Undefeated, page 23
I grab one out of the base and hand it to him. He tries reaching Selena again…but again, only crackling. Mulberry takes the one Dan was using earlier, checking that the frequency matches the other, then speaks into it. The feedback makes me wince. “Well, we know it’s working when we are close, so we just need to get higher,” Dan says.
“I’m going up there,” Mulberry says, grabbing a walkie talkie from the couch and putting it in a back pocket.
“I’m coming with you,” I say.
“It’s too many flights of stairs,” Mulberry says gently. “We can’t use the elevators.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say.
The two men share a glance. When their gazes come back to me they both quickly find someplace else to look. Men sharing glances about me…yeah…how to piss off Sydney Rye for $500, Alex.
I grab another walkie talkie and head for the door, Blue by my side, and Mulberry bringing up the rear.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The cement stairwell has red emergency lighting. It’s not a good look for the stark space. “Think they wanted people to be terrified while fleeing on these steps?” I ask Mulberry.
He’s following behind me and huffs a laugh. “Maybe,” he says.
“Do you think we should be?” I ask. Blue’s nose brushes my hip.
“No,” Mulberry answers. “The staircase is one of the safest places to be. It’s designed for a secure exit. Structurally speaking, the whole place would have to collapse for this to come down. Mountains don’t usually collapse.”
“Waves don’t usually climb to the height of buildings and ash doesn’t usually rain from the sky,” I point out.
“No,” Mulberry answers. “They don’t.”
I don’t respond, needing to save my breath for the climb. My legs are burning and my pace slows. We are only on the third flight. “You should keep going,” I say. “Leave me and Blue. I’m too slow.” I come to a stop. “I need to rest.”
Keeping hold of the railing, I turn and lower myself down onto the steps. Blue sits on the one above me. Mulberry holds out a bottle of water. He is always thinking. I take it. “Thanks.”
Mulberry’s lips are thin and his brow creased. The man doesn’t want to leave me but he’ll do it. He’s a good person. Robert wouldn’t leave. He’d rather the whole world burn with everyone on it as long as he got to keep me. Keep us.
“I’ll take it slow,” I assure him. “And meet you at the top.” I hold up the walkie talkie. “And I’ve got this.” He nods, still not speaking. “What?” I ask, annoyed by the silence of this tall, narrow, eerily lit space.
Mulberry blinks, a smile tugging at one side of his mouth. “I think it’s obvious I’m not relishing leaving my pregnant best friend in a stairwell in the middle of an epic emergency.”
I snort. “The lights cue you in to the epicness of it.” They flicker, as if warning that it could be worse. I believe them. “You should go now.” I hold up the water bottle and the walkie talkie, then jerk my head toward Blue. “I’m good,” I say, slipping the walkie talkie into my cargo pants thigh pocket.
“Yeah,” Mulberry admits. He bends forward and steals a kiss from my lips, quick and chaste. I grab his neck as he pulls away—I’m still quick when not hauling my giant body around. His lips break into a smile and he comes back to me easily.
His hand lands on the step next to me and Mulberry leans in, levering himself forward so that our kiss can deepen. So that if this is goodbye, it’s not wasted. “I love you,” I say against his lips as he pulls away. “Go save the day.”
He laughs, low and rumbly. “I love you too. Take good care of our son.”
He leaves then, his steps echoing above us in the red haze of light. Blue’s nose touches my shoulder. “Let’s keep moving.” Using the hand railing, I pull myself back to my feet.
We climb, slowly, arduously. The need to pee comes on one flight later. Fuck. But we are almost at ground level. Then it will just be another fifteen to the top…
First, another rest. I land on the step harder than I mean to and my spine complains with a sharp pain. “Sorry,” I mutter. Blue presses close to me and whines. “I’m okay,” I assure him, putting an arm around his shoulders and hugging. “We’re okay.”
And that’s when the lights go out and we sink into utter and total darkness. My grip tightens on Blue. I am here. I am not unconscious. Always good to check.
