Slow Burn, Chapter 14/21

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Becky had been indignant from the moment she woke up to unfamiliar hands all over her, and had made her displeasure viscerally clear from the start.  That had earned her several bruises, but at least the bastards had laid off.  She hadn’t known anything about the overall situation until Virginia filled her in – but hearing about it had only increased her ire.  She hadn’t hesitated a moment when the medic relayed the proposed escape attempt.  She was itching to go.

Now the lieutenant had given the signal.  Virginia steadied shaky hands as she quickly sliced through the tape constricting Becky’s ankles, thighs, and wrists.  Now free, the crewwoman slid back and stretched hurriedly, flexing stiff muscles.

“Ready?” Virginia asked, proffering the key as she crouched beside her.

“You bet,” said Becky, taking it.  “Now run and hide.  I don’t want to see them putting the twist on you for helping me.”

“No can do,” said Virginia with an air of resignation.  “I’ve got patients.  Not going to leave them unattended.”

For half a second, Becky’s resolve wavered, and she stared at Virginia.  She had been thinking she was taking the big risk; that she could handle.  But she was sick at the idea that anyone – especially this kid – might suffer on her account.  I mean, Christ, she’s a medic.  I’m supposed to take the risks, not her.  But…there’s no helping it now.

“You know, for a snot-nosed volunteer you’re not half-bad.”

Virginia smiled faintly.  “Thanks.”

Becky stood.  “Get back to your patients at least.  Maybe they’ll think I got away on my own somehow.”  Virginia moved to comply.  Becky whispered, “See you.”

The girl hefted the key in her hand and turned to face the hallway.  The rusty maintenance panel beckoned as she hurried down the length of the corridor.  She inserted the key, and for a horrible moment it didn’t seem to engage.  Finally the lock clicked and the key rotated.  With a huge sigh of relief, Becky grasped the handle and pulled.

As the panel moved a quarter inch, old metal ground against old metal with a very audible shriek.  As quickly as she’d started, Becky arrested the movement. Fuck!

The moment with the key had been bad, but this was infinitely worse.  She tested a much slower pull, but that only seemed like it would drag out the horrendous sound even more, and she immediately halted the effort.  Did they hear it?!  How could they not have?!  Her thoughts sprinted in a frenetic relay, but turned up agonizingly few options.

Find some WD-40 or axle grease?  Becky had no idea where she’d find them, and no time to search.  Escape through another door?  They’d already said they had the place buttoned up tight.  Break a window?  That was flat out.  This had been a tough neighborhood even when the station was built, and the only windows were fortress-style -- small and inaccessible.  There was no getting in or out of them.  Sneak to the front desk, or get to the personal effects lockers upstairs, and dial out for help?  She had no idea where other intruders might be lurking; she could only be sure she was alone in this hallway.

And she might not even be alone here for long.  Did that creep Pullman’s voice sound louder now?  Damn it.  It’ll have to be speed, then.  The girl’s muscles tensed as she took hold of the handle again.


* * *


Marigold had finally discarded the jacket and blouse, after drawing the process out as long as she dared.  The catcalls stung, but she was absolutely sure she had the intruders’ full attention.  She was gritting her teeth and trying to decide whether to do the stockings or the skirt next when a tremendous grinding screech emanated from the hallway.  Every head in the room instinctively bobbed up and turned in the direction of the noise.

“What the hell was that?” said Pullman, rising from his seat.

Shit!  Mare immediately guessed what had happened.  That damned old panel!

Ybarra leapt toward the doorway, drawing his pistol; Pullman was two steps behind.  Mare lunged and kicked one leg out, sweeping Ybarra’s feet from under him.  He went sprawling; Pullman reined up short to avoid tripping himself.  He immediately gave Mare a backhanded slap across the face, and she staggered.

Ybarra scrambled out the door on hands and knees; all the girls in the room jumped as they heard several shots firing.  Bullets clanged as they ricocheted off the metal panel.  Candy screamed into her gag.

Next came a scuffling, clanking sound from above.  Mare’s heart leaped.  She’s made it!  Then came several more shots – the impacts duller as they pierced the ceiling of the hallway.  Mare held her breath…but the sounds of movement continued unabated.

Ybarra screamed in wordless rage as he reentered the room, brandishing the pistol.  He glared hatred at Marigold.  Her own pale green eyes mirrored it right back at him, over the hand she pressed against her bleeding mouth.

“You messed with the wrong malparido, puta!”  He brought the nine millimeter to bear, level with her midsection, and fired.

Mare felt as though she’d been kicked by a horse as the bullet pierced her stomach.  There was an odd moment when she felt nothing except the sensation of having the wind knocked out of her.  Then the pain came – a burning pain, flames licking up and threatening to consume her from the inside out.  Her hand flew to her stomach; it came away sticky with blood.

She took one wobbling step backward, and fell.  Everyone else in the room, Pullman included, was staring in open-mouthed shock.  Ybarra shouted toward the ceiling.  “Hear that, up there?”  I just gave your lieutenant a hole in the gut!”

He knelt and forced the barrel into Mare’s mouth.  The black metal somehow felt cool against her lips, a tiny respite from the feverish heat rising inside her.  “And she gets one through the brain unless you get back down here.  Now!”

The sounds of movement within the ductwork had stopped.  The whole room stood on a precipice of silence.  Ybarra’s unhinged voice rang out.  “One…”

“Stop!”  Becky’s shaky voice was muffled inside the ducts, but her words were plain nonetheless.  “For God’s sake, stop!  I’m coming back down!”

The sound of her route through the ducts echoed as she clambered back down.  In a few moments she emerged from the maintenance panel, covered in dust.  Her face was wrenched with horror, frustration, and guilt.  Ybarra struck her hard across the face, but she barely reacted.

Pullman warily eyed the scene as he grabbed the redhead by the arm and pulled her toward the chair vacated by Marigold.  As he did so, Becky leaned down towards Mare, tears streaking down her grimy face.

“I…I’m sorry lieutenant, I…I couldn’t…” she sobbed.

Gritting her teeth through immense pain, Mare gave a slight nod.  Pullman dragged Becky away as Virginia rushed to the wounded woman’s side. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” the medic incanted under her breath as she yanked open her medical bag.  “Lieutenant, can you hear me?!”

“…hurts.”  Mare’s voice was hoarse and quiet.  Her hands were shaking, her face ashen.

“I know, lieutenant.”  Virginia meant her voice to be soothing, but the haste and anxiety showed through.  “You’re going into shock.  I’m going to give you something for the pain…God, where is it?!”  She rooted frantically through the bag.

“Not…too much.  Need to…know what’s going…on.”  Mare muttered.  “Don’t…knock me out.”  The lieutenant almost managed a tiny smile.  “Had enough of that…today.”

Virginia looked her over with worry, then hurriedly removed a syringe and injected its contents.  “Okay.”  Then she quickly pulled on gloves and began to probe the wound with her hands.  Mare winced, and Virginia gasped as she saw the extent of the injury.  “God…lieutenant, I’m not sure I can…”  She trailed off.

Mare spoke as she breathed out.  “I trust you…Ginny.”