Page 105 of At Midnight Comes the Cry
“We could—”
“No.” Russ dropped the word hard and heavy. He drew his breath in for one more try. “Can we negotiate?” he shouted. “What do you want?”
This time, the bullet hit the corner next to the damaged glass doors, spraying splinters and slivers of cement, leaving a gouged and cracked crater in the smooth surface of the wall.
“A very good shot,” Johnson amended.
“Goddammit.” Russ scrubbed at his face. “Back. Now.”
10.
They had just gotten the crowd more or less settled and were fielding questions when they heard the first rifle shot, loudly echoing across the concourse’s bare surfaces. Clare spun around, the screams behind her fading into the background as she focused all her attention on trying to see where Russ was.
Jess Oppenheim tugged hard on her pants. “Clare! Get. Down!”
Another shot. She clenched her hands, shaking with the need to race northward and verify her husband was whole and unhurt. Instead, she collapsed into a seated position on the floor next to Jess.He wants you here, where it’s safe.If there was anywhere safe down in this windowless tomb.
“Look at me. Clare, look at me.” The rabbi took her hand, tugged it, turning Clare around so they were face-to-face. “You and I cannot lose it, you understand? Or everyone here is going to go into a raw panic.”
A third shot. A kind of moan rose up from the dozens of men, women, and children pressed against the shining tile floor. She watched as a mother curled around her protesting child.Ethan.She needed to be calm, be calm and not think of what might be happening halfway up the concourse, and escape. For Ethan. She took a deep breath.
“Okay?” Jess wiped a stray lock of hair off Clare’s forehead.
“Okay.”
“Everybody, let’s sit up.” The rabbi let her voice fill the space. “Everyone hold hands. Let’s pray. ‘I lift up my eyes to the mountains: from where will my help come? My help comes from God, maker of heaven and earth.’” She looked at Clare meaningfully.
Clare nodded. “‘He will not allow your foot to slip; He who watches you will not slumber. Behold, He who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.’” People’s heads were bent; she could hear a susurration as they whispered along with the words.
Jess took up the next verses. “‘God is your keeper; God is your shade upon your right hand. The sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.’”
Clare could hear footsteps behind them, but she remained facing—the congregation—forward. “‘The Lord will protect you from all evil; He will keep your soul.’”
As if they had rehearsed it, she and Jess finished together, “‘God will guard your going out and your coming in, from this time on and forever.’”
The rabbi squeezed her hand tightly and spoke in a low voice. “And there are our friends, returned safe.” Clare twisted around to see Johnson and Kevin, and oh, thank God, Russ. She and Jess stood. “What happened?” the rabbi asked.
“We can’t go north.” Russ also kept his voice low. “There’s a gunman at the back of the corridor leading to the parking garage.”
“We didn’t try it,” Johnson added, “but my guess is he’s not going to let anyone cross that line, get to any other exits.”
“Why can’t we just move the bombs as far away as possible?” The rabbi pointed toward where Russ and the guards had just come from.
“Two reasons.” Russ held up one finger. “First, if the gunman down in that corridor peeks out and sees what we’re doing, he can have the signal sent to trigger the devices.” He held up another finger. “Second, the concourse acts like a tunnel. If a massed explosion goes off forty feet away from us, half the force will travel away from us. But the other half will be channeled straight toward us.”
“Maybe they’re not powerful enough to cause real damage?” Thetone of Jess’s voice told Clare the woman didn’t really believe it even as she asked.
“The militia’s put a helluva lot of effort into trapping us here, Rabbi. I doubt they’ve left the lethality of their explosives to chance.”
Clare, looking past them, was the first to see the glass doors opening. “Little help here!” the doctor shouted. He, the paramedic, Yíxin, and Hadley all held a corner of the tablecloth, bowed down beneath Paul Terrance’s weight and soaked through with blood.
Several men raced forward to relieve them of their burden. The doctor pointed toward one of the long folding tables, and they carefully settled the ranger on its surface. “Ladies, I need tampons and sanitary pads. Any tampons and sanitary pads, bring ’em here.”
Jess looked at Clare, eyebrows raised. “Field dressing. Almost as effective as what you’d find in a trauma pack.” She reached out and snagged Russ’s shirt before he could cross to the table. “Love, give them space. There’s nothing you can do right now.”
“I—” He paused. “I sent him up there, Clare.” His voice was husky.
“I know. And the best thing you can do right now is to figure how we’re going to get him out of here.” Hadley walked toward them, wiping her hands on a wad of paper napkins, silver and blue turned carmine. As she passed Kevin, he held his hand out and murmured something. She flickered a smile at him and gave him the bloody wad. He trotted toward one of the garbage cans.
