Desert Ice Daddy Marton, Dana (most motivational books .TXT) 📖

the abyss, held by nothing but a torn sleeve and her fingertips.

Boots pounded on metal stairs somewhere below them, inside the building.

“Try to swing back to the chimney.” Akeem helped by giving her a boost.

She let go of his half-torn sleeve that wouldn’t have supported her anyway, shoved her feet against the side of the building. Her other hand did slip out of Akeem’s then, and she did fall.

But she fell in the right direction, and she could lurch her weight toward the spikes. She grabbed on to one, and just barely avoided another one skewering her side.

“Go around.” Akeem jumped to a spike above her with his usual graceful agility.

“Around where?” She looked around, bewildered.

There was shouting on the roof now. Those men would reach the edge in seconds and pick her and Akeem off with two easy shots.

But Akeem was already moving, and she could see now that a lot of the bricks had been damaged over the years, chunks missing here and there. He was moving foothold by foothold, handhold by handhold to put the chimneystack between him and the approaching men.

She didn’t hesitate, but did the same.

The chimney was wide enough even up here, so that if they made it to the other side, they would be completely invisible from the roof.

She barely slipped out of view when she heard, “Where the hell are they?” bellowed with full force.

Some shuffling sounded next.

“Could be they climbed down and got in on the floor below us,” another voice responded.

There was a moment of silence, then, “Jimmy stays here.”

The sound of boots on the roof came next, running in the opposite direction.

She looked at Akeem.

He mouthed a single word, “Stay.”

She didn’t have a problem with that. She watched with her heart in her throat as he inched to the side. Peeked around. Pulled back.

Then he let go with his right hand. And she was shaking with nerves just watching him. Their situation was precarious enough. All her strength was barely enough to keep her where she was. If one foot or hand slipped, she would fall to her death. And here he was, willfully dangling.

She held her breath as he pulled a knife, leaned to the side again, then aimed. The weapon sailed through the air with a hiss, closely followed by a thud.

Then Akeem was moving forward. “I got him. Come on.”

She didn’t hesitate. The iron spikes that had seemed way too flimsy before now felt like the height of security. Akeem pulled himself up to the bridge and reached back for her. This time, they made it to the roof without trouble.

Akeem took the guy’s gun and stuck it into his waistband next to his other weapon. He didn’t bother with the knife.

She hesitated for a second, bent over, pulled it from the man’s chest then wiped the blade and put it away. She only shrugged at Akeem’s questioning look. It wasn’t just the tough-for-a-girl thing anymore. She was being tough for her son.

They stole across the roof, down the stairs and found themselves on a gangplank inside that overlooked some odd machinery. Nobody down there that she could see. Maybe the men had already moved on with their search. Everything smelled oily, even in here.

Akeem crept across the gangplank, then down to the floor below. She followed just as carefully. A long wall divided the space, closing off the area to their left. They moved along the wall, in the cover of some pipes.

When they came across a window opening to another space, they dipped low and walked in a crouch, and since she was shorter than Akeem, she caught a gap in the wall that Akeem hadn’t. Something moved on the other side.

Akeem wasn’t looking at her, and she couldn’t say anything. Anyone on the other side could hear.

The board next to the gap was loose. She moved it a fraction at a time, stopped as soon as she had an inch or so to look through, although she could have moved it farther.

Christopher was sleeping in a corner not ten feet from her. Tears gathered in her eyes at the sight of his sweet, smudged little face. She blinked them away to clear her vision. She’d cry later, tears of joy, when her son was back in her arms again.

Her heart lurched into a mad race. He was here. God, they were so close. She pulled back to survey the board. Akeem was way ahead of her now. Something was drawing his attention there, and he hadn’t noticed that she had stayed behind.

And she still didn’t dare make a sound. So she turned her attention to something she could do—the board.

The gap was too small for her to get in. But if she could somehow get her son’s attention, he could come to her. She could possibly move that board enough for him to squeeze through.

Maybe whoever was guarding him was sleeping, too, or had left the room to search the building with the others for her and Akeem. Try as she might, she couldn’t see the whole room from her vantage point.

Wake up, honey. Wake up and come to Mommy. She sent her thoughts across the space between them. Christopher did stir, but didn’t open his eyes.

Probably wouldn’t have made a difference if she said the words aloud. He always could sleep through anything from summer storms to tractor motors. He was just like her brother, Flint.

She had slid the board back as far as she could. She hadn’t made a noise so far. The hole was big enough. He would fit, she knew he would. Please, God, let him be alone in there.

He was so close. He could make his way over to her in seconds. Once he was close enough to the hole, she could reach in and pull him through. Then she would grab him up and rush after Akeem. Akeem would find a way to lead them out of here.

Mommy is here. Everything is going to be fine. Wake