“Holy shit, what the hell was that?” Dunne shouted as muffled blasts sounded ahead of them.
“It sounds like an explosion,” Jackson observed as a second one followed immediately by a third, forth and fifth. The sounds running so closely together the five men
lost track of how many they counted as they ran towards the area housing the fast food court rimmed by other stores.
Fire alarms screamed out warnings as the men instinctively ran for the area the sounds emanated from. They passed screaming people as they ran, men and women
dropped packages and picked up their kids as they hurried to get away from the collapsing structure.
Neither man voiced their worries as they were brought up short by fires and the collapsing roof. They silently prayed their two friends weren’t in the mayhem they
saw before them. Pushing the fears out of their minds they ran to help the injured.
JD pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed Chris’s cell number. He felt four sets of eyes watching him and knew they were hoping the call would be
answered. He let it ring ten times before hanging up.
“Try Vin,” Jackson ordered even as Dunne’s finger hit the speed dial.
“Nothing,” the young Bostonian told them as the call went unanswered.
“Fuck!” Wilmington hissed, running towards the Food Court.
“Buck, wait!” Sanchez snapped as he grabbed the moustached man’s arm. “We need to help these people first.”
The ladies man stared around at people in various stages of panic and knew the ex-preacher was right. “Shit,” he mumbled as he knelt beside a young girl dressed in
an Arby’s uniform. The tag on her shirt read Angie and he saw the blood oozing from a cut on the back of her head. He knew he shouldn’t move her and so ran his
hands slowly down her body, the way he’d learned in the First Aid courses. He didn’t feel anything broken and smiled thinly as a pair of terrified green eyes shot
open and she tried to sit up.
“Just lie still, Angie, you’ve got a cut on the back of your head,” Wilmington advised her as he tore a piece of his shirt and held it to her head. “Stay put,” he ordered
as he turned to aid a man whose arm was bent at an awkward angle. He watched as the man tried to lift himself off the floor. “Hang on, Buddy, let me help you
here,” Buck opened the guy’s shirt and placed his arm inside, turning it into a makeshift sling.
“Thanks, Mister,” the man said as he climbed to his feet.
“You’re welcome. Are you able to walk to the main doors on your own?”
“Sure, I’ll be fine.”
“C...can I come with you, Mister?” Angie asked.
“Sure, Miss, maybe we can help each other.”
“You two take it easy,” Buck said as he watched the two strangers depart.
JD and Nathan knelt beside an elderly couple. The man refused to move without his wife and Nathan knew by the angle of her neck the woman died instantly. A
heavy slab of board struck her from behind and she was dead before she hit the floor. The man sat beside her, blood streaming from a cut along his arm, his soft sobs
a sign he knew his wife was gone from him. JD bit his lip as he tried to help Jackson care for the older man.
“Oh, Milly, my poor little Milly. Why?” he screamed in a raspy voice as he looked from Jackson to Dunne. “Why would he take her like this?”
“Josiah,” Jackson called, resting a arm across the old man's back.
“Yes, Brother,” Sanchez said as he hurried towards the medic. He saw the distraught man kneeling beside the woman and knew from his cries why Jackson called
him. “Sir, we need to get you out of here,” the ex-preacher soothed.
“I can’t leave Milly. She’s afraid of being alone. Always has been. Why would he take her from me?”
Sanchez remained silent, letting the man talk through his grief.
“He shouldn’t have taken her. Not now, Mister. She just got out of the hospital last week. We came here cause it’s our golden wedding anniversary. She’s been so
sick and the doctors didn’t think she’d make it, but she did and now he takes her like this. Please, Milly, don’t go!” He gasped as he reached trembling, aged hands
towards the woman he’d married fifty years ago today.
“God, takes special people to live with him. Milly must’ve been pretty special for him to want her so bad,” Sanchez explained as he watched Jackson and Dunne
move to help Ezra with a family of four hurrying through the billowing smoke.
“Milly was real special. She volunteered at the hospital and at the home we live in. She sang with our church choir,” the man sobbed, his shoulders trembling, his
heart breaking as Sanchez reached out and held him.
“She’ll be waiting for you when the time comes, Brother. A love such as your transcends all boundaries.”
“She’ll be there?” the man looked at Josiah, pain and anguish like Sanchez had never seen evident in the pale blue grey eyes.
“She’ll be waiting for you in heaven. Now why don’t you go with this gentlemen and let him get you outside?”
“B...but, Milly...”
“Would Milly want you to stay here and cry over her when it’s only her body that’s here?”
“N...No,” the elderly man mumbled as he felt strong hands pull him to his feet.
