“I’m coming with you,” she said, running up behind him and hooking her finger through a belt loop on the back of his jeans as he opened the door. Good thing too, since she couldn’t see anything out in the hall. The towel helped keep the thick smoke out of her nose and mouth but did little to keep her eyes from watering. Soon, she couldn’t see anything through the haze of her tears. But she was surprised to realize that the air in the hallway didn’t feel hot. Was there not a fire after all? “What’s happening?”
“Smoke bomb!” Clint yelled through the shadows as he felt his way along the hallway to the bottom of the stairs. “Sweet pea? Honey?” he called through the toxic air as they slowly climbed upward. “Daddy’s here! Daddy’s coming! Can you yell to tell me where you are?”
“Daddy!” Ashley coughed and hacked. Smoke rose, so it was thicker in the air up here. The noise hurt Tara’s lungs just to hear it. “I can’t see you. I’m scared! Please help me!”
“I’m coming, honey. Daddy’s here!” The desperation in his tone tore at her heart and Tara did her best to keep up with him, knowing time was of the essence.
“We need to get her out of here,” Tara said. Her foot hit the wall and pain radiated up her leg. She cursed, stepping back slightly, the movement knocking her towel askew in the darkness. Smoke crept in to fill her nose and mouth and she started to cough uncontrollably, each breath only drawing in more of the noxious fumes. “Oh God. I…can’t…breathe.”
Clint vanished from her grasp and for a moment, Tara wondered if this was it. The end. Then he was back, his strong hand closing around hers. From the sound of whimpers close by, she could tell that he held his daughter in his other arm, leading them both down the stairs toward the living room and escape. The farther they got from Ashley’s room, the less smoke there was, until they were finally in the kitchen, where the air was clearer at last. Clint positioned them by a window which he yanked open, filling the room with cool night air.
Tara bent over, hands on her knees, sucking in great gulps of sweet oxygen, her throat burning and her mouth sticky from smoke. Clint too was coughing, his cheeks damp from his eyes watering. Poor Ashley had the worst of it, though, her breaths wheezing as she tried to get enough air into her lungs. “She needs to get to a hospital.”
“We all do,” Clint said. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called 911. “We need an ambulance please. There’s been a smoke bomb detonated in our home.” Clint gave the dispatcher the address and stayed on the line while they waited for the emergency vehicles to arrive.
Ashley was still having trouble breathing and Tara did her best to calm her, even though her own anxiety was through the roof. But she knew that losing her shit right now would help no one, least of all Ashley. “Hey, look at me, sweetie,” Tara said, meeting the little girl’s terrified blue eyes. “That’s it. Just focus on me and we’ll breathe together, okay. In and out. In, out. In, out. There you go.” Gradually, Ashley’s breathing grew less labored and Tara’s thundering pulse slowed to a less deadly level. Sirens wailed closer in the distance and Clint ceased his endless pacing. It was going to be okay. It had to be okay. Tara kept her gaze locked with Ashley’s. “Good. Good girl. Help’s here now and we’re going to be okay. I promise.”
Ashley threw her arms around Tara’s neck and held on for dear life and Tara hugged her tight, not wanting to let go. Not now. Maybe not ever.
14
The bustle of the ER did little to settle Tara’s nerves, but at least Ashley was doing better now.
Tara stayed by her bedside while Clint went out to call the guys from SSoF and talk to them about what had happened. While the doctor and nurses checked Ashley’s vitals again, Tara scrolled through her emails, her inner dread growing with each message that appeared from the board of directors. She’d emailed them to let them know what had happened, but since it was already rather late, she’d hoped that they wouldn’t see the message right away and that she wouldn’t have to deal with their replies until morning.
No such luck, apparently.
First was a message from Harrison, stating that the board was spooked by the event from earlier that night. No shit. Tara felt more than a little spooked herself. She swallowed hard, her throat still tender from the smoke, then clicked on a second email with her shaking finger. The rush of adrenaline that had flooded her system as they’d escaped the house had long since receded, leaving her feeling jittery and jumpy and oddly empty.
She didn’t mind putting herself in the line of fire for what she believed in, but it was another matter entirely to endanger those she cared about. Clint might have signed on for the danger when he’d agreed to be her bodyguard, but not Ashley.
Warily, she opened the second email, this one from Jacob Bartlet, and her heart sank even more. He was calling on the board to halt their public campaigning for the bill, saying that it could be putting all of them in danger, and damn if Harrison didn’t second the motion.
Well, crap.
Talk about an overreaction. There was no need to kill the legislation. She typed in a quick response, telling Harrison and the rest of the board that, then hit Send. She didn’t have to wait long for a response. Her phone dinged just as the doctor was finishing up with Ashley.
“This is about more than your safety now,” Harrison wrote. “Someone tipped off th
e media, and what happened at your house tonight is all over the news. It’s become a publicity issue, Ms. Crumb.”
“But what if we can turn it to our advantage?” she fired back. “What if we can use this to fire up our base—show them how vital and important this issue really is?”
“No.” Harrison’s emailed response was short and sweet. “The board has reconsidered.”
Clint came in, rushing to his daughter’s side. “How’re you doing, sweetpea? The doctor says you’re going to be okay.”
“I’m thirsty, Daddy,” Ashley said, her little voice croaky as a bullfrog. “Can I have some water?”
“Sure thing.” He poured her a glass from the small pitcher on the bedside table and helped her sit up to drink it. Tara watched the scene, unable to stop thinking about the first night they’d spent at her house. Ashley had wanted water then too, but the times had been much happier.
No. Happier wasn’t quite the right word. Maybe less stressful.
Yeah. Definitely that.
Once his daughter was settled again, Clint came over to where Tara was sitting in the corner of the room and leaned his hips back against the wall. He looked as worn and exhausted as she felt. At least they were all okay. He scrubbed a hand over his face, then looked down at her. “I just talked to the guys at SSoF. The board of your non-profit called them. They want to bring them in to give an unbiased assessment of whether or not it’s safe for you to continue lobbying for the climate change bill.”
“But that’s ridiculous!” Tara sighed and threw her hands up in exasperation. “Nothing’s changed!”