My stomach tightens and I shift, trying to alleviate the spasm. It fades slowly, the darkness making the sensation that much more intense. I’ve never felt anything quite like it before. Blue whines again, pulling me from my thoughts.
I pull out my phone and activate the flashlight app. The stairwell comes back—gray this time instead of creepy red. But the pitch blackness below and above is not an improvement.
Finishing off the last of my water, I abandon the bottle and keep climbing. My hand is shaking, the flashlight bouncing, when the L painted on the wall comes into view. “Thank fuck,” I say, pushing against the door. It gives a little and water starts rushing into the stairwell. It swirls around my ankles and drains down the steps. The rumble of thunder comes with it.
I practically fall out into the flooded lobby. The water is brown and foaming. The scent of brine and earth is thick in the air. Lightning from outside strobes into the room—pitching it from light to dark. The thunder is a continuous deep rumble. I force the door closed again. It clicks into place and I turn, leaning against it. Blue sniffs the air, his head bobbing, as if he’s catching a ton of new scents.
“I bet the bathroom is fucked,” I say, though no one could hear me over the rolling booms of thunder. “Good thing I ran out of water.” I laugh at the irony that I’m standing in six inches of it, the water soaking through my pants, and into my boots.
Blue has no response. He doesn’t get irony.
I close my eyes for a moment, trying to orient to the strobing light and ominous sounds after the quiet darkness of the stairwell. That same strange tightness I felt in the stairs returns, as if deep inside me something is squeezing. It doesn’t hurt but is kind of nauseating. Probably some ligament thing because I climbed all those damn steps.
The front doors twenty feet away are open, water washing in and out as if the lobby is just a part of the sea. Ash blows in on a gust, pebbles spraying the surface of the water. A sense of intense awe rises up in me. Holy fucking shit.
An hour ago everything here was normal. And now it’s all destroyed. An alarm suddenly blares—wailing, competing with the thunder’s angry growls. My gaze is drawn to the speakers in the corners of the room—must be the fire alarm. They would work without power…probably have a battery backup built into them. A failsafe to the failsafe.
Sloshing through the water, I cross to the other stairwell. It’s up a few steps so the door is easy to open. And then Blue and I are back in the pitch black of the stairwell with only my phone’s light. The alarm isn’t as loud in here and the thunder fades as I climb. My wet boots squelch with each step.
Blue’s nose taps my hip rhythmically as we climb. When I get up one flight, the alarm stops and Mulberry’s voice comes over the speakers. I stop, my heart beating faster at the breathlessness of his tone. “Evacuate the top five floors. We have a fire in the battery room and need everyone out. It’s too dangerous to go outside but we can seal off the top floors. I repeat, evacuate to lower floors immediately.”
His voice stops and the alarm starts its moaning blare again. I pull out my walkie talkie and turn up the volume, trying to hear over the alarm but I must still be too far away because all I’m getting is static.
Frustration and fear war in my chest. Banging above us draws my and Blue’s attention. I lean over the railing and look up. The dim light of flashlight beams flash way above us. They must be evacuating. Voices echo but I can’t make out any words.
Blue’s nose swipes at my elbow. “Let’s keep climbing,” I say. “We can head to the medical suite. They may need our help.”
I take another step and am reminded that I really need to pee. Dr. Guilder’s advice to put on my own oxygen mask before helping others comes back to me. If I pee on someone that’s not helpful. At the next floor, I push out into the hall. It’s a residential floor. The sound of thunder reverberates and my flashlight swivels around until I spot a public bathroom. Thank fucking god.
After relieving myself, I return to the steps. There is still noise above—other people evacuating—and when I reach the fifth floor, I’m no longer alone.
People are helping each other down the steps; the scent of burnt flesh poisons the air. Flashlight beams bounce, making the whole thing seem even more chaotic. I don’t recognize the faces that the light catches on, but I do recognize the grim determination in their expressions.
Blue and I follow a stream of about ten people to the medical suite. It’s overflowing with patients. The few chairs are full and people are sitting on the floor. The scent of blood and burnt flesh brings bile up my throat. But my body calms and my head clears. I can help.