“She’d want you to take care of yourself wouldn’t she?”
“Y...yes,” the man let the newcomer take his arm and lead him away. “T...thank you, Mister,” he whispered as he walked away.
Sanchez nodded and removed his jacket, covering the woman’s head and shoulders with it. He hurried towards another man tumbling from the haze of smoke
billowing towards them from the fast food court. “Are you okay?” he asked. The man nodded as he raced past in his haste to escape the destruction. Sanchez turned
his attention to helping his friends care for the injured who were still streaming from the area the explosions emanated from.
Chris slowly moved, crying out as he jarred his injured shoulder. He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in his ribs made him realize it might not be a good idea at the
moment. He reached up and touched the left side of his head, his fingers coming away sticky. “What the hell happened?” he thought as he finally made it to his feet.
His shoulder was either broken or dislocated, either way he needed to immobilize it as best he could before he moved around. He slid his arm into his shirt and
gasped as lights danced in front of his eyes. He waited for the dizziness to ease and finally looked around at the destruction and chaos.
Wires hung from the collapsed ceiling, pipes hissed and sputtered as water dropped into the small fire around him. Smoke, black and thick, covered half the area he
was in. He knew he needed to get out from under the barriers and escape. The dark smoke threatened to choke the life from his lungs and he shook his head, trying
to ward off the confusion he felt. Pain lanced through his skull as he tried to think. A sound from behind an untouched kitchen counter caused a hysterical laugh to
pass his lips. "I'll have a pretzel with all the toppings," he laughed as he saw the sign over the small kitchen. "Shit," he cried, as the laugh caused more pain to filter into
his confused mind. "Where the hell am I?" he asked. The sound came again and he looked towards the counter. He moved sluggishly towards it and glanced over the
top. The sight that met his eyes drove the breath from his lungs. "Oh Jesus, Vin!" he screamed, ignoring his injuries and climbing over the counter.
He landed heavily on the other of the counter and cried out as his ribs pounded against his chest. He trembled on shaky legs as he made his way to the fallen man. He
knelt beside his fallen friend and gasped as his shoulder throbbed with mind numbing pain. He saw the deep gash over Tanner’s right ear and flinched. He knew by
the amount of blood matting his hair, Vin would probably be suffering from a concussion. “Hell, Larabee, you’ve got one of your own,” he mumbled as his vision
blurred. He kept his eyes closed until the dizziness passed and the nausea disappeared.
He used his left hand to check for broken bones, running his fingers up and down both side of the sharpshooter’s body. He felt a couple move as he touch the left
side. “Fuck, Vin, looks like we’re in the same boat.” Larabee gently prodded both legs and found a large tear along the right thigh, just above the knee. Dark blood
continued to pool around the area at an alarming rate. Chris ripped a piece from the bottom of his shirt. He bit back a scream as his arm dislodged from the inside of
his shirt. “Shit!” he gasped as the flood of pain finally eased. He used the shirt and pressed against Vin’s leg, grimacing as he watched the pain come unbidden to his
friend’s face. The pale almost gray skin of the sharpshooter’s face worried him and he was grateful the man was unconscious as he tended his wounds.
The emergency lighting flickered and Chris swore as they went out. The darkness lasted no more than a minute before the bright orange lights glowed eerily. The
sound of water hissing reminded him there were fires all over the area. The smoke didn’t reach where they were, but he knew it wasn’t going to stay that way much
longer.
He turned his attention back to his friend and was surprised to see two very intense blue eyes staring up at him. “Hey, Vin, how’re you feeling?”
“Like someone beat the shit outta me. What the fuck happened?” Tanner groaned, wincing as Larabee pressed down on the leg wound again.
“What do you remember?” Chris asked, hoping to find out if the younger man had any residual effects from the blow to the head.
“We were shopping for...” he closed his eyes and tried to force the memories to come. “Shit! We were buying you a shirt. Hell, Larabee, if you felt so strongly about
wearing green you could’ve told us instead of taking out the whole mall,” Tanner hissed painfully.
Larabee smiled at the younger man’s attempt at humor in spite of the situation. “I don’t feel this strongly, Tanner,” he told his friend.
“Shit, Paul Gardener!” the sharpshooter hissed as he tried to sit up.
“Wait, let me make sure this has stopped bleeding,” Larabee ordered, lifting the makeshift bandage and checking the wound. He pressed the blood soaked bandage
down once more as the blood continued to well up from the nasty wound. “Vin, I’m gonna see if they have any of those little white towels around here. You stay
put!” The blond stood up and staggered to the door leading into the storage area. He propped the door open with a milk crate, ignoring the rising bile in his stomach.
