Remember Tuesday Morning (24 page)

All of it pressed in against his heart and made him glad he’d called his mom, because it was a step. If the first place where evil needed to be conquered was within, then he would check himself from time to time. As for his broken relationship with the Lord, that would have to wait. Right now there were more urgent matters at hand. He squinted at the freeway ahead and moved into the right lane. The exit was a mile up.

Bo must’ve sensed the seriousness of the call, because he let out a sharp bark. Alex looked at him in the rearview mirror, the loyal eyes, the sense of high alert in the way he held himself. However lonely and driven Alex had become, at least he had Bo. The dog was his most loyal friend. He eased the Dodge onto the exit. Whatever happened tonight, Bo would be part of the solution. The way he always was.

T
WENTY
-F
IVE

C
lay reached the steep dirt road leading up to Oak Canyon Estates just as the first glow of orange appeared from the top of the hill. Firefighters were on the way, but the role of the SWAT team was to check on reports of gunfire and catch whoever set the fires. He and a dozen other officers had been instructed to meet at the entrance to the estates and set up a roadblock. That way, if the arsonists hadn’t made their way down the drive, they’d be caught for sure. Clay and Joe could make decisions from there.

Clay was first at the scene and needed to check out the guard station, then establish a roadblock. Why hadn’t the person manning the guard booth stopped the car, and what about the possible gunshots the caller had heard? Clay sped the fifty yards up the hill to the small station. As he came closer, his heartbeat quickened. His headlights illuminated a figure lying on the ground, and the gate arm that should’ve been down was shattered in pieces.

As he pulled up, he saw that the prone figure was in uniform — the security guard. Clay slammed his car to a stop, drew his gun, and climbed out. There was no way of telling how dangerous the situation was, so he stayed low behind his car door. He heard the sound of sirens and the squeal of tires back at the bottom of the road.

The car coming up next was Joe’s. He pulled up behind Clay’s car and hurried out the same way — gun drawn, low to the ground. “That a body?” he barked.

“Yes. Cover me.” With Joe at his back, Clay rushed to the guard’s side. He was bleeding from his arm and his side, and Clay felt for a pulse. It was there — faint and fast, same as his breathing. “He’s alive,” Clay shouted over his shoulder. “Call for an ambulance.” He turned back to the guy. “Help’s on the way. Don’t give up on me now. Come on.”

Joe made the call immediately. Wind whipped down the canyon and made it hard for Clay to keep his balance as he hovered over the man. He wanted to get up the hill and check it out, see if the arsonists were still there or if they’d already gone. And there was the woman — was she still trapped up in her office, too afraid to leave? The sirens grew louder still, and a series of squad cars sped onto the gravel road and up to the spot near the booth. As the others climbed out, Joe took charge so Clay could stay with the victim.

“Set up a partial roadblock. The suspects could be coming down any time.” Joe had grabbed his bullhorn. “But leave room for the fire trucks …”

The first fire trucks appeared and roared up the hill. They stopped just long enough for a couple of paramedics to jump off the rigs and hurry over to Clay. “We’ve got it. The ambulance will be here in a few minutes.”

Clay took a last look at the man. There was a circle of red oozing from beneath his shoulder, so he uttered a silent prayer for the guard, for his family.
Let him live, God … don’t let him die here on the roadway. Please, God …
By now it seemed clear there were no suspects hiding around the booth, looking to ambush them. He ran back to his car and motioned to Joe. “I’m going up.”

“Not by yourself.” They had to yell to be heard above the sound of sirens and vehicles and gusting wind.

“It’ll be fine.” At SWAT scenes protocol was to stay in pairs, but this was different. “We don’t know if anyone’s even up there. But I want it clear before they start on the fire.”

Joe hesitated, then nodded. “Hurry back.”

