Thank you so much Jenjoremy for giving your time and skills to this chapter and me. I really appreciate it. Thank you also Gredelina1 for helping me with the concept and listening when it was done. Thank you all for reading xxx
My days are all confused. I woke up thinking it was Wednesday (one of my favorite days of the week) and I was excited to update. It was awesome for a few minutes until I realized it's only Tuesday and not update day. I realized that it's completely my choice though. I can't control the days of the week but I can control update days. I left you with a cliffhanger last time, I like to update, and I want to. They all seem like good enough reasons to put out the update a day early. Enjoy x
Chapter Thirty-Six
There was silence for a moment and then James groaned. Sam sat up quickly and said, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," James said weakly, straightening up.
Sam looked through the broken windshield for a place to hide. There was a hotel a couple buildings away and there was a man in the doorway, staring at them.
"Are you going to be able to walk?" Sam asked.
"Yeah. I'm not hurt."
"Okay. On the count of three, I want you to get out of the car and run toward that hotel. I'm going to be right behind you. Ready?"
"Yeah."
Sam leaned between the seats and grabbed his two bags from the back footwell where they'd landed in the crash. He reached for the door handle and opened it. "One… Two… Three!" He threw open his door and almost fell out. James was on his feet and, at Sam's command, he began to run at the hotel. The man in the doorway seemed too stunned to react, but when James reached him, he started to close the door. Sam got his foot in the way to block it straight away and then he shouldered it open, sending the man sprawling back.
"You need to leave!" the man said. "Get out!"
"No can do," Sam said. "We're checking in."
"I'm closed. Everyone is gone."
"You kicked people out?" Sam asked scathingly.
"They ran when it started," he said. "You need to run, too."
Sam ignored him, turning his attention to James. He looked scared but Sam could see no sign of blood. "Are you hurt at all?" he asked. "Don't lie to me. This is important."
"My ribs ache," James said. "But that's all. I'm really okay, Sam. I'm sorry for–"
"Later," Sam said curtly. They could deal with apologies and explanations later. He turned his attention back to the hotelier. "You, we need a room. Somewhere on the ground floor. Whatever's nearest to the fire escape."
"You can't stay here. I'm closed."
Sam stepped closer to him. "We're staying here until this is over. You can work with me and get paid, or you can fight me and get nothing."
The man threw up his hands. "Room twenty-two."
"Thank you," Sam said, pulling out his wallet. He took three bills out and handed them to the man. "This should cover it."
The man snatched the money and went behind the desk to fetch them a key. He handed it to Sam and then hesitated before asking. "Do you think they'll come for my hotel?"
"I don't know," Sam said honestly. "If I were you, I'd find a place to hide. That's what we're going to do."
He nodded. "This hotel was my father's. If they destroy it, he'll never forgive me."
"What's your name?" Sam asked.
"Anton."
"Well, Anton, I'm Sam and this is James. You have probably saved our lives letting us in. I think your father will be proud of that more than he'd be angry about a hotel."
Anton shook his head. "I don't think so."
"Then it doesn't matter what he thinks," Sam said. "You're a hero, and I have a feeling that's just the start of your story."
Anton didn't look comforted. He seemed scared still. So did James. It was as if all the fire of before had left him, and now he was just a kid again. Sam needed to get him somewhere he would feel safer.
"Which way to our room?" Sam asked.
Anton pointed at a door to the right and Sam gripped his bags and led James by the arm towards it. James' muscles were bunched and hard.
They walked along the hall to their room and Sam unlocked the door. He gestured James in ahead of him and shut the door behind them. There were two beds and James staggered over to one and sat down. Sam set his bags on the second bed and pulled his case out of the larger of the two.
"What's that?" James asked.
Sam unlocked the box with the combination and flipped open the lid, revealing his Taurus 9mm, "It's protection."
James looked startled. He already knew Sam had a gun, so Sam guessed it was the reminder of what was happening to them that had made him react.
"You need to call your mom," Sam said.
"What do I say?"
"Tell her whatever you feel you need to, but make sure she knows we're safe now."
James nodded. "Okay." He sounded very young again and made no move toward the phone.
Sam picked up the card beside the phone that told them how to make an external call and dialed nine before Missouri's number. When it rang, he handed it to James and tried to give him privacy by occupying himself loading his gun. He still heard James' voice though as he said, "Mom, it's me… Yeah. I'm okay. We're somewhere safe now." He listened for a moment and then said, "I know. I'm really sorry…"
The only way Sam was able to persuade James to go to bed that night and try to get some rest was by promising he would, too. They each lay in silence for a while before Sam heard James' breaths fall into soft sighs of sleep. Sam crept out of bed and walked to the window. He pulled open the curtain and looked at the street outside. The darkness was broken by the streetlights, and he could see people moving around outside. Some were in rowdy groups, making their way along the street with the looted goods in carts and in their arms. Others were more occupied with rioting, and they were armed.
