Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 107096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
A manhole in your garage was a pretty useful thing to have. If the owner had been the sort of guy to build an illegal extension, he was probably the sort who’d pour oil and paint down there, instead of disposing of it properly. Which meant he’d need a hook, to lift the cover. I searched the walls, the floor…and finally saw it hanging from the ceiling above my head.
I grabbed the hook, then leaned out over the flames. It was like putting my face an inch from the coals of a barbecue. Sweat was pouring off me and sizzling as it dripped into the fire, like I was the pig at a hog roast. I gritted my teeth and tried to thread the hook into the hole in the manhole cover. But between the flames, the smoke and the tears in my eyes, I could barely see. Come on! I glanced at Tanya. She barely seemed to be breathing. Come on! The hook bounced off the hole again. And now I had a new problem: the flames were heating the metal and it was starting to burn my hands. Come on!
The hook slipped into the hole. I heaved and lifted and a circle of darkness appeared below us.
I clambered to my knees and hauled Tanya up and over my shoulder. Then I winced and jumped down into the flames. They danced around my legs: by now, my clothes had dried out and I saw the fabric starting to catch. Where’s the ladder? Where’s the ladder?!
I found it and started to climb down into the darkness but my pants were alight now, flames spreading and climbing. I went down the ladder as fast as I could, but when I was still six feet from the water below, I felt my legs start to erupt in pain and I cursed, prayed and let go.
I plunged into icy, neck-deep water. Tanya jerked awake, spluttered and grabbed me around the neck. The air was foul and God knows what we were swimming in but after the choking fumes and the heat of the garage, it felt like bathing in a Swiss mountain stream.
The water was flowing fast because of the rain and we let the current carry us through the darkness until we could breathe again. Then we caught hold of a ladder and climbed back up to the surface.
I inched the manhole cover up cautiously, in case we were emerging in the middle of a street. But it was some sort of pedestrianized area, calm and quiet. I lifted the cover and shoved it aside, then slithered out and helped Tanya out.
Then we just lay there, letting the cooling rain hammer down on our bodies, not caring at all that passers-by were staring at us. We were too exhausted and too glad to be alive. I offered up a little prayer of thanks to C. Sew, Esquire.
When the rain had washed away the worst of the sewer and some life had started to creep back into my muscles, I rolled over and scooched back against a low wall, pulling Tanya with me. I had no idea where in Manhattan we were, but it was some sort of paved area, with lots of greenery. My legs hurt and I figured I had some burns, and I wasn’t sure I was ever going to get the chemical taste of the smoke out of my mouth. But all that mattered was that she was okay. I’d saved her. And she’d saved me, stopping me going up against Maravić. It stung my ego, but I was no match for him when he had a knife.
Tanya slumped against me. “We still don’t know,” she said, sounding utterly defeated.
I put my arm around her and stroked her hair. Even in the middle of all this, the feel of her against me and the sound of her accent was enough to lift me inside. God, I needed this woman. But she was determined to stay isolated, to keep torturing herself. And I had no idea how to break through to her.
I forced myself to focus. She was right. We’d used up our only lead. Maravić would have cleared the garage out by now so if we went back, there’d be nothing. And we still didn’t know what he was planning. What were the pipes? Why did he need guns?
I sighed and looked around. Where the hell were we, anyway? It wasn’t Central Park and I couldn’t think of anywhere else in Manhattan where there was this much open space.
Then I peered through the driving rain and saw the shape of the emptiness in front of me: an immense square, surrounded by a parapet. I twisted around and saw the matching square behind me. And my stomach sank as realization hit. There shouldn’t be this much open space in Manhattan.