Читать книгу Surviving The Storm - Heather Woodhaven - Страница 12

THREE

If David weren’t so worried he’d compromise their safety, he’d have released a little of his anger with a punch to one of the two-by-fours he had to crouch under. “Duck,” he muttered, not sure if Aria could see the diagonal piece of wood he just passed.

Aria. Why’d she have to be here? It didn’t make sense. She should be off at some architecture firm somewhere by now, making the big bucks. What was she doing cleaning? Not that he cared.

Well, at least he didn’t want to care. He was just as mortified as she was about that little jibe that came out of his mouth. He was over her, so why did he need to bring it up? He couldn’t afford to care, let alone notice she was even more beautiful than the last time he saw her.

As soon as he got them out of this, he’d walk away before she could play with his heart again. Until then, he was in charge. No objections.

“What do you mean, George was right? I didn’t think the remodel involved the attic.” She groaned. “I should’ve noticed. The new design added more rooms, so...”

“They had to change the load-bearing walls,” he finished. “It was impossible to structure it otherwise. You didn’t design this train wreck, did you?”

“No,” she said, her voice clipped.

He exhaled loudly. Why was he so bent on antagonizing her? What had come over him? “I didn’t think so. George should’ve asked you to look over the proposals.”

“I should’ve asked,” she said, her voice timid. “You’re sure the materials they used were subpar?”

“Not just the materials. The engineering. No one factored in the point loads needing to be carried down to the foundation.” If it were anyone else besides Aria, he would have put it in simpler terms and said the walls could come tumbling down. Especially if there were an earthquake, as was high probability on the coast—the same risk as Japan, in fact.

Aria groaned. “You...you know where we’re going?”

“You don’t become foreman at my age without knowing your way around an attic.” He cringed the moment he said it. As his family could attest, his ego bristled easily in moments of stress, and his big mouth took over control.

“I know my way around an attic too. What I really want to know is the plan.”

He clenched the ladder tighter and took longer strides. He felt the back end of the ladder swing, and Aria shrieked. He froze and twisted so the light shining from his tool belt would find her. “You okay?”

She was straddled across the wood joists set two feet apart. How she managed to move so fast without falling through the drywall was a testament to her time on construction sites.

She gritted her teeth. “Yeah.” She blew out a breath. “Could you please keep in mind I have much shorter legs than you?”

It was more an order than a question. “Sorry,” he grunted then leaned forward. His pride wanted to make sure she knew what she was missing, and instead it was making him behave insensitively. He needed the Lord’s help with his attitude. There was only so much a man could take in one day.

David spotted the raised rectangle two feet ahead on his right. He walked forward until he remembered his maneuver a few seconds ago had almost sent Aria tumbling through the ceiling. “I’m setting the ladder down so I can open our exit.”

She didn’t respond, but he could feel her movements—through the vibrations of the ladder—mimic his own. He flipped open the exit and took a tentative sniff. He didn’t think there were enough chemicals left in the jugs to harm them this far away, but he wanted to be sure. “Clear,” he whispered. “To play it safe, we need to be quiet.”

They moved in unison, sliding the ladder down through the hole until it made contact with the floor.

“It’s going to make noise when we step on it,” Aria murmured.

“So let’s step fast.” David turned around and caught sight of her face, framed in curls. So trusting, so beautiful... He thought she had been perfect for him. He clenched his jaw and looked down. “Let’s go.”

His foot made contact with every other rung. He reached the floor before Aria was even on the ladder. He rushed to the door leading to the hallway. Past the balcony, he could make out one suit on the hallway floor, his hand over his head. Then where was the other suit?

A gunshot rang from above. Aria screamed. David darted back to the ladder. She slid the rest of the way down, right into his arms. “Are you okay?” he asked. Her T-shirt and khaki pants didn’t seem to show any evidence of blood.

She shivered but nodded as she found her footing. “I saw a light on the other side of the attic. It’s the Robert guy. He’s up there.”

“Then we don’t have a lot of time.” David yanked the ladder down to the ground, grabbed Aria’s hand and sprinted for the curved staircase.

“Short legs,” she huffed. He let go of her hand but almost came to a complete stop at the sight of George. He was on the tile, on his side, his hand over his heart.

Aria passed David on the staircase and sprinted across the lobby floor. “George,” she whispered. She fell to her knees in front of him. “George. Answer me,” she begged. “Please!”

David reached her side and kneeled. His friend, and boss for a day, had his eyes closed and looked pale. Even if help arrived within the minute, it didn’t look as if he had a chance. David felt for George’s pulse on his right hand.