The windows let in the strobing light of the volcanic storm. The constant thunder is louder here but not as overwhelming as the lobby since the glass is thick and the walls are even thicker.
Dr. Guilder’s white jacket flashes in the darkness as she leans over a patient sitting in one of the chairs, inspecting their arm. I move through the crowd to her. “Dr. Guilder,” I say, drawing her attention.
She looks up at me, her headlamp hitting my eyes and forcing me to drop my gaze. “I have a lot of first aid experience,” I say…because while my training is not official, I’ve bandaged up a fuck ton of wounds. “Let me help.”
She nods, the flashlight bouncing. “This burn needs covering, I’ve already cleaned it,” she gestures to a kit at her feet. And then she’s gone, moving onto the next patient.
“Hi,” I say, to the person in the chair. It’s a woman, probably about my age, her skin smeared with soot and her eyes red-rimmed. “I’m Sydney.”
“I’m Pam.” Her voice is tight, skin pale, and pain is etched into her brow. I focus my flashlight on Pam’s outstretched right arm. The burn engulfs her hand and stretches to her elbow. The red glistening rawness makes my stomach drop.
“I’m going to bandage your wound,” I tell her.
“Okay,” she says as I lower to my knees. Blue’s nose swipes at my ear as I get down to his level.
“What happened?” I use alcohol to clean my hands. The scent of it relieves the stench of the place for a brief moment.
“Lightning,” Pam says. “It blew the batteries. I’ve never seen this much lightning in my life.”
“Me either,” I say. And I hallucinate the stuff all the damn time.
“The fire started small and we thought we had it under control. But then something blew. I don’t know what.” She winces as I lay a bandage onto the wound. A tear runs down her cheek. “We couldn’t get everyone out.” Her voice is choked. “We had to seal off the upper floors. The automatic locks weren’t working and so he had to do it from the inside.” Her words make my chest hurts. “He pushed me out and then…” Silence falls for a brief moment and a flash of lightning fills the room so that I can see every detail of her torched skin. “Mulberry saved us all.” The thunder comes, rolling into the room like a freight train barreling into a tunnel.
My eyes close, Pam’s words slowly sinking into my mind. Blue’s nose touches my cheek. Mulberry sealed off the burning room from the inside. Mulberry saved us all…that means Mulberry died.
CHAPTER FORTY
Grief is that strange beast who lives inside all of us waiting to be awakened. It rises from its slumber, more powerful with each meal. And Mulberry’s death is a feast.
My entire body hurts, my stomach in knots, cramping and painful. I work in the medical suite, my mind focused on the patients I’m helping even as grief tears at my insides.
At some point, when the patients have dwindled, Dr. Guilder forces me to leave. Forces me to go rest. Blue and I find our way to my apartment. I peel off my clothing—bloodied and stained—climb into bed and lie there, the lightning flashing, thunder rumbling, ash and volcanic rock pinging against the windows, my soul screaming in pain.
Sleep does not come. The ash stops falling, the lightning and thunder fade. The power hums back to life and my apartment looks the same. There is the crib that Mulberry built, white and solid and waiting for his son.
That’s when the tears come. When the twisted pain erupts. Blue presses close and I curl around the baby still inside me, hugging myself and him. Grieving for our incomparable loss. For his father, my friend…our family.
There is no coming back from this and yet I must. Grief never takes more than it can in one sitting. It leaves you broken but alive so that it can continue to feed.
I get up. I clean up. I feed Blue, then pull on fresh cargo pants, and one of Mulberry’s shirts—it’s big enough for me and my baby. I find a clean pair of boots. My stomach still hurts, my body still aches, I have not slept, but I need to move.
As I’d lain in bed, I’d heard the announcements—Dan’s voice updating us all on the ongoing emergency.
The elevators are still not operable—the top half of the fucking mountain is sealed off, the fire that consumed our backup batteries is still burning apparently. Just wearing itself out on all that was up there. But despite that, our power and network are operational again. They pumped out the lower floors battery rooms and were able to get them working again. Finding the walkie talkie in my discarded, dirty pants, I pull it out. “Come in, Dan, it’s Sydney. Over.”
