“Conor, do you feel up to taking point again?” Louis asked.
The boy hesitated just a moment. “Don’t see how you could trust me after that. Got Enrique chilled, too.”
“Did you see that trip wire?” Louis asked.
The boy shook his head.
“Neither did the rest of us. Shit happens. All we can do is our best. I don’t think you’ll get any complaints from us.” He looked around the group meaningfully.
All the boys shook their heads.
“Can you do it?” Louis asked.
“I can try,” Conor replied.
Louis nodded. “That’s all we’re asking. Ready when you are.”
Conor took a deep breath, raked his gaze around the others looking for any last-minute changes of mind, then turned and took up his position.
Dean followed reluctantly, feeling that no matter where they went in the building, none of them were safe.
Chapter Thirty-Four
The convention center’s underground parking garage was a sargasso of rusting and stripped wags. Remnants of the yellow lines that had once separated the vehicles lay along the dust-covered concrete floor, brought into sharp relief by the oil lantern Jak had stolen from farther down the hall.
The albino held up the lantern and turned up the wick. More of the shadows in the garage peeled away. “Wall,” he said.
Krysty looked a few feet ahead of him and saw the solid concrete wall that ended their tangled journey through the steel husks. They’d gone down the emergency stairs on one side of the main lobby and followed them into the garage. The elevators didn’t work, nor did any of the other lights in the building.
Evidently whatever the power source the Five Barons had tapped into to establish their private killing ground, hadn’t been used to illuminate the convention center. Perhaps they didn’t have the power to spare. In either event, the decision worked in the companions’ favor.
“Doc?” Krysty said.
“This is the wall, dear lady,” the old man replied. He came forward with the small notebook he’d liberated from Bernsen’s pack.
On the sheets of paper, he’d carefully penciled in an outline of the building and the path they’d taken to get to the garage. Measurementsas close as he could approximate them by stepping off the distancewere tagged between marked arrowheads.
Doc tapped the paper. “I am sure this is it, Krysty, unless I am totally addled and cannot remember simple spatial and cartography skills. This building is not much of a challenge.”
“This section,” Krysty said, “overlooks the pit edge we spotted from the upstairs window?”
“A moment to confirm that, please.” Doc left her briefly, sliding through the rows of overturned cars.
Sentient hair at the back of Krysty’s neck coiled defensively. She turned, looking at Bernsen, who’d crept considerably closer while she’d presented her back to him.
“Don’t even think about it,” she warned, moving her hand to the butt of her blaster. “I’d kill you before you could touch me.”
“I wasn’t doing anything,” Bernsen said with the most innocence he could muster, but his shoulders dropped in dejection. He stuck out his lower lip and backed off a few feet.
Doc returned a moment later. “This is definitely the location, dear lady.”
Krysty approached the wall Doc had indicated and looked at the cinder blocks it was made of. Some of the mortar had cracked and worn away in places. Hunks and bits of it snapped and popped under her boots as she ran a hand along its surface to get a feel for it.
“Won’t take much,” Jak said. “Little plas ex probably make big hole.” He came up behind her and stood at her side.
“Think you’re right. Let’s get to it.”
Jak unhooked his backpack and started rummaging through its contents for the blocks of explosive.
Krysty kneaded the plas ex slightly before pushing it against the rough, uneven surface of the wall. When she had enough little balls in place, she stabbed a remote detonator into each.
“You sure Ryan inside now?” Jak asked as they finished blocking out the circular patch of the wall they’d chosen.
“Yes,” she said. Even though her mind swirled, threatening to conjure up all kinds of possibilities about what the near future might hold, she was convinced of her lover’s presence.