“You got it.” Clay grabbed his radio and asked that firefighters wait halfway up the road so SWAT could clear the scene of any suspect danger. He was in his car and speeding up the gravel drive even while he was making the order. Word came back from the fire captain that they’d stay a hundred yards shy of the top of the hill until they received word. If the fire moved down into the canyon, they’d fight it from where they were situated.

Clay sped up the hill to the top where the drive intersected the single paved road, then stopped and studied the scene. Three separate houses were fully involved. The lights were off at the model, but the woman who called could still be in there. Another problem became immediately evident. The house at the corner on the right was one of the structures on fire, and already the flames were dancing across the backyard toward a section of the hilly road that Clay had just driven past.

Suddenly, the wind gusted hard, and Clay looked over his shoulder, horrified. In as much time as it took him to breathe, the fire jumped the narrow roadway and lit the brush on the other side, completely blocking the road. There was no way down now, not until the firefighters knocked out the blaze behind him. Clay swallowed hard.
God, this is bad … I need You. Please, God … show me what to do.

He took hold of the radio again and reported what he’d seen. “I need a couple fire units on this thing right away. Clear the road and keep it open. The fire’s moving down and to the east, toward the guard booth. We’ve got three homes on fire, and hillsides catching in each area.” His pounding heart pushed him into crisis mode — the place where he could act and react best. He kept his voice clear and calm. “We’re gonna need a helicopter drop as fast as possible.”

Once more he watched the flames behind him, and a realization hit him hard. The situation had become desperate, the blaze already a monster, pushing up toward the sky, roiling and billowing with the wind, consuming everything in its path.
God, get me out of this, please … Jamie couldn’t stand it if …

Clay considered the woman in the model home. For now the fires weren’t too close to the place where she must work. Clay was driving toward the model home when something caught his eye off to the left. He turned off his lights and turned slowly in that direction. Down a ways, between two homes, a car sat in the street. Near it, at least two people darted between the buildings. With the sound of the wind, they clearly didn’t hear him.

His heart pounded, and he felt the danger rise around him. This was where he should’ve called for backup, but now that was impossible. The road up to the development was blocked by a wall of flames, so where did that leave him? He radioed to Joe and explained the situation. “There’s gotta be another way out, right?”

“I’m on it. What about the woman?”

“Still need to check on her, but she’s away from the fires for now. I might have the suspects in sight. I need to deal with them first.”

Silence shouted across the other end of the radio lines, and Clay understood. With no real warning, Clay had gotten into a situation that no officer wanted to be in. “Michaels … watch yourself. We’re gonna get you out of there. Don’t be a hero.”

“I won’t.” Again he thought about Jamie. “Radio the fire captain. Let me know about an alternate exit out of this place.”

The roar of the fire was building around him. With every gust of wind, the burning homes sent a cascading wall of flames into the dry brush surrounding the development. Sprinklers had been activated, but they appeared to have no impact on the fire. The speed of the flames was horrifying, beyond anything Clay had seen before. But he could do nothing about the situation now, so he drove slowly down the road, past a burning house on the right, closer, closer, until he could see one of the men pouring something on a pile of towels near the base of another house.

The arsonists weren’t finished yet; they were still setting fires. Didn’t they know the road was already blocked by flames? They were so zealous in their quest to destroy that they were putting their own lives in jeopardy, and they seemed oblivious to the fact.

Clay radioed again, his mind long since made up. “I’ve got the suspects in sight. I’m moving in.” As he finished his sentence, there was an explosion from the other end of the street. Another house went up, and he saw a third figure dart across the road. This was it. If he didn’t take every move with the greatest care, he wouldn’t miss only his chance at the suspects.

He would miss his chance at getting out of here alive.

T
WENTY
-S
IX

A
lex had just reached the base of the main drive up to Oak Canyon Estates when he heard that Clay was trapped at the top with as many as three suspects. He pictured CJ and Sierra and Jamie waiting at home, and he clenched his jaw. Nothing was going to happen to Clay Michaels. Not tonight. Not if he could help it. Alex saw the roadblock leading up to the estates and made the decision quickly. He sped past the turnoff and drove another half-mile to an unmarked road so narrow it could’ve passed for a trail.