“Syd.” His response is quick. “Where are you? Over.”
“In my room. Are you still downstairs? Over.”
“Yes. Over.”
“I’ll come to you. Over.”
“Okay. Out.”
When I push into the stairwell, the cramps in my stomach torque so hard they steal my breath. I grip the handrail and bend forward, searching for relief. The cramp passes and my breath returns to normal, but nausea remains. I have not slept or eaten in I’m not sure how long, longer than a pregnant woman should…but the idea of food makes me sick. The idea of everything makes me sick.
At least when James died, I could drink away my sorrow. My son is forcing me to fester in it.
Blue and I start down the stairs. My legs are shaking by the time we reach the lobby. It’s transformed again—the water now ash-thickened sludge. There are two women dressed in cargo pants and T-shirts whom I don’t recognize standing by the broken front door. Hazy sunlight streams in.
“Hi,” I say, holding up a hand in greeting.
Their eyes are wide as they take in my giant belly and even gianter dog. “Hi,” one of them says back. “I’m Gail. Can we help you?” She’s holding one of those industrial brooms which look like they can sweep anything…but I’m not sure that the lobby is salvageable. Will we abandon this place?
“Just passing through,” I say. “Headed downstairs to the operations room.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” she asks, concern flickering across her face as she glances again at my belly.
“I’m good,” I say, holding up the water bottle I brought with me.
“You sure?” the other one asks.
“Promise.” I cross the room, the ash mud suctioning onto my boots. Memories of the water swirling around my ankles makes my skin tingle. I take a deep breath before pulling open the next door. This is the last place I saw Mulberry alive. Don’t think about it. Do. Not. Think. About. It.
I turn that into a mantra. Each step is a word. Do. Step. Not. Step. Think. Step. About. Step. It. Step. Then I find myself on the step. The one where I last kissed him. Pain overwhelms me and tears break free again. I lower onto the step and Blue sits with me, his chin coming to rest on my shoulder. I lean my face into his and let the tears ride. Pain writhes in my chest, back, and stomach.
Grief takes its fill, leaving me wasted. A few sips of water and I pull myself to my feet and begin down again.
Dan sits in the same place I left him, but his eyes are now hung with dark circles and his skin is almost blue. “Did you sleep at all?” I ask.
He shakes his head as he rises to stand. Dan opens his arms and I move into them. The scent of coffee and Dan fills my senses. My already swollen eyes burn with fresh tears. He rubs my back and makes comforting sounds—not hushing or assurances, just small sympathetic noises letting me know he knows. “Dan.” His name comes out as cracked and broken as my heart.
“Yeah.” His voice is a rumble in his chest as much as a vocalized breath. But I don’t really have anything to say so I just hold onto him and let some more tears leak out while he rubs my back. “There is something you should see,” Dan says. I pull back to look up into his face. His lips lift into a sad smile.
“What is it?”
“Sit.” He gestures to the chair Mulberry occupied however many hours ago…I don’t even know. I just stare at it. Blue’s wet nose swipes at my fingers, unlocking me. Dan returns to his seat and we both look at his computer screen.
He brings up a video file—full color facing a doorway. “You know what happened?” Dan says. “That the locking mechanism wouldn’t function so Mulberry stayed behind to lock the door and save us.”
“Yes,” I whisper, new tears sliding down my face.
“He…” Dan clears his throat. “The fire would have taken the whole complex.”
“I know. The noble fucker died like he lived.” I hiccup a laugh and Dan gives me that sad smile again.
“I think he’d want me to show you this…”
The video starts to play. At first, it’s just the doorway—a white metal door with a keypad next to it. Smoke pours into the frame and five people run to the door—three men and two women. I recognize the one I bandaged up, Pam. She’s holding her burned arm to the side, so that it’s not touching anything. One of the men yanks open the door and everyone but Pam and Mulberry pile out.
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