Sam hated what he was seeing. People were completely without order, just doing and taking what they liked. The worst part was he knew it wasn't nearly over. There were four days of riots before the police and military took back the city and the death count would be high before the end.
He wished there was something he could do, but he couldn't think of anything. One man alone couldn't bring order, no matter what invincibility tricks Michael had done to him. Even if he was able to try, it wouldn't work. The city raged for days and that was fact; it was one of the things he couldn't change, no matter how much he wanted to. All he could do was take care of James and make sure he made it out safely. For now, that meant keeping him inside. The fact they had been attacked already on the road made him see they couldn't steal a car to escape. They had to sit it out here. Still, it burned Sam. He was a hunter, he saved lives, and lives were going to be lost out there and he couldn't stop it.
He looked across the room at James where he slept with just a tuft of hair above the bedclothes. What did he feel about what had happened? Sam understood his need to be at that courthouse in a way, the need to fight back against something, because he had felt that same kind of fury in his life. Though he wasn't fighting the injustice that had dogged James' life—his was about Lilith and what she had taken from him—it had ended worse than James' presence here had. They had each made their mistakes.
He turned back to the window and looked out at the street. A woman was stumbling along in the middle of the road, and there was blood on her face and jacket.
Sam quickly crossed the room and eased open the door, careful not to wake James. He slipped out of the room and ran along the hall and through the door to the lobby. Anton was nowhere in sight. Sam unbolted the front door and rushed into the street. The woman had passed the hotel now, but when he called to her she turned back with a look of horror and began to run.
"Stop!" Sam called. "I'm not going to hurt you, I swear. I can help you."
She slowed, and Sam caught up to her and touched her arm gently. She flinched away, and Sam circled her until he was facing her. Her lips were pressed into a tremoring line and her eyes were glassy with tears.
"It's okay," Sam said gently. "I can help. My name is Sam."
"Chrissy," she said quietly.
"What happened to you, Chrissy?"
"They were breaking into the liquor store, and I was cut by the glass." She reached a hand to the bleeding cut on her cheek and Sam gently caught her wrist.
"Don't touch it unless you can't help it," he said. "Your hands are dirty. You need to keep the wound as clean as you can. Will you come with me? I can help you clean it up."
"Come with you where?" she asked.
Sam was pleased it wasn't an outright no. He pointed back at the hotel and said, "In there. My friend and I have taken a room. There's no one else there but us and the manager. You'll be safe."
"Okay," she said uncertainly. "I guess I don't have a choice."
"You do," Sam said. "You don't have to come anywhere with me if you don't want to. Are you close to home? Can I get you there instead?"
"I live in Highland Park. I came with my friends for the party."
Sam wanted to sigh, but he held it in. The fact she and others were obviously thinking of this as a party was a dangerous theme of the riots.
"I can't get you back there," Sam said. He pointed to his wrecked car. "That's my ride. It's not safe for us to try to steal something else either. Will you come with me?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess."
Sam starting walking back to the hotel and she fell into step at his side. When they were inside, he bolted the door closed behind him and then went behind the desk. He took the key for room twenty from the hook and then searched under the desk.
"What are you looking for?" she asked.
"This," Sam said triumphantly, pulling out a first aid box. "Come with me."
He led her through the door and towards the room beside his and James'. He didn't want James waking up to a stranger in the room, especially an injured one, and he thought Chrissy would do better with privacy, too. He unlocked the door and went in and flipped on the light. Like Sam and James' room, there were two beds, and Sam gestured her towards one. She sat down, seeming grateful for the rest.
Sam set the box down on the second bed and opened it. He hadn't been hopeful about its contents, but it was a comprehensive kit. There were butterfly bandages and a small bottle of hydrogen peroxide.
"This is good," he said, attempting to reassure Chrissy as he held up the hydrogen peroxide. "I can clean the wound, but it's going to sting. Can you handle that?"
She shook her head jerkily. "No! That stuff hurts. My mom used to use it when I skinned my knee. Please, don't do that."
"Okay," Sam said soothingly. "We don't have to. I'm going to need to clean around the wound, though so the bandages will stick. We can leave the disinfectant until we can get you to a hospital."
"Thanks," she said.
Sam opened a pack of gauze and drizzled it with sterile saline. "This might sting," he said. "Do you want to do it yourself?"
"You do it," she said. "I don't want to see it."
"Okay," Sam said. He dabbed at the drying blood on her cheek around the wound, and flinched with her as she hissed between her teeth. "Almost done. You're doing great."
