Page 82 of Run to Ground
“Don’t.” Her mouth shook, and the flashlight beam reflected off the tears gathering in her eyes.
“I have to leave you for just a second,” he explained, guilt clawing at him at the misery on her face. “I’ll be back as soon as I grab the tool we need.”
“No,” she said, her voice catching on the word. “Don’t come back. Leave. I’ll wait for the bomb squad. Don’t sacrifice yourself for me.”
In response, Theo took her face in both hands and kissed her hard. “No. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life. Be right back.”
“But…” Her words sputtered out behind him as he left, tugging Viggy with him. There were a couple of figures shaped like firefighters in bunker gear silhouetted against the glass door. He lifted Viggy and sprinted for it, arriving just as they opened the door.
“Thanks.” He thrust Viggy into the arms of one of the startled firefighters and grabbed the long-handled cutters. “Take Viggy and get back.”
“Wait—what…” The fireman bobbled the dog, surprise keeping him from holding on. Viggy squirmed free, jumping out of the startled man’s arms. He darted back into the diner, nearly knocking Theo down on his way back inside.
“Fuck!” Theo grabbed at the dog, but Viggy slipped out of reach and tore behind the counter. Frustrated, Theo watched the end of his tail disappear. He moved to follow the dog, tossing back over his shoulder a final “Go!” to the firemen.
Shoving open the door to the kitchen with his shoulder, Theo almost tripped over Viggy as the dog slipped through the doorway with him.
“You decidenowthat you want to be around me?” he muttered, running through the kitchen toward the propped-open door of the walk-in cooler. Jules was staring fixedly at the box, tears running unchecked down her cheeks.
“Get out, Theo!” she cried. “It made a beeping sound. I think it’s going to blow up. Please go.”
As if to punctuate her words, a quiet tone sounded from the box. He turned toward it, not liking that noise. He was torn, not sure if he should see if he could diffuse the device or if he should just cut her loose so the three of them could run like hell.
He was no explosives expert. Although he’d been trained in the basics, it was mostly in identifying explosive components and learning the protocol. If he was told something was a bomb, then that meant he treated it like a bomb by evacuating and calling in the bomb squad. Disarming an explosive device was not his forte.
“Cut and run, then.” He turned toward Jules. “Lean forward.”
She obeyed, and he set the flashlight on the shelf next to where her hands were secured. He tried to maneuver the blunt head of the cutters so it could clip the chain, but the way Jules’s hands were linked to the shelving made it awkward.
“Pull your hands to your left, as far as you can.” This gave him another half inch of chain to work with. Sweat beaded on his face, even in the chill of the cooler. It stung his eyes and made it harder to see, especially in the dim and uneven light. He finally was able to ease the chain into the opening between the bolt cutter’s jaws.
The box holding the bomb gave another beep, making Jules jump. Her movement jerked the chain out of position.
“Jules.” He tried to keep his voice calm, although in his head, he was screaming. “Stay as still as possible.”
“Sorry,” she apologized in a small voice, moving her hands back to their original position. He lowered the bolt cutters again, working them around the chain until they were in position. “I’m really sorry if I get you killed, too.”
“Not your fault.” It was his. Once again, he’d been blind. Don, Sherry…who else was hiding their true desperation behind an amiable mask? He gritted his teeth as he squeezed the handles together. He’d missed the warning signs, and now Jules and Viggy could die.
The chain resisted, and Theo pressed harder, twisting the cutters from side to side until Jules gave a pained yelp.
“Sorry,” he told her, wiping the sweat from the side of his face onto his shoulder. “I can’t get a good angle.”
“No, I’m sorry.” Even in the bad lighting, her face looked too pale, almost green. “I’ll stop whining. Try again.”
Instead, he put down the bolt cutters and examined the chain. There was a small dent, but it wasn’t even close to being severed. The cuff around Jules’s right wrist had tightened even further, digging deeply into her flesh. A line of dark-red blood streaked the metal bracelet.
Theo swallowed a torrent of curse words. The cutters weren’t working. The way Jules was chained to the shelving prevented him from getting a good angle, one which would allow him to put enough pressure on the chain to cut it.
“Plan B,” he said, running a gentle finger over Jules’s purpling wrist and turning away. He was just going to have to use his rudimentary explosives knowledge and disarm the bomb.
No problem.
“Plan B?” Jules sounded a little panicky, but Theo figured she’d earned it. So far, she’d been pretty calm for a person chained in a walk-in cooler with a beeping bomb. “What’s plan B and how quickly can it get us out of here?”
“I’m just going to shut this thing down,” he said, still trying to use his calm voice. As Hugh and Otto had both told him many times, however, comforting people was not part of his skill set.
“Okay.” Her voice was higher-pitched than normal. “That sounds good. Shutting it down would be very good, especially if you can do that before it blows up.”
