See Tom Run (11 page)

Tom could see two pairs of feet from his vantage
point under the table. Where was the third set? he wondered. Please
don’t tell me that one of these cutthroats is still outside in the
lobby! If that were the case, he didn’t have an ice cube’s chance
in Hades of—

A shot suddenly fired out. It sounded like a cannon
going off.

“Frick an a, Tommy! You’d best be giving yourself up
this very moment or you are going to regret it! I’m going to make
it a point to yank off each and every one of these bloody
tablecloths until I find you. Then, I shall proceed to make you a
very, very sorry bloke!”

There was a short pause.

“Okay, mates, let’s do it!” Chappy cried, followed by
cheers and the shuffling of feet.

Mates, he had said, as in
plural!

Tom peeled his eyes to locate all three pairs of
feet. A second later, he saw the third set walk directly past him
toward the far side of the room. He held his breath and paused a
moment, then quietly backed his way out from under the table.

After he had cleared the tablecloth and found himself
out in the open, Tom glanced around and saw Chappy working the
tables toward the far end, Bummer to his left and Hoops immediately
behind him. All three were yanking the tablecloths off the tables
with a flourish, like aspiring magicians. Miraculously, none of
them had yet spotted him nor were any of them facing his way at
that particular moment.

Tom hunched forward as far as he could and hurried
toward the doors on his knees.

“I’m gonna get you, Tom-Boy!” he heard Hoops cry from
behind. With his heart in his throat, Tom stood up and ran toward
the doors as quickly as his legs would carry him. He reached the
entrance, shoved one of the doors open with his shoulder, slipped
through and turned his back against the doors. He heard Hoops
holler “he’s escaped!” as he fumbled anxiously with the dead bolt,
trying desperately to slide it home. Finally, he heard a metallic
clack as he managed to lock the door.

One to go—

He fumbled with the other bolt as he heard the boys
running toward the entrance. He was able to slide the bolt home an
instant before he felt the weight of the door smash against his
back.

“Open this door, motherfucker!” Chappy snarled from
the other side. A shot rang out and Tom saw the hole where the slug
had torn through about an inch from the handle.

Tom sidestepped the doors and ran across the lobby
toward the Park Avenue entrance, spotted a ring of keys lying on a
table between a Heinekin and a plate of French fries, managed to
snatch them up just as he heard two more shots ring out.

They were going to shoot their way through that door
any second—

He needed to make a quick decision: either bolt out
onto the street and run as far away from these crazy shits as
earthly possible or stay in the hotel and likely become a piece of
dead meat. The decision was a no-brainer. Erin was somewhere in
here and he had to find her.

He wondered if the elevators were working. Then he
recalled Chappy’s words: “practically everything in this place is
fully functional.” He could only hope that included the
elevators.

Tom sprinted across the lobby to the bank of
elevators, pressed the “up” button with his elbow and held his
breath. The door slid open with a quiet whoosh.

Awesome! he thought.

He hopped in, pushed the button for the fifteenth
floor for no particular reason except that it seemed far away from
where he stood now, located the ‘close door’ button and pressed it
repeatedly. He heard another gunshot come from the lobby and the
muffled sound of running madmen through the door as it closed.

Tom nervously watched the floor indicator panel as
the car ascended. The elevator slowed down and stopped at the
fifteenth floor, the doors slid open and he bolted out into total
darkness.

Perhaps not such a good choice, he thought to
himself. Were the lights off on all of the upper floors or had he
just happened to choose the only one that was?

No time to ponder—he caught the door before it closed
and re-entered the elevator.

The odds of the power being on were probably greater
near the lobby, he theorized. Although he didn’t really want to go
back toward the pursuing posse, he knew he was going to have to
chance it. Besides, he wasn’t even sure if these bad boys were
still in the hotel at the moment. They may have thought he fled
outside instead—in fact, that was most likely the case. After all,
they didn’t know that he knew Kyle and Erin—so there was no reason
for him to stay in the hotel as far as they were concerned. They
would assume that he had fled the same way he had come in: via Park
Avenue.