When the area was clean and dried, he unpackaged the butterfly bandages. He apologized as she squeezed her eyes shut and then he pinched the edges of the wound together with one hand while he used the other to stick the bandages in place. He used three to be sure it would hold, and then patted her fisted hand.
"You can open your eyes now," he said. "It's done."
"How does it look?" she asked.
"It's not so bad now. It's mostly covered, and it wasn't that big to begin with. Those kinds of wounds always bleed a lot. Do you want some painkillers? There's some Tylenol in here."
"Yes, please."
Sam opened the bottle and shook two into her hand then he went to the bathroom to fill the toothbrush glass with water for her. She took it from him and swallowed the pills.
"Thanks."
"No problem," Sam said. "It's good to be able to help someone."
"I was so scared," she said. "We all saw it on the news and we thought it was finally time to take a stand. It wasn't what I expected when I got here though. People were just trashing the place."
"They are," Sam agreed.
"They're angry."
Sam nodded. "They have good reason to be."
Chrissy started to speak but she cut off abruptly as James' voice echoed along the hallway outside. "Sam! Sam!"
She froze, her eyes wide with fear.
"It's okay," Sam said. "It's my friend. I'll be right back."
He crossed the room in long strides and opened the door wide. "James, I'm here."
James spun around to face him and Sam saw he looked terrified. "Oh, thank god," he said. "I thought you were gone. What were you doing?"
Sam stepped back and gestured him in. James came into the room and stopped dead.
"Chrissy, this is James," he said. "Chrissy was hurt during the looting so I brought her back here to help her."
"You went out!" James' tone was accusing.
"Only out front," Sam said. "She needed help."
James looked annoyed for a moment and then he released his pent breath in a sigh and looked past Sam to Chrissy. "It's nice to meet you, Chrissy."
"You, too," she said quietly. "Your friend saved me."
"He does that," James said wryly, turning to Sam. "You won't go out again, will you?"
Sam winced. He couldn't make that promise. If he could help someone else, he would. There were other things they needed if they were going to be here until the riots were over. Like food. Sam needed to investigate the hotel to see if it had kitchens. If not he was going to need to get stuff in for them.
"Sam…" James said in a warning tone.
"We'll see," Sam said.
James shook his head. "You remember when Mom used to say that when I was a kid? She always meant I wasn't getting when I wanted then, too."
"You're not a kid anymore, James," Sam said. "You know what I'm saying." He softened his tone. "Go back to bed and get some more sleep. You, too, Chrissy. You'll be safe here."
Chrissy nodded and looking longingly at the bed.
"We're just next door," Sam said. "I'll leave the door open in case you need us."
"Thanks," she said.
Sam towed James out of Chrissy's room and back into their own. James looked annoyed still and, as Sam went to the window to check the street, he said, "I promised my Mom that I would take care of you. You're going to make it real hard, aren't you?"
"I'm going to do what I have to do," Sam said. "There are people out there in danger that we can help. You mom knows that, and she'd expect me to help them."
"She'd expect you to help yourself, too," James said.
"That's what I am doing," Sam said, turning back to the curtain.
Missouri would expect him to help people as she knew what he was trying to atone for.
In the morning, Sam went to Chrissy's room to check on her and then went in search of Anton to find out about food. He found a door marked private on the fifth floor and he knocked loudly. There was a pause and then the sound of many bolts disengaging. Anton was dressed in the clothes from the night before, and the haggard look on his face showed Sam that he'd had no more sleep than him. He didn't look pleased to see Sam. He scowled at him and kept the door half closed as a barrier between them.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"We need food," Sam said. "We can't go out to find food while the riots are happening. Do you have a kitchen here?"
"No, I do not," he said.
His reply was a little too quick and a little panicked for Sam to believe him. "Where is it?" Sam asked.
"I don't have a kitchen."
Sam crossed his arms over his chest. "I know you're lying, and I understand why. But I also know I have already given you enough money to cover food for us for a week at least, so I'm not going until you tell me where it is."
Anton sagged. "Downstairs. To the left of the office is the restaurant. There is a door through there that leads to the kitchen."
"Thank you," Sam said, "I appreciate your honesty. I've got some for you. There's another woman staying here now, too."
He looked aghast. "You are bringing in more!"
"She was bleeding on the street. I brought her in and helped her."
"You cannot do this. It is my business. My home. You can't just let people take it over."
Sam sighed. "I am bringing in anyone that needs it, but I will do you a deal. Whatever it costs you in food and rooms, I will pay for it. I might not look like it, but I have money. I will give you my credit card and you can charge what you like to it."
Sam had plenty of money to cover the bill, and the credit limit wasn't so high that he would be cheated of too much. If it kept himself, James, and Chrissy safe—and anyone that came after—it was worth it.
"I have no choice, do I?" he asked.
