Disclaimer: Charlaine Harris owns all.
Rated M for several reasons.
Chpt 21 Super Happy Fun Slide
SPOV
"Sookie!" Quinn roars as I streak away from him across the crowded lobby. "Are you crazy?"
Rhetorical question surely?
The alarms are already blaring as I kick off my professional heels and start up the stairs, the first couple of floors are easy but soon I'm fighting against a tide of people making their way down with single minded determination. Some are even man-handling travel coffins, I haven't thought that far ahead, I guess Alcide and I, assuming he's still up there, can come up with something. It seems to take forever but finally I burst free on our floor, battered, bruised and grateful for the plush red carpet on my bare feet.
Alcide is already hovering in the doorway of our suite.
"Thank god." He growls, running forward to meet me with a crushing hug. "What the hell's happening?"
"Bombs." I gasp. "Hotel's full of bombs. We have to get the vampires out."
"How?" He asks sensibly.
"Can you handle Pam and Thalia if I get Eric?"
"Probably but how the hell are you going to carry him?"
"He's old, Pam says he can get up during the day if he has to, it'll be fine."
"Sookie . . . ."
I can see in his mind that he's thinking about slinging me over his shoulder and making a run for it.
"No. Alcide. They're our responsibility. We have to get them out and we don't have time to argue about it."
"Fine." He huffs. "Are you sure you can manage?"
No.
"Yes. Now go, we haven't long left, the timer was set for noon."
With a curse he wheels away and in moments he's disappeared around the corner.
The light tight shutters have come down on all the windows and its pitch black inside the suite, the only illumination the blinking green light on the keypad of Eric's door. I manage to get to it without losing too many chunks of toe on the semi invisible furniture, sighing in relief when the door opens, the alarms must release all the locks. My relief turns to fear when I realise the lid of Eric's travel coffin is up and he isn't inside but then I spot him flung across the bed, naked, one hand cupping his assets.
I know he's technically dead at this point but I can't believe the noise hasn't roused him. What if I can't get him to wake up?
"Eric!" I yell in his ear.
"Eric!" I shake him by the shoulders, screaming in his face this time. His skin is soft and smooth, like a baby's bottom.
"Eric! Wake up!" This time I double slap him.
Oh god Eric, please wake up, I'll drag you out if I have to but we won't make it, the bombs are underneath us and I really, really, hate fire. What if I can't wake him up? Oh god I wish I was wearing a watch, how long have we got?
Think. Use your brain. Oh shit. Retreating inside myself I start gathering up the sticky Eric light, mentally abusing it as I go along with everything I can think of. "ERIC!"
It works, his eyes snap open and in a moment I'm trapped under him on the bed.
"What are you doing?" He snarls, fangs out, face twisted in fury.
"Alarms! Bombs! Trying to wake you up."
Instantly I'm released and dragged to my feet with him, except now he looks confused and groggy.
"We have to get out of here Eric. We only have a few minutes left."
"Pam, Thalia?"
"Alcide's getting them. Move Eric, please, we have to get out."
I don't know what came first the deep, lung vibrating boom, or being thrown in the air like a rag doll. I'm pretty sure the ringing ears and the pain were a close second.
Somehow I've ended up on the bed with Eric arched over me like a faraday cage.
"Ouch." He mutters succinctly as falling ceiling rains down around us.
The rumbling boom is finally receding but even I can hear the ominous creaking and groaning of the structure around us and it dawns on me that the bed is already canting at an alarming angle. The building shudders and I can already smell burning.
"Are you injured?" Eric demands.
"Not seriously." My arm hurts but the initial flare of pain is already receding. "We have to get out, the Fellowship planted firebombs too."
Like Alcide, Eric doesn't waste time asking stupid questions about how I know, instead he gets to his feet, swaying slightly and then pulling the comforter out from underneath me like a magician with a table cloth.
The building shudders again and he staggers as he makes his way over to one of the bent light tight shutters, wrapping the bedclothes tightly round his head and upper body he grabs hold of the corner and rips the shutter away, ducking back from the sunlight that streams into the room.
I'm already off the bed and by his side, looking out of the window and down. We're on the pyramid side of the hotel and thanks to the new list of the building the expanse of glass is not as steep as it used to be. The whirl of activity down below us I can ignore because I've a horrible feeling I know what he's thinking.
"You're crazy!" I shriek, if the word fits . . . .
"We cannot risk the fire." He growls, voice thick and slow. "We will use the travel coffin as a sled."
"What?!"
I watch stupidly as he drags the coffin, still on its wheeled stand across the room and positions it in front of the window. If it weren't for the fact I can see the eerie glow of flames reflected on the walls in the other room I'd do more objecting, instead I grab the sheets off the bed and tuck them around as much of his body as I can. Despite being sluggish in one fluid movement he picks up the side table nearest the window and smashes it into the glass which shatters on impact.
I can't believe we're going to do this.
And then we are. In a lighting fast move I can't follow he snatches me up, bracing me between his legs in the coffin, and even before I've opened my mouth to start screaming he's pushed us off and we're hurtling down the one of the steel girders forming the pyramid.
It's a short and terrifying ride and I'm not sure what was loudest, the shriek of tortured metal, the sound of shattering glass, or my hysterical screaming.
About ten feet from the bottom the steel girder is twisted and we hit it at maximum velocity, the coffin flipping up and flinging us out like two well thrown footballs. I think Eric was trying to get his body between me and the ground but he failed. The impact knocked all the breath out of me, the verdict is out on my teeth . . . .
"Jesus Christ!" Someone shouts, running toward us.
Despite the pain I manage to twist onto my back, Eric is already smoking, most of the blankets having been stripped away by the impact.