He found the drawers and pulled them open until he found a dozen of the clean towels and a roll of masking tape. He pulled them from the drawer and rejoined his
friend. He knew Tanner didn’t hear him come back, evidenced by the pain etched in the handsome face. “How are you doing, Vin?” he asked.
“I...I’m okay, Chris, what about you?”
“I’m fine,” Larabee answered and the two men broke into laughter. “It’s a good thing Nathan’s not around...” his voice trailed off as he wondered about the
whereabouts of the five missing men. Were they in the food court area when the explosions occurred? Were they hurt or buried in the rubble somewhere?
“They weren’t here, Cowboy,” Tanner assured his friend, his own worry showing in the pain in his eyes.
Larabee nodded in agreement, going to work on the sharpshooter’s leg.
Tanner watched the other man, he could read the pain in the green eyes and on the handsome face. He knew by the way Larabee moved that he was hurting, he
favored his left side and the sharpshooter figured there were a couple of broken ribs his friend was trying to contend with. “Chris?”
Larabee lifted his face and turned his eyes on the longhaired man. “What’s wrong?” he asked worriedly.
“How bad are you hurt?”
“Not as bad as it could’ve been. Hold this,” he ordered as he reached for the masking tape. Tanner held the thick towel in place over the leg wound as Larabee used
his teeth to pull a strip of tape from the roll and wrap it around the leg. He ignored Vin's bitten off cry of agony and continued to work. The blond gritted his teeth as
the movement jarred his arm. He sat down next to his friend as he finished taping the makeshift bandage in place.
“Is the arm broke?” Tanner asked softly. He was having trouble focusing, but tried to concentrate. He needed to keep his wits about him until help arrived.
“Think so. Sure as hell feels like it,” Larabee leaned his head back against the counter and closed his eyes.
“Make sure you don’t do too much with it.”
Larabee turned his attention to the head wound and frowned. The deep laceration needed to be cleaned and covered. He looked around and spotted a bottle of
mineral water in the corner. The blond reached for it and looked into his friend’s glazed eyes. He knew Tanner was probably suffering from a concussion. Chris also
realized the young man was trying to fight off the dizziness and nausea that went with it. He cleaned the blood from the matted hair and pressed another towel against
the wound. “Hold this,” he took Tanner’s right hand and held it against the thin towel. The Firm’s leader used his teeth and tore off several strips of tape. Once he
finished securing the bandage he met his friends gaze once more. The eyes seemed to focus on him, but there was still a glassy quality to them. He stuffed a few of the
towels into one pocket and the roll of tape in the other, knowing they'd probably need both before the day was over.
His worry grew as he watched the younger man turn away. Chris held him as he lost the meal he consumed before their world exploded around them. He helped
Tanner sit back against the counter and spoke with grim determination. “We have to find a way out of here before the smoke is overpowering. There’s a couple of
electrical fires and the smoke around where Gardener pushed the button is thick and black. I’m gonna check and see if anyone needs help.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“Vin, You’ve got a concussion and you can’t move around much with that leg. I don’t want it to start bleeding again.”
"I'm not sitting around here while you're out there, Larabee!" the eyes flashed in anger, "So just shut up and give me a hand!"
“Vin, you’ve got broken ribs and a serious head wound...”
“Join the club, Chris, I saw the way you were holding your side and that cut on your head is probably gonna take a few stitches to close up.”
Larabee grinned at his friend and extended his hand. He knew as long as Tanner was conscious he’d move. He looked around and realized this was probably not the
safest place for them to be. Chris felt Tanner’s left hand grasp his and pulled. The two men fought back cries of pain as the sharpshooter made it to his feet.
“Shit!” Vin cried as he tried to put weight on the injured limb. He leaned heavily against the counter and surveyed the damage surrounding them. The ceiling collapsed
over ground zero where the explosions took place. They’d been saved because of their own quick thinking and their physical conditioning. He looked at the blond
and knew he was thinking the same thing. “We better check for survivors and get the hell outta here,” he said as a mute groaning came from overhead. He looked up
as chunks of plaster and wood began to fall around them. “Chris!” he shouted.
“Lets go!” Larabee hissed as the two men climbed awkwardly over the countertop.
“Shit!” Tanner exclaimed as the kitchen they’d just been in collapsed in on itself. He doubled over and sank to the floor as his leg gave out. He clenched his eyes as
he held his arm against his ribs. He peeled them open and looked to his right, he shook his head as his vision blurred. Once the dizzy spell passed he forced his eyes
open and once more turned to his friend. “Chris, are you okay?”
