Generation 18 (Spook Squad 2)

He continued on. Dust caught at his throat, making him cough, and the air became stale, almost hard to breathe.

“Gabriel?” Her voice rose from the darkness, full of sudden hope.

“Here.” He swung the light to the left. Her voice had come from beyond the row of disconnected walls.

“I’m trapped,” she said. “Hurry.”

Another explosion ran through the darkness. He swore and wondered why the fools in charge hadn’t stopped the demolition. Surely they could throw a power switch. With no power, there would be no computer to regulate the charges.

Plaster and brick began to rain from the ceiling, deadly missiles that drew blood every time they hit. He ran through the maze, dodging and weaving the best he could. The flashlight danced across the darkness, briefly illuminating shadowed corners. None of them held Sam.

“Talk to me, Sam!”

“Here!” she said.

She was close, so close. He kicked his way through a doorway. “Again.”

“On your right, through the door, I think.”

There were two doors on his right. Letting instinct take control, he booted open the second of the two. The light picked out her dust-covered face.

He knelt by her side. The ceiling had half collapsed, covering her in plaster and wood. But that wasn’t what held her. Chains did. Anger rose, swift and hard. The would-be assassin had better hope he wasn’t the one who caught her.

“You okay?” He pushed the debris away from her body, grabbed the end of the chain and began to unwind it.

“Fine,” she said. “How did you find me?”

He met her gaze briefly. Confusion and relief mingled in her smoke-ringed blue eyes. She wasn’t aware of the bond she’d forged. Good. Perhaps he’d be able to close it before it got too strong.

“Long story.” He unwound the chains from her legs and tossed them to one side. “Can you move?”

“I think so.” She grabbed his hand and pulled herself up. No sooner had she put weight on her left leg than it collapsed under her.

He grabbed her before she could fall back down. “Looks like you’ve done some damage to your leg.” He slipped an arm round her waist, taking her weight—what little there was of it. “Let’s get out of here.”

She didn’t argue. They made their way back to the stairs, their progress agonizingly slow. Though she made no complaint, her pain stabbed at the back of his mind.

Another muffled thump ran across the darkness. A shudder ran through the bricks around them, and the dust became thick enough to carve. The flashlight’s bright beam flared against the soupy swirl, unable to penetrate more than a yard or so.

They struggled up the stairs. Behind them, it began to rain bricks and wood, gently at first, but increasing in volume and strength. The building was coming down. Gabriel swung Sam up into his arms and ran like hell for the front entrance. The collapse was a tidal wave that raced behind him. He could feel the strength of it pushing at his back, urging him to fall. Plaster and wood crashed around them, and the dust was so thick he could barely breathe, let alone see.

He stumbled past a mound of wood and bricks and out the front door. A deep groaning filled the silence—the final scream of a dying building. He kept on running.

The old building came down with an almost silent sigh, and a sudden rush of wind battered at him, thrusting him to the ground. He twisted as he fell, so that he cushioned Sam’s body with his own. For a few seconds, all he could hear was the thunder of her heart, and all he could feel was the warmth of her body pressed against him. And all he wanted to do was keep on holding her, because it felt so right, so real, somehow.

The two men scrambled out of the control room.

“Jesus, man, are you all right?”

The sandy-haired worker he’d threatened stopped several feet away. Which was just out of reach. “Yeah. Call an ambulance, will you?”

“I’m okay,” she murmured, struggling against his hold on her.

He released her and she rolled away from him and sat up. Though she made no sound, her teeth caught her bottom lip. Beads of sweat broke out across her brow.

“Sure you are.” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and began wiping the dust from her face. Her left cheek was badly scratched, and blood oozed down to her chin. “Tell me what happened.”

“I pissed off that budgie again.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “And I’m gonna sell my damn apartment. People keep insisting on bombing it.”