Page 80 of Desperate Creed

And the last:

LET ME KNOW YOU’RE OK.

She tapped out a message telling him she was fine, but they were trapped underneath the restaurant.

His response was immediate:

DAMN! ANYTHING I CAN DO?

Before she could type another message she stopped. She smelled something. More gas fumes? No. It was something else. Sulfur? Smoke?

“What is it?” Frankie asked, alarmed by Maggie’s expression.

“I think something might be on fire.”

57

Maggie left Frankie so she could investigate. The water was getting higher. She still couldn’t figure out where it was coming in. Halfway to the stairs she practically ran into Hank. In the halo of the flashlight’s beam the man’s eyes were bulging, even more pronounced by the sunken, dark circles under them.

“Something’s on fire up above,” he told her.

He said it so loud she could hear gasps around her coming from the dark.

“Fire! What are you talking about?” Stephanie was on her feet.

“And there’s a tornado on the ground just ten miles south of us,” Beth said without looking up at them, her head bent over her phone.

Gus came down the steps. Max was close behind him. It occurred to Maggie that she hadn’t seen the man she had nicknamed Loverboy. She heard him at the top of the stairs, still pounding. She remembered now how the stairwell wasn’t a straight-shot down. It was an L with a landing in between two sets of stairs.

“What were you guys doing to the door?” Maggie asked. “Did you accidently create some sparks? Remember you said there could be gas in the broken lines.” That’s exactly what Hank had told her earlier. “Which could mean there’s gas leaks up above, too.”

She tried to study Gus’ face, thinking at this point Hank was too upset to read. She expected Gus to be the exact opposite. The man had been calm and composed and totally unreadable since the storm hit. But now, she could see his jaw was clenched, his hands balled up into fists.

Max was a little easier to read. The expression on his face told her he was pissed and ready to get the hell out of here. He tapped on his phone even as Maggie waited for a response.

It was Hank who answered while one side of his mouth twitched. “I told them to be careful. They could have ignited something.”

“We didn’t ignite anything,” Max said without looking up from his phone.

“They’ve only made such a small hole,” Hank continued. “I don’t see how it could have sparked anything.”

She glanced back at Gus and caught him checking his watch. Only then did she realize it was a smartwatch like Frankie wore. But he wasn’t checking the time. She could glimpse a message across the square face, a miniature screen. He was receiving messages without having to use his phone. Convenience or did it allow him a level of secrecy?

It didn’t matter, because now he was clearly rattled. He ripped a cell phone from his back pocket, started punching in a message. When he noticed Maggie watching, he turned his back to her and walked off into a dark corner.

Maggie pulled out her own phone and called Ryder. If the rescuers had to back off because of the approaching storm, he might still know what’s going on. It rang for a long time then went to voice messaging. She asked him to call her as soon as possible.

She tucked the phone into her back pocket, no longer caring who saw the shoulder harness and gun tucked under her arm. She had tried to be discrete letting the lightweight shirttails cover it. But the shirt was drenched in sweat now, as was her T-shirt.

She hated feeling so completely helpless. As long as she took control and guided the others she could keep the claustrophobia at bay. The dim light and the dark corners only made it worse. And then for the first time she noticed something else. Her breathing was a bit labored. The air was getting thinner.

Maggie whipped her phone back out. She tapped out a message to Ryder. She sent one to Jason, too.

Then she waited.

58

Creed didn’t remember blacking out. He woke with a jerk. Cold water lapped against him. His eyes blinked. The lids scraped like sandpaper. It hurt to breathe.