George’s eyes fluttered open and darted between David and Aria. The man smirked and closed his eyes again. “Two favorite people,” he whispered, his voice hoarse from the strain.

“Help is on the way. We need to get you away from those men. Just hold on.” Aria placed her hand on George’s left hand, pressing against his gunshot wound. “Help me move him, David.”

George licked his lips and opened his eyes again. “No, sweetheart.” He took a ragged breath. “I’m ready.” His stare moved to David. “My desk.” Another breath. “The drive.” He sighed. “Make it right.” He closed his eyes. “Proud of you.”

“I can’t lose you, George,” Aria said. George didn’t move or respond. She turned to David and shook his arm. “Help me! I can’t lose him.”

The pulse beneath David’s fingers disappeared. His shoulders sagged. “We can’t save him, Aria.” He cleared the emotion from his throat. “He’s gone.”

She shook her head. “No. George, stay with me.” Her voice cracked. Tears filled her eyes.

David’s chest burned with restrained agony. He let go of his boss’s hand and reached for Aria. He was ashamed he’d ever spoken to her with anything but kindness.

A thump reverberated from above. In his peripheral vision, he spotted a flash of black approaching the balcony. The gunman had jumped from the attic. David shoved Aria down to the ground as a bullet crashed through the twenty-foot-high front window of the lobby. A cascade of shattered glass dropped to the floor.

His eardrums seared with the pain of such a violent crash, but his first priority was Aria’s safety. He jumped over her, grabbed her arm and slid her crouched form across the floor until they were past the corner of the reception counter. He ducked as a series of bullets lodged in the wall behind him. “This guy’s nuts!”

Aria’s wide eyes and shallow breathing grabbed his focus. He put his hands on her shoulders. “Aria. Are you okay?”

She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. She blinked and, as she inhaled, pulled her shoulders back as if she’d put on armor. “But I know we have to go. I think I know the way out.”

She slithered past him and into a closet. At least he thought it was a closet, judging by the pillows and blankets in the cubbies lined against the wall. But once inside, he spotted two doors. The door to the right was marked Conference Room, but the door to the left simply said Management. Aria stood and flung the left open. Of course. George’s office—and George had his own private entrance. Or exit, in this case.

David locked the office door behind him, then crossed the room to open their escape route. Aria had taken to rifling through George’s desk drawers.

“What are you doing? The guy’s got to be clear across the lobby by now.”

She ignored him. Rage filled his veins. Every second increased their chances of being shot. “I can’t keep you safe if you don’t—”

“Got it.” She thrust a thumb drive up in the air. “I think this is what he wanted us to find.” She lowered her hand and stared at the drive. “It’s got to be.”

David lunged for her wrist. “We leave now.” He pulled her out of the building. The wind rushed past him, the snowflakes melting on his skin. The conference center campus was placed diagonal to the coast’s jagged shoreline. Half of the buildings were built on a hill, above the main conference lodging. It ensured every building had at least partial access to an ocean view. His truck was attached to a trailer full of tools at the opposite end of campus. “Where’s your car?”

Her eyes, dark with worry, surveyed the area. “Parked near the cottages, next to the garden. If we run across the parking lots with him after us, we’ll be target practice.”

She was right but he didn’t have any other solution. He shook his head. “We don’t have a choice. My truck is too far away—”

She grabbed his arm, her eyes widening. “The caves.”

David whipped his gaze to the ocean. “Is it low tide?”

Her curls blew across her face. “No.” She started running. He pumped his arms to catch up as he heard her say, “But it’s not high tide yet either.”

He blew out a breath. Could the day possibly get any worse? Side by side they tore through the wet sand. Only ten feet until shelter. Just as they rounded the corner of the nearest rocky cliff another gunshot rang out. A sting ran across his right shoulder and wet warmth ran down to his elbow. David heard his own cry before he fully registered what had happened. His shoulder had been hit but they couldn’t afford to slow their pace. He ran harder, his thoughts fueling his rage. The anger helped tame the pain.

A nearby wave crashed beside him, and a moment later the ripples hit their feet. It was harder to keep up a fast pace, especially in his boots. They were sinking into the sand. Aria jabbed a finger past his face and came to a stop. He turned to follow her gaze. A thin crevice.

He looked over his shoulder. The gunman had yet to round the corner. It was now or never. He entered first with Aria right on his heels.