"Cover the vampire!" I scream. Ouch.
To my relief one of the fire-fighters throws a tarp over him as he rushes toward me.
"Are you alright Miss?" He asks.
"Yes, I think so, I landed on my face."
"It looks like it Miss, lie still while I get one of the medics to check you over. MEDIC! Over here!"
"Is he okay?" I ask, gesturing toward the tarp covered mound that is Eric.
"I don't know Miss, not my area of speciality, he ain't moving but on the plus side he ain't smoking anymore either. They're moving all the vamps to the underground parking garage at the bottom of the street, don't worry about him, we'll get him down there."
"What about everyone else, did they get the hotel evacuated?"
He winces. "There's still quite a few folks trapped in there, we're working to get 'em out. You were lucky Miss, there's one hell of a fire raging now."
I close my eyes. Firebombs. Just how sick do you have to be to blow the bottom out of a hotel and then set fire to the rubble? I don't even want to think about it . . . .
I open them again when I get a glimpse of my bloody face in the mind of the EMT as he bends over me. The fire-fighter flashes me a tight smile and then goes on about his business.
"We need to get you down to the hospital and checked out." The EMT announces after a cursory inspection. "You don't look too bad, your eyes are clear and focussed but . . . ."
Another earth shattering explosion drowns out his words and he leans right down over me in an attempt to protect me from the wave of flaming debris bouncing down the side of the hotel.
"Can you stand?" He asks urgently when it's over. "It's not safe here."
"Fear is a great motivator." I whimper as he helps me to my feet, steadying me as I sway slightly.
I don't think anything's broken, I just feel stiff all over so it doesn't take him long to get me to the other side of the street where a group of the walking wounded already sitting on the sidewalk, resting against an undamaged shop front.
He helps me sit down and then mutters about being back in a minute when someone else starts calling for a medic.
Eric seems to be okay, he's out of it again but I can feel his presence inside me. Tentatively I open the bond to check, there are no emotions there, just a steady hum of what I can only assume is simple existence. I can't just leave him there, curled up in the street like road kill, with a martyred sigh I struggle back to my feet and wobble over with every intention of dragging him down the street myself.
I can't do that either. My shields are shot but the clearest things coming through are the thoughts of the people still trapped inside the hotel. I can tell where they are, I can help the rescue crews dig in the right places, I can even feel the voids. I can't leave.
"Sorry Eric." I mutter, hefting some of the more manageable chunks of rubble to hold down the edge of his tarp. "I'll get to you in a minute."
Several hours later it's all I can do to still put one foot in front of the other. I've gone down several times in the higgledy piggledy rubble and my body is a mass of scrapes, cuts and bruises. I'm pretty sure the Stackhouse stubbornness is the only thing keeping me upright. That and the Fire Chief, who despite his initial threat to have me arrested, soon changed his tune when he realised I could deliver on what I was advertising. That man's one hard task master.
I haven't seen anyone I know except Quinn and my worry about Alcide and the others is sapping my ability to concentrate. What if I sent him off to his death? It's one thing for me to be impetuous and stupid but it's a heinous crime to drag someone else into it. I'm worried about Eric too, despite asking several times no one has moved him to the parking garage and I keep twisting around to check that he's still there and safe. He's going to be furious when he wakes up . . . .
My distraction is my undoing and I go down again, face first naturally, this time I'm not inclined to get up. There's nothing left for me to do. There are no more thoughts to look for, the last one faded away a few minutes ago, there's only voids left and since the fire is out I guess they can wait. I have to get up though, I have to sort Eric out and find the others.
One of the fire-fighters escorts me down off the wreckage, depositing me on the asphalt beside Eric before zooming off to find an EMT. I can't help feeling it should be dark, a nightmare scene like this should be shot at night, with flickering lights and ominous shadows but despite the still billowing smoke if I look up I can see clear blue sky and the tops of perfectly normal looking buildings. It just feels wrong.
I hurt and there's blood running into my eyes.
The rescue workers are bringing out bodies now. I don't want to stay here for that. Turning I look down the street, it's only a few hundred yards to the parking garage and it's all downhill.
Crawling around I shove the debris off Eric's tarp and after a couple of false starts I manage to get it wrapped around him so I can grip the corners. Then I get to my feet and heft it over my shoulder so I can drag him behind me. He weighs a ton. Why couldn't he have been a small skinny Viking and not built like a brick outhouse?
I'm tired and everything hurts. Blood keeps dripping into my eyes and my face feels like it's on fire. It's hit a few hard surfaces today, I must look like hell. I need a bath. He's getting heavier, how is that even possible? My ankle really hurts. And my knee. And my arm. Even my hair hurts.
Finally reaching the entrance I start down the ramp. For some reason I'm giggling. I must be feeling better, a bit light headed though. What a day. I've been blown up. Ridden a coffin down the side of a hotel, spent hours digging through rubble listening to things I'd rather not have heard and topped it all off dragging a dead guy down the street wrapped in a tarp. I really shouldn't be laughing, it's inappropriate and it hurts my ribs.
When the squarest and shortest woman I've ever seen appears in front of me wearing a white Doctor's coat it is, without a doubt, the funniest thing I've ever seen. Exhausted I drop the edges of the tarp and sink to my knees, so now she's taller than me. This is also funny.
"A fairy rescuing a vampire." She drawls. "This is new."
The air around her starts to shimmer. Or at least I think it does, I've blood in my eyes again.
"Niall. Niall Brigant. You are needed." The tiny woman intones.
Oh yes. I could do with a hug right now. Oh look, here comes another hard surface to introduce my face to . . . .