It was a fire road, one intended as alternate access to the hillsides in case firefighters needed another way up. For now, though, they would certainly be fighting the fire up along the main drive, which meant Alex could get his truck up the hill much faster this way. He would radio his whereabouts later.

He reached the top in time to see four houses fully engulfed in fire. But there was something else. At the far end of the road, there was some kind of activity. One car, or maybe two. It was hard to tell in the wind and smoke that swirled across the paved road ahead. Alex flipped off his lights, slammed his truck into a lower gear, and four-wheeled from the fire road through some brush and between two unfinished houses. Once he touched asphalt, he raced down the street past the burning homes. He saw what he already knew — that the main road was on fire, cut off from emergency vehicles.

Bo released a series of barks as he took in the scene, the flames and wind, the speed of Alex’s truck. “It’s okay, Bo … we’re almost there.”

Ahead Alex saw what looked like Clay’s car, and beyond that another vehicle. Alex drew closer, and shock slammed into him when he saw what was unfolding up ahead. One of the suspects was holding Clay facedown against the hood of his car at what looked like gunpoint.

Alex felt rage building, consuming him. This was the REA, setting fires and now threatening to take the life of his friend. He pulled off the road again and hid himself between two houses that weren’t burning. They hadn’t seen him; he was sure of it. The guy with the gun hadn’t looked up or signaled to anyone. With the wind and fire and sirens, the noise of his truck hadn’t been loud enough to catch their attention.

When he was far enough between the two houses that he was sure they couldn’t see his truck, Alex slammed the gear into park, opened the back door for Bo, and told the dog to heel. Bo lifted his eyes to him, and his look seemed to say he wasn’t afraid. He would stay by Alex’s side whatever the call, whatever the danger. Alex patted Bo’s head. “Good boy, Bo … let’s get ‘em.”

With his gun drawn, he slipped around the back of the house and made his way through the rear yards until he could slide around the corner of one of the houses and get a clear view. A second armed man ran up to the first. In the glow of streetlights, Alex recognized him. It was the bald guy — one of the two REA men with Owl that day at the park.

Alex’s desperation grew, and he and Bo moved through the shadows toward Clay. He needed to catch them unaware, order them to freeze at the same time. That way he’d have the advantage and could take both guys out if he needed to before they could fire a shot at Clay.

He flashed Bo an open hand with just his index finger pointing straight out. The sign for Bo to keep quiet, not to bark — no matter what. Clay was in imminent danger, without any time to spare. They weren’t going to kill him; Alex wouldn’t let it happen. He stayed low and ran as fast as he could until he was a few feet from the suspects. They still had their backs to him, their focus entirely on Clay.

“Police!” he shouted loud enough to be heard above the sound of the wind and fire around them.

For a few seconds, the two men froze. Now that Alex was closer he could see that one of the guys with Clay was Owl, and that he didn’t appear to be armed. It was the taller man who had the gun pressed to Clay’s back. Alex raised his voice again. “Get your hands up now, or I’ll release my dog.” He gave Bo a different signal, and the dog let out a series of barks and loud growling sounds.

Owl’s hands came up, just as he turned and looked into Alex’s eyes. Clearly Owl recognized him, and he shouted at the bald guy, “He’s got a gun and a dog. Do what he says!”

Instead, Owl’s accomplice fired wildly at Clay and, in the same motion, spun around and aimed his gun at Alex. It took just one bullet from Alex’s gun to level the suspect, knocking him to the ground, motionless. Clay was writhing against the car, holding his shoulder. “I’m okay … it’s just my arm,” he shouted. Alex was about to signal Bo to watch Owl and the man on the ground so he could go to his friend, when there was a blur of movement behind him.

Before he could cock his gun, Bo barked once and leaped back into the shadows at a man Alex hadn’t even seen, a man who had come up behind them unnoticed and now was just a few feet away. With a ferocious second bark, Bo knocked the third man to the grass, but as he did, the man fired once at Bo’s chest.