Of course! he thought. Right now was his best shot at
finding Erin while they were out looking for his ass.

He pressed the button for the fifth floor. He would
try it and then work his way down. Erin would most likely be on one
of the lower floors.

The doors closed and the elevator plummeted at a
fairly good clip. When it reached the fifth floor, Tom crossed his
fingers as the door opened.

The floor was lit up like a Christmas tree!

He stepped out and looked in either direction, noting
that the floor consisted of numbered guest rooms as far as he could
see. He went to the nearest room and turned the knob. Locked. He
glanced at the ring of keys in his hand, wondering if there was a
master key to the rooms or a key to the handcuffs.

He stepped over to one of the chairs sitting near the
elevator, turned around and dropped the keys onto it. He searched
for a small key that might be the one for the cuffs. Most of the
dozen or so keys were of average size and appeared to be door keys.
There was also a GM car key—perhaps the one for the hearse.

Tom spotted a tiny brass key that looked like it
could be the one he sought. Excitedly, he picked up the key ring,
went over to a mirror and began the arduous task of trying to slip
the key into the tiny hole of the cuff. Sweating profusely, he
eventually managed to get the key into the hole and nearly snapped
his wrist fumbling around trying to get the key to rotate inside
the hole. Five minutes later, he heard a crisp click as the manacle
sprang away from his left wrist, freeing his hand.

A victorious smile came to Tom’s face as he brought
his hands around and unlocked the other cuff.

He’d done it, by god!

Tom picked up the keys, chose one randomly and tried
it in one of the guest room doors. The key went in but wouldn’t
turn. What he needed to do now was find the room holding Erin
captive and worry about the keys later.

The problem was that she could be anywhere in this
huge hotel and there was really no way to know where to start. He
would just have to give it his best shot and pray for a miracle
before Chappy and his entourage returned to the Waldorf.

He quickly worked his way down the corridor, knocking
on each door and listening for a sound. Then he advanced to the
adjacent hallway and repeated the process until he’d covered nearly
the entire fifth floor. When he suddenly heard a sound coming from
the direction of the elevators, he froze where he stood and then
quietly backtracked toward the direction of the sound. He arrived
at the end of the hallway and cautiously peeked around the
corner.

At first, he didn’t see anything. Then suddenly, he
saw the door to the stairway open and someone stepped out into the
hallway.

It was Bummer!

Tom thought Bummer had spotted him so he ran down the
corridor, thankful that it was carpeted. He could only pray that
Bummer wasn’t headed toward him because if that were the case, he
was a goner. The corridor dead-ended and he would have no time to
get inside any of the rooms.

He heard Bummer running down the hall toward him and
started looking around for a possible escape route. There was
nothing. Bummer would be rounding the corner any second.

Tom tried the handle of the nearest guest room door
and couldn’t believe it—the door was unlocked! Quickly, he opened
it, ran inside and closed the door behind him. He slid the deadbolt
as quietly as he could, praying that Bummer wouldn’t hear—

“Room service,” he heard just outside the door.

Bummer had found him.

Tom glanced around the room then heard a huge crash
at the door. He turned around and saw the sharp edge of an ax
sticking out where it had sliced through the door.

Feeling like he was in a scene
from
The Shining
,
Tom watched in horror as the ax blade withdraw then sliced into the
door again about a half-inch to the right of the first hole. He ran
over to the bed, grabbed a lamp and stood off to the side. It was
at that moment that he spotted another door in the room with a
deadbolt on it.

A door that led to the adjoining room!

Tom ran over to the door, slid open the dead bolt and
tried the doorknob. It turned. He opened the door, ran into the
adjoining room and locked the door behind him. He was safe for the
moment.

But how long would it take for Bummer to break into
the other room then proceed to this room?

He needed to get away quickly or he would be a dead
man.

