An overweight man ran past him. Jim grabbed his shoulder.
'Sir, can you tell me what's going on?'
The man scowled, out of breath. 'Emergency meeting, buddy. Just like the drills. What rock you been sleeping under?'
'I'm new here. We just arrived ...'
'Oh, sorry about that. Well, like I said, they're calling an emergency meeting. Everybody is supposed to meet in the auditorium right away. And they never do drills at this hour, so whatever's going on, it must be real. Best get down there.'
The man pulled away, hurrying on before Jim could ask him how to get to the auditorium. He dimly recalled seeing it during Smokey's tour of the building, but he couldn't remember what floor it was on.
Jim ducked back inside and shut the door just as the alarm stopped.
Danny was sitting up in bed, looking small and frail. 'Is there trouble, Daddy? Are the monster-people coming?'
'I don't know, squirt. I'm sure it's okay. Probably just a drill.'
Danny looked confused. 'You mean like a fire drill? We had those in school. They were kind of fun.'
'You know what? Why don't you get dressed and we'll see what's happening?'
'Okay.'
Danny clambered out of bed, his hair mussed and his face creased from the pillow. He slipped out of his pajamas and into some clothes that Jim laid out for him. While he dressed, Jim slipped into his shirt, socks, and work boots. It felt strange to be wearing the steel-toed boots again, the same dusty, weather-beaten boots that had carried him from West Virginia to here. Once again, he thought of Martin. And Frankie.
Frankie ...
Jim wondered if they should check on her. If there was trouble, they needed to make sure she'd be safe, and aware of what was happening. He felt a sudden twinge of unidentifiable dread.
'Daddy?'
'What, Danny?'
'I'm worried about Frankie.'
Danny felt it too, whatever it was.
'So am I.'
'Maybe we should go check on her,' Danny suggested. 'Make sure she's getting better.'
'I think that's a good idea. Let's go.'
Jim locked the door behind them. The hallways were crowded with people, and they elbowed their way through the throng. Danny clutched Jim's hand so they wouldn't get separated.
It took ten minutes to get an elevator that wasn't heading downstairs.
They stepped inside and the elevator lurched upward. While they waited, Jim's apprehension grew worse.
Danny squeezed his hand.
Jim smiled, trying to be brave for his son. He felt anything but.
DiMassi belched, and said, 'What's up, fellas?'
Branson nodded, but said nothing. He continued to watch the corridor.
'I thought you had tuberculosis or some shit,' Carson said. 'What the hell are you doing here?'
'Nah, I'm fine.' DiMassi coughed. 'Forrest told me to get up here on the double. What the fuck is going on? This better be important. I was asleep.'
Branson shrugged, stifling a yawn. Carson just glared at the overweight pilot.
'Listen up,' Quinn whispered. 'Ramsey's gone off the deep end.'
'Say what?' The fat pilot's belly hung over his belt, wiggling as he laughed. He stank of sweat and cigarette smoke.
'I'm serious,' Quinn insisted. 'The whole building's
getting cabin fever or something. Everybody's going crazy. Maynard and Kilker snapped today too.'
Carson's face darkened at the mention of both.
'Sorry man,' Quinn apologized, and then turned back to DiMassi. 'Maynard tried to kill Carson and Doc Stern, and Kilker jumped off the roof this morning.'
DiMassi turned to Carson. 'That true, faggot?'
'Yeah.' The young soldier nodded in affirmation. 'And I told you before, you fat fuck. Don't call me a faggot.'
'Both of you knock it off,' Quinn bristled. 'We don't have time for that shit. Mr. Ramsey's lost it, too. He's no longer fit for command, and apparently, something big is getting ready to go down. Bates wants us to take him.'
'Kill him?' DiMassi asked.
