Hair of the Dog by Gordon Carroll (reading strategies book TXT) 📗

got me to coughing so bad I didn’t know if I could stop. But I had to, so I did. I lay Max on the gravel and headed back into the smoky darkness.

Cops and firemen have a little inner service rivalry and we joke with each other a good deal, but say what you want, it’s no fun running into burning buildings. Personally…I hate it.

My lungs screamed as I found Jerome where I’d left him. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing and that was a bad sign. Having plenty of room there on the platform, I performed a textbook, Battle Field Roll, coming off the floor with him, all three hundred pounds, held tight over my shoulder. Going up the stairs was a little slower than it had been with Max, and once out of the chimney I collapsed, dropping him harder than would have been acceptable to a field medic. But hey, I was no more a medic than I was a pet detective.

I coughed up gunk that had the color and consistency of the tar beneath the gravel I was kneeling on, and this time, I couldn’t stop for at least three minutes. Falling on my back, I tried to suck in as much nighttime air as my lungs would allow. Sweat and blood ran freely down my hairline and I began to notice that the gravel was becoming hot beneath me.

Rolling over to all fours, I saw that Max was standing. He looked shaky, but he didn’t look hurt. Jerome was still out. I walked over to the retaining wall and looked down. Flames and smoke surrounded the building, working their way both up and down.

My original plan had been to repel down from the eighth floor window and avoid all the guards in the stairwells, but repelling straight down now was impossible without getting crisped or smoked out. Just in case, I’d brought along a couple of rope climbers. I took the climbers and a roll of rope out of the backpack and hooked them to my belt with a carabiner.

I went back to Jerome and dragged him to the wall. Then I cut the rope that held the grappling hook to the zip line. That left about five feet of rope to work with. I hoisted Jerome up and let him lean across my shoulder while I ran the rope through the carabiners and my harness. Then I hooked his harness to mine with my last carabiner.

Max moved away from the shed as flames started poking through spots on the roof. The tar and gravel were turning to liquid.

With no time to waste, I held an arm out to him.

“Let’s go for a ride buddy. Here!”

As he started to move, a large section of the flooring between us caved into what looked like the entrance to Hades. Max was cut off from me. I started to unhook from Jerome when the wall we were standing by collapsed into space, taking us with it. I felt gravity take hold and we swung out and down. I saw the wall to the other building coming insanely fast and there was no breaking from here because this was no rigged zip line, just a straight pendulum. I jerked Jerome around so his body would take the brunt of the impact. It was a cold move, but I had to stay conscious if I was to have any chance of saving Max. We hit hard, and even through Jerome’s big frame, I felt the shock of the blow. I shook it off. I had to get back to Max. I spotted the closest window about three feet below us and let out enough rope. I got my feet straight against the wall, pushed back, and let us fall. We crashed through the window in a spray of glittering glass. I barely managed to grip the window sill to keep us from sweeping back out. Little slivers of glass lacerated my fingers and palms. I gripped Jerome with my legs, hauled him up and over the sill, then took out my K-Bar and cut off Jerome’s harness. He fell like a three hundred pound sack of flour on the floor and lay still.

Fire engines were arriving, their strobes and sirens stabbing through the smoke.

I clipped the climber to the rope at chest level and down around my knees and hooked my feet in the straps. I was racing against time and Max didn’t have much.

The Alpha had abandoned him and the smoke and heat were everywhere. Max bit at the red tendrils of flame as they attacked him, but each time, they danced away, leaving only pain behind. Never in his life had he experienced fire like this and he could only comprehend it as he would any other enemy. But attacking proved useless, so he backed away and moved around the edge of the burning hole that gaped through the roof. He first headed to the elevator shed, but the ground turned soft and hot and then started to melt into itself. Max had to jump back as the entire structure fell into the ever-widening gap of smoking heat from below. He moved in a cautious circle, checking each step and eventually coming back to the wall where he had crashed into the building. He smelled the Alpha on the grappling hook and rope and a rage of his own burned hot at the thought of the Alpha letting the Pack be destroyed like this. The Alpha had proven himself insufficient in protecting the Pack. Pilgrim would be the only one left, and Pilgrim was too weak to protect even himself.

Max should have heeded his instincts and taken control when he had the chance. Now it was too late. Max looked past the destroyed part of the wall and saw the darkness below.

Making it to the roof, I unhooked from the harness and sprinted to the elevator shed. I had only a half-formulated plan