"No," Sam said. "You really don't. You can fight it, be a asshole, or you can help people and be proud of yourself."
Anton narrowed his eyes. "How do I know I can trust you?"
Sam pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed over his credit card. "There. Do what you like with that, but don't interfere with what we're doing. Understand?"
His fingers curled around the plastic card and a greedy look came into his eyes. Sam knew the argument was over. As long as the man could make money from them, he would be satisfied.
Sam left him standing in his doorway and walked back to the stairs. He went to the ground floor and through to the restaurant. The tables were polished wood with place settings already laid and small vases in the center of the tables. Sam passed through them into the kitchen and smiled to himself. It was a large industrial looking space. Sam went straight to the huge fridge and opened it to find neatly boxed and labeled foods. At the bottom of the fridge were large bottles of juice. Sam picked up one of orange juice and closed the door. He would get some sugar in them all and then they could come back to make real food. He had something else he wanted to do, too.
He went back to the bedroom, pausing outside Chrissy's to see if she was awake. The door was closed, and he could hear no movement within. He thought he would take care of James first and then see how she was doing. When he opened the door to his own room, though, he saw Chrissy was in there already. She and James were sitting opposite each other of the edges of the beds. Both looked up as he entered, and Sam thought James looked relieved.
"I found the kitchen," he said. "And Anton has been taken care of."
"What did you do to him?" James asked.
"I paid him," Sam said. "He shouldn't give us any more trouble." He went into the bathroom and brought out the two toothbrush glasses then he took a mug from beside the coffee maker and poured them each a juice. "Here. Get some sugar in you and then we'll sort out some real food." He grinned at Chrissy. "If we ask him nicely, James might make some of his scrambled eggs for us. They're pretty good."
"Eggs in a riot," Chrissy said. "It seems crazy that this is actually happening."
"It does, but it is," Sam said. "All you can do is take care of yourself right now. Is there anyone back home you can call to let them know you're okay?"
"My mom," she said.
"Maybe do that," Sam said. "And you should call home, too, James. Let your mom know you're still here and okay."
James nodded vaguely. "Yeah. I will. What about you though?"
Sam frowned. "Your mom will let George know what's happening. He's the only other person to think about."
"That's not what I meant. You said all me and Chrissy can do is take care of ourselves. What are you planning?"
Sam should have expected him to pick up on it. James was smart. The truth was that he had a plan for himself. Chrissy had made him see that there were people out there that weren't just here for the chaos. They had come expecting something else, and they had been caught up in the riots. He had this huge hotel that he could use to protect people. The ones that didn't want to be a part of what was happening out there anymore, the ones that were hurt, could be brought in and kept safe. He couldn't stop the riots. He couldn't save lives in the usual way, but he could still help.
"I'm going out again," he said.
Chrissy's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open, but James looked like something had been confirmed to him.
"I figured," he said. "You want to bring more people in, don't you?"
"I do," Sam said. "There are more people out there like us that stumbled across this thing and are trapped now. If I can find them, I can help. People could be hurt."
"Mom said you'd be a superhero," James said with a wry smile. "Seemed like she knew more than me since I've never seen you do anything heroic before, unless you count giving men time off work for their kids' recitals."
Sam laughed. "Yeah. I'm a regular Superman. But I need to do this. If you're uncomfortable with it, we can keep you safe in here and I'll spread everyone else out on the other floors, but people do need help."
"I think we should do it," James said. "It's my fault you've been dragged into this, so if this what you need, I'm down."
"I'll help," Chrissy said, though she sounded nervous.
"Only do what you can," Sam said, wanting to give her an out. "You've been hurt already. You might be better off staying in here and resting."
She looked relieved for a moment and then a shadow crossed her face. "No. I'm helping. If you hadn't come out and got me, I don't know what would have happened. I owe you."
"Okay," Sam said. "I am going to get some supplies and see who I see out there. You two get yourselves some food—make some for me for when I get back—and start unlocking the rooms."
"I could come with you," James offered.
The idea almost made Sam shudder. He couldn't let James go out there. It wasn't safe. "No. You stay here and prepare the place. And take care of each other. If I'm right, things are going to be busy here for a while. Do what you can for yourselves while you can."
"Okay," James said. "You be careful out there though."
"I will," Sam promised.
He went to the chair where he had draped his jacket and tucked his gun into the back of his pants and concealed it with his jacket. He didn't want to openly carry for fear of drawing trouble, but he wanted it for protection. There were a lot of people armed out there, some that would shoot at two men in a car just because they happened to be of different races.
He smiled at each of them and then walked out of the door.
So… Sam's plan is in motion. Chrissy was the first, and now he's opening up the hotel to more.
Until next time…
Clowns or Midgets xxx