“No!” Alex held up his gun, his knees weak. “No … Bo, come here!”

Bo let out a sound Alex had never heard from his dog. The man’s gun flew from his hand as he and Bo fell to the ground. Alex was breathing hard, gasping. “Bo, come here, boy!”

“He’s shot.” Clay’s voice rose above the noise. “Get the suspect’s gun.”

Alex saw the weapon a few feet from him. He grabbed it and shoved it in his back pocket, his eyes never leaving those of his dog. Bo was lying limp across the suspect’s chest, his regal head looking back for Alex. In that split second, Alex saw in Bo’s eyes something he’d never seen before, something that told him the situation was terribly serious.

Bo’s eyes were glazed with fear.

“Hold on, Bo!”

The suspect’s glasses were on the ground and he groped about, pushing Bo off him. Alex wanted to scream at him, ask him why he would set fire to houses and shoot at deputies under the guise of environmentalism. He aimed his gun at the man, but the suspect was no longer armed.

“Freeze!” Alex was shaking, desperate to help Bo. It took every bit of restraint to keep from pulling the trigger, but the suspect did as he asked. He stopped and raised his hands slowly into the air.

Alex gave a quick glance over his shoulder and saw Clay reach into the car and pull out a T-shirt from his passenger seat. “Help me with this.” He waved it in Alex’s direction. Owl still stood nearby, his face frozen in shock.

Bo was whimpering now, a sick, slow sort of whine. All around them the wind and fire raged, and Alex noticed two more houses now covered in flames that had spread from the other burning structures. “Hold on, boy.” He yelled the words at his dog and raced over to his friend, his gun still aimed straight at the third suspect.

He turned just long enough to take the T-shirt from Clay and tie it above the gunshot wound on his upper arm. The wound was bleeding, but not badly enough to be life-threatening. Not yet, anyway, and the tourniquet would help. “You okay?” Alex was breathing hard. He pulled tight on the T-shirt ends and made sure the pressure was in the right place.

“I’m fine.” Clay was in pain, but he was handling it. He looked down the street and shook his head. “We’re in trouble, buddy. We gotta get out of here.”

A quick look at the suspect on the ground told Alex what he suspected from the beginning. The guy was dead.

“What … what about the fire?” Owl shouted from where he stood, motionless, petrified.

“Don’t move,” Alex barked at him. But before he could leave Clay and turn the gun back at the third suspect, the guy took off, running down the street toward the model home.

“Let him go.” Clay winced, holding his arm against his waist. “Bo needs you.”

Alex felt sick as he turned his attention to Bo. The dog wasn’t moving, but he still had his head a few inches off the ground, his eyes on Alex, where they had no doubt been since the gun had gone off nearly two minutes ago. Alex slipped his gun back into the holster and fell to his knees at his dog’s side. “Bo … hold on, buddy. It’s okay.” In the light of the street lamp he could see the dark, wet circle spreading out from Bo’s furry chest.

There was no telling where the bullet was, whether it had cleared the dog and maybe only left a wound that could be treated, or whether his injury was much worse. Alex wouldn’t let himself think about it. He lowered his face to Bo’s and talked calmly against the dog’s ear. “It’s okay, Bo … hold on, boy. It’s okay.” As Alex straightened again, Bo twisted his head back and licked Alex’s hand. Like before, his eyes never left Alex’s.

Always, Alex had been able to guess what his dog was thinking, and this moment was no exception. Bo’s eyes told him of a love and loyalty that couldn’t be measured, a care and concern that went beyond his desire to look after himself. In his eyes Alex could see that whatever the outcome, Bo would’ve done the same thing again. He had taken a bullet intended for Alex, and that was something Bo had been willing to do from the moment the two paired up.