Tom heard the ax continuously crashing into the wood
as he stepped over to the room entrance. Quietly, with his heart
beating hard in his chest, he cracked the door an inch and looked
out into the corridor. Fortunately, the door swung in the direction
that allowed him to see Bummer next door hacking the hell out of
the door with his ax. Unfortunately, there would be nothing
standing between him and Bummer once he ran out into the hall.

So he would have to wait until Bummer axed his way
through the door then take off like a bat out of hell.

“You just wait till I get in there, asshole!” Bummer
grunted, short of breath from his labors. “I’m gonna make you look
like a pile of raw ground beef!”

Tom watched as Bummer swung his ax one more time then
poked his hand through the gaping hole in the door. He heard the
deadbolt slide and watched as Bummer swung open the door. The
moment he went inside, Tom bolted out of the room.

“Gotcha!” Tom heard the stocky slob shout the moment
he hit the hallway. He sped after Tom and was directly behind him
in an instant. Tom suddenly turned around and saw Bummer holding
the ax high over his head, poised to strike.

That’s when Tom swung the lamp as hard as he could
into Bummer’s fat face.

The boy was so shocked that he dropped the ax and
simply stood there dumbfounded for a second, a look of hideous
stupidity on his face. Tom swung again, this time landing the brass
base of the lamp squarely into Bummer’s jaw.

Blood literally squirted out as Bummer howled like an
animal. Tom hesitated a moment, then gathered up all his strength
and let him have it one more time, this time from overhead into his
huge hairless skull.

Bummer slumped and fell like a limp dishcloth onto
the floor, out like a light.

Or dead as a doornail—Tom wasn’t really sure.

He dropped the lamp and sprinted down the hall toward
the elevator, wondering if any of the other boys were in the hotel.
Just in case, he opted for the same stairway Bummer had taken
instead of risking the elevator.

Tom made his way quietly down the stairs to the
fourth floor, listening carefully for any sounds. All he could hear
was his own footsteps echoing off the walls.

He went through the stairway door. He saw more guest
rooms in either direction. He started down the hallway and resumed
methodically knocking softly on each door. About halfway down the
corridor, he thought he heard a sound come from inside one of the
rooms. He knocked again. This time he was sure he heard a sound—a
sort of weak, muffled whimper.

He turned the doorknob, which was locked.

“Erin, is that you?” he whispered through the
door.

Nothing.

“Erin, it’s me—Tom. Can you hear me?”

He heard more muffled sounds, more staccato than
before.

It had to be her.

“I’m gonna get you out of there, Erin. I just need to
find a way inside. Hang in there!” he whispered excitedly.

Tom frantically pulled the key ring out of his back
pocket and tried each key, praying that one of them would unlock
the door. He was hoping that the keys were masters for each floor
of the hotel, or something like that.

The next to the last key turned smoothly in the
keyhole.

He unlocked the door and entered the room.

CHAPTER 11

The room was pitch dark. The muffled whimpers sounded
louder now and were coming from halfway across the room. Tom
fumbled around for a light switch along the wall, located it and
flipped it up. The room remained dark. Frustrated, he swung the
door open all the way to let more light in.

Once his eyes adjusted, he could make out two
queen-sized beds and what looked like a body lying on the furthest
one. He made his way across the room, went in between the two beds,
located the lamp on the nightstand, found a switch and clicked it
on.

There lying face down on the bed was Erin Myers, her
hands tied behind her back with thick rope. Her head was turned so
that she was facing him, her mouth bound by duct tape, her eyes
swollen red.

“Erin!” Tom cried.

He leaned down and removed the duct tape from her
mouth as delicately as he could.

“Jesus, am I ever glad to see you!” Erin cried when
the tape was off. “How did you ever find me here?”

“I was confronted by your captors at Macy’s. They
brought me here to join their little party but I haven’t been
feeling particularly welcome, to say the least. Here, let’s get you
onto your feet.”

Tom rolled Erin onto her side and pulled her over
toward the edge of the bed. The moment she was on her feet, he
encircled her thin waist and hugged her tightly. Tears of relief
and joy came to his eyes as he embraced the girl.