Crush - Alan Jacobson [151]
Eddie. Dead?
I’ll kill that bastard. I’ll break every bone in his body—
“Roxxi, calm down,” Brix said in a low voice. “Relax.”
He must’ve felt me tensing. “I’m gonna kill him, Redd—”
“Shh,” he said, placing a hand over her mouth. “Hold that thought,” he whispered. “Let’s catch him first.”
They were moving down a long, narrow corridor when suddenly the lights went out. They both stopped. Brought their handguns up, adrenaline flooding their system.
Ready for a fight.
FIFTY-EIGHT
Vail backed up against the nearest wall and crouched down low, into as small a target as possible. Unless
Mayfield had night vision goggles, she would be nearly impossible for him to find. But she could not rule out him having NVGs—because, thus far, he seemed to be prepared. And because his ending up at the castle might’ve been by design.
But it couldn’t be. He did not have NVGs. He was as much in the dark as she was.
Then why would he cut the lights?
Unless he knew where I was when he took them out. Move—I have to move. Vail clambered to her left, attempting to be quiet, but the scrape of her shoes against the cement flooring, the fine gravel and detritus from the people who’d walked through here today made stealth difficult. But that worked both ways.
She continued left, bumped into a wall—brought up her right hand and felt around—barrels. Took a step forward to move around them—and stopped. Someone was coming. Noise in the distance.
Vail rose, backed up behind the barrels and brought her Glock in close to her body, holding it low, so it couldn’t be easily knocked from her hands.
Waited. Footsteps.
BRIX HELD HIS SIG-SAUER out in front of him, the Maglite alongside the barrel, illuminating the area in front of him. In such narrow quarters, Dixon had to follow single file behind him. She was a good five feet back, giving adequate spacing.
Up ahead, she saw the mouth to another, larger room. Brix stopped. Dixon stopped.
VAIL LISTENED. Moved forward slightly, peeked around the edge of the barrel. Saw the flicker of a light. Then it went out.
Her heartbeat accelerated. She felt it pounding, an aching in her head, a pulsing in her ears. She backed up a step away from the edge and listened.
“WHAT?” DIXON WHISPERED.
Brix shut his light. “A room up ahead.”
“Could be the one Karen’s in.”
“If so, Mayfield could be in there, too.”
“Split up?”
Brix nodded, leaned in close to her ear. “I’ll take the light. If he goes after someone, it’ll be me because he’ll know where I am.”
Dixon gave a thumbs up. Brix lit up his Maglite and pressed forward. The room ahead appeared to be large, with curvilinear brick ceilings, like multiple gazebos launching from thick square columns.
As Brix disappeared into the room, Dixon started ahead herself, wanting to shout into the dark, “Karen, you in here?” But she knew that was the absolute wrong thing to do. She didn’t even dare open her phone in the darkness, as that would surely give away her position.
But just as she’d gone about fifteen paces into the large room, she saw Brix’s flashlight go flying from his hand. He let out a sickening thump and, in the twirling and carnival-like swirl of his light as it spun on the ground, he appeared to drop to the floor with an even louder thud.
Dixon started to rush forward, then stopped. Mayfield was here. She had to get to him before he killed Brix—if he hadn’t already. She had to risk it. “Karen!”
VAIL SAW THE LIGHT advancing into the room, footsteps approaching. She backed up further, Glock out in front of her, taking an angle on the imminent arrival of her guest. The light was moving, bouncing the way it would with someone’s gait. Or if it were held out in front of you against your gun.
But she didn’t dare call out.
A noise—skin on bone—and the light went flying to the ground. A bump. Something hit the cement. A body?
“Karen!”
Vail looked out into the near darkness. Dixon. “Over here!”
And then she saw something dark spring toward her, a mass like a