, leaving him the case and scurrying toward the door. He scuttled along behind her with the damned cat, wheezing, squinting, and feeling a tidal wave of gratitude that Jessica was safe.
The outside door was ajar when they got there. Jessica felt Hugh tug her upward into a crouch so they could run into the street, dodging around the emergency equipment. The dirty air of New York had never smelled so wonderful as when she drew it into her smoke-clogged lungs, while Hugh coughed as he jogged along beside her.