Alex hadn’t really cried since right after his dad was killed. The guy he’d been before the terrorist attacks grieved his father long into the night that awful Tuesday, but afterwards buried his pain deep and allowed his determination to drive him. He’d struggled a few times, sure — like when he said his last good-bye to Holly. But he hadn’t cried once.

Until now.

With tears hot against his cheeks, he swept his dog into his arms, stood up, and ran him back to his truck. He looked at Clay, and his sick feeling doubled. His friend didn’t look good. “Stay here. I’ll be right back,” he yelled.

“What about me?” It was Owl, his frightened shriek rising above the sound of the fire and wind.

Alex stopped for half a second and stared at the guy through the smoke and blowing embers. “Don’t move.”

Clay was pale and his skin looked clammy. He leaned against his car and closed his eyes. The sound of a helicopter rose above the sound of the roaring fire, and Alex realized what was happening. Air drops on the fire. That would help, but already the development was an inferno.

Running as fast as he could, Alex carried Bo to the truck and set him carefully across the backseat. “Come on, Bo … you can do this.” He spoke the words as calmly as he could, because Bo could sense trouble in his voice. The dog had always been perceptive, and right now he needed to believe that Alex thought he had a chance. And Alex did think so. He refused to think otherwise. Of course, Bo had a chance. He wasn’t going to die. He’d survived these last few minutes, so now they only had to get him to a vet hospital.

Alex pulled his truck out of its hiding place and screeched up to the spot where Clay was still leaning against his car. Moving as fast as he could, Alex ran from his truck, grabbed Clay, and walked him to the front passenger seat, helping him inside.

“You!” he barked at Owl. “Get in the back.”

Owl didn’t need to be told twice. He lurched forward and vaulted himself into the truck bed.

Alex jumped back in behind the wheel and glanced at Clay. “Hang in there.”

“How … how are we … getting through the fire?” Clay slumped against the back of his seat, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Everything’s burning.”

“I know another way.” Alex peered down the street. Clay was right. The fire was burning across the main street of the development now, moving closer to the model home. But it didn’t matter. They’d have to get through it somehow, because on the other side of the flames, the fire road would still be a safe way down the mountain.

Alex took off and radioed a quick update — one suspect dead, one in custody, one at large. “I’ve got two victims — Michaels and my dog.” He explained that he was heading down the fire road half a mile west of the Oak Canyon turn off. His words were sharp and fast. “I’ll need a couple of ambulances.”

“Ten-four. Stop at the model home. The woman who made the call is still there. She was trapped by the fire, same as Sergeant Michaels.”

Alex looked at Clay and then over his shoulder at Bo. Every minute counted at this point — for both of them. But if a woman was trapped in the model home, he’d have to get her. He was sizing up the extent of the fire ahead of him when he spotted a car parked outside the model, a car he’d missed the first time he’d passed by. It must’ve belonged to the woman.

Alex dragged his fist over his eyes. No more tears. He couldn’t break down now, not when he had so much to do. Again he looked back at Bo, and even now his dog was watching him, looking almost apologetic, like he still wanted to help but his body would no longer let him. Alex shifted his attention to his friend. “You with me, Michaels?”

“I’m here.” Clay sounded sleepy, dizzy. He was still losing blood, and he needed to get to a hospital. But Alex had to get the woman first. “I’ve gotta check the model house. Dispatch says the woman who called in is still in there.”

“Check it.” Clay lifted his good hand, his voice a little stronger than before. “I’ll be fine.”

Alex drove up nearly to the front door of the model, jumped out, and raised his gun. He couldn’t be too safe. The other suspect had run in this direction, and there was no telling if he’d gotten hold of another gun. Already once today he’d forgotten the possibility of additional suspects. He hurried to the front of the house and tried the handle, but it was locked. He pounded the butt of his gun against the door. “Police … anyone here?” By now he expected that somehow she’d escaped, run down the street toward the fire road, knowing that her car wouldn’t have made it. Certainly, the developer would’ve told his employees about the alternate way out.