The blond turned his head and met his friend’s gaze. “If I look anything like you I’d have to say no,” he smiled as he climbed to shaky legs once more. He felt Tanner
pull himself up beside him. Both men looked into the kitchen they’d been standing in. The space they occupied minutes before was totally obliterated by the plaster,
wood, metal, and anything else that made up the structure of the mall’s food court.
“Well, I guess we’re not gettin’ out that way,” Tanner observed. “Let’s see if anyone needs our help,” the sharpshooter said as he hopped away from the destroyed
counter. His stomach rebelled with the movement, yet he refused to give into it. There’d be time enough for that once they found a way out or rescue arrived. He
could hear his friend following him and knew neither of them was in shape to help anyone. ‘Never stopped us before,’ he thought with a pale grin.
“Vin,” Larabee stopped suddenly and felt in his pants pocket.
The sniper pulled up short, swearing under his breath as he put a little too much weight on his injured leg. He turned and watched his friends anxious movements.
“Chris, what the hell is wrong with ya?”
“I lost my cell phone. Did you bring yours?”
“Hell, yeah,” Tanner grinned as he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out the cell.
Chris watched the excitement fade as the unit came apart in his friend’s hand.
“Dammit!” the younger man snapped as he dropped the remnants on the Nokia to the floor. “S...sorry, Chris.”
Larabee reached out and grabbed his friends arm as he swayed. “I think we’d better rest for a few minutes,” he said, his voice full of the same disappointment he
could see on his Tanner’s face.
Nathan Jackson watched as the rescue workers began tearing away the pile of rubble blocking the way into the fast food court. He could see Buck, Josiah, Ezra and
JD digging into the debris alongside men and women in city uniforms. It was over three hours since the initial explosion and so far the death toll stood at fifteen. Some
were killed outright by flying debris, others suffered severe injuries and they succumbed to them before they reached the hospital.
Nathan sighed heavily as he wondered where Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner were at the moment. They continued to call both numbers periodically, but met with no
success. He prayed the cell phones were broken and that was why they received no answer. He knew the city rescue workers and firemen were trying to get to
ground zero, but so far no luck. Whatever caused the explosion succeeded in cutting the area off and he could only hope they found people alive behind the barrier.
Smoke continued to billow out through cracks in the debris, but it wasn’t as thick or heavy as when they first began working on it.
Jackson turned back to the triage area, where men, women and children waited for transportation to the hospital. The critically injured were long since removed and
now it was mainly minor injuries facing them. He walked between some of the patients and stood beside a paramedic. The Medic was trying to console a young
woman whose husband was among the critically injured. He was one of the first people to be taken away by ambulance and she would be leaving in the next one.
Her right ankle was broken and the paramedics immobilized it while she waited. Nathan looked at the small boy seated at the end of the row. The child had a cut on
his arm that would require several stitches and they’d placed it in a sling while they waited for help to arrive. He looked around at the rows of blankets where people
were either sitting or lying down. He shook his head and wondered why some were spared while others suffered. There was nothing he could do to help here.
Instead he turned to the wall of debris and walked towards his friends, intent on helping find their missing members.
Chris and Vin continued to search the area. So far they'd found four people, all dead, killed by the initial blast. They struggled painfully over broken tables, garbage
cans, pots and pans and other debris. The fires were pretty well out but the smoke lingered, causing both injured men's eyes to tear and burn. The coughing had
begun and they knew it wouldn’t be long before the poisonous smoke spread through out the area. They were able to find bottled water in a fridge that was tipped
on its side outside one of the counters. They took a couple each and closed the door, knowing they could get more when they needed it. Both men knew how
important it was to keep up their fluid intake.
Vin swore as he staggered and went down on his right leg, jagged pain running from the gash on his thigh outwards to encompass his whole leg. “Shit! Son of a
Bitch,” he gasped as Larabee knelt beside him and lifted the blood soaked towel.
“Vin, you’re gonna have to stay off this leg. You’re losing too much blood,” the blond ordered. He pulled one of the towels he’d taken the time to tuck into the back
pocket of his jeans and placed it over the wound. He sympathized with the younger man as he heard the sharp intake of breath from Tanner. “Sorry,” he muttered as
he quickly replaced the soaked towel.
“Fuck, Chris!” Tanner lifted his body off the floor as Larabee increased the pressure on his injured leg.
“S...sorry, Vin, I’ve got to stop the bleeding.”
“I...I know, just gimme a minute,” the sharpshooter hissed.