Once again they were in the dark together. The crevice was tight, especially in the front where the ocean slapped against the face of the cliff. The space opened slightly. Shoulder to shoulder they sloshed through the six-inch-deep ocean water. He gritted his teeth. The air might be in the forties, but the water could only be ten degrees warmer. Only the hardiest of surfers would brave fifty-degree water, even with a wet suit. He had never been one for surfing...or for enjoying cold temperatures.

They couldn’t afford to slosh in the water much longer, or their health would suffer. The rock opened up into a small cavity. The sea cave. The air grew stale and musty. He reached out and his fingertips found Aria’s shoulder. She stopped walking, but her body shivered underneath his hand. Without a hint of light, they had to stay together.

He sniffed, making sure there weren’t any unpleasant smells that might indicate new sea lion territory.

Memories flooded David’s mind. Four years ago they had strolled the same beach hand in hand, discussing their dreams for building their own resort similar to the Shoreline Conference Center. Their center would serve as a ministry and provide groups, and most important, families, access to amazing vacations and marriage conferences in beautiful locations they’d otherwise never be able to afford. Exactly like George had done for their own families.

Aria had claimed the designs were already sketched in her mind, and David had boasted his resourcefulness would allow it to be built under budget yet still strong enough to handle the toughest earthquakes and floods. When they had discovered the sea cave that day, years ago, they were just going to check it out and come back to the beach straight away.

But when Aria had heard a sound behind her and jumped into his arms, the darkness had given him the courage to kiss her forehead...and then her lips for the first time. She had reciprocated with such a fierce, passionate kiss of her own that he had been completely ignorant of the approaching high tides.

David cleared his throat, hoping to clear the memories with it. “Are you sure about this, Aria? Last time we both barely got out.”

* * *

Aria fought to keep her head on straight. She had almost let the grief take over in the lobby; she couldn’t afford for it to get a foothold again. “I know,” she admitted. “And with a lot of scratches to boot.”

He winced but she had a feeling it wasn’t from the memory. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. The sting in my shoulder is getting worse. It caught me off guard. I wasn’t dealing with a bullet wound last time we were in the cave.”

“You weren’t shot.” Her teeth chattered the moment she opened her mouth.

“I’m pretty sure the hot blood running down my arm isn’t from the snow.”

“I know,” she responded, her voice softer but still shaking. “I saw it happen. I’m sure it hurts, but he shot the side of the cliff, and the rock broke off and...”

“Hit me,” David finished. “So I’ll live.”

“I hope it didn’t do as much damage as a bullet. It was too close, though.” Unbidden images of the last time they found themselves in the cave filled her mind. He was right. They had barely escaped and now he was...thicker. “I am beginning to wonder if we should’ve opted for taking our chance in the parking lots,” she said and reached out to find him. Her fingertips found his denim shirt—presumably his chest, judging by how tall she knew him to be. It was maddening to be in the dark and not be able to turn on a light. She moved her hands apart, searching, until they found his arms.

“Uh... Aria, what are you doing?”

“Don’t worry. I’m not trying to cuddle.” She slid her hands up and over the outside of his arms, careful to only touch the front of his shoulder to avoid his injury. “It’s just that you’re...well, much wider than last time.”

“All part of the job,” he blurted out.

Aria knew manual labor built solid men, but her own father was never so broad. “I guess,” she replied. “I’m a little worried you won’t fit anymore.” Another rush of water flooded in and soaked the back of her knees. Her hands shook from the chill. David was much taller, but the wave had to have reached the middle of his shins. He had to be feeling the effects of the cold water as well.

“Maybe we should double back,” David suggested. “He could be gone by now.”

“What if the other gunman sees us?”

“Fine. We try the tunnel, but you’ve made me a little concerned that I might get stuck. If I so much as feel rock scraping my shoulder, I’m backing out. Want me to pull out my phone?”

They heard a slap of water, then another. It didn’t sound like waves. Was the gunman in the cave? Surely not. He’d be in the same predicament they were. He was likely outside of it, though. Instinct prompted Aria to reach her hands out and find David’s.

Her hands moved over his wrist. She felt his hot breath on her forehead and wanted to jump a foot back but remained frozen. They both stood still—aside from their shivering—and quiet. Each minute seemed like an hour in the frigid water. When she was confident she didn’t hear any more slaps, it was all she could do not to run out of the cave. But even if she tried, she knew the force of the incoming tide would bounce them around the small rocky entrance. They wouldn’t make it back out without getting slammed into the rock walls.

They needed to find the tunnel now. Because every other option meant severe injury...or worse.