neck. The man tried to raise the shotgun, but Gail pried it from his hand. Then, Novak pulled him off Gail and into the water. The two of them slipped beneath the waves.
CHAPTER 46
Stunned, Gail wiped water from her eyes and blinked. Then she leaned forward and peered into the water, gripping the sides of the boat so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Sound returned—first the rain, then the cries of the birds overhead, and then the waves.
“Novak?”
Shadows moved beneath the surface, but she couldn’t identify them. Was it Novak and their attacker? McCann? A mermaid or shark-person or fuzzoid or other weird denizen of the deep? Shivering, she reached for the discarded shotgun.
Novak burst from the water, gasping and coughing. Screaming, Gail skittered backward. The boat lurched hard to one side.
“It’s okay,” he panted. Novak grabbed the side of the boat with his good hand and clung to it, eyes closed. “It’s okay. He’s dead.”
Gail opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was a low, guttural moan. She closed her mouth, took a few deep breaths through her nose, and then tried again. Her voice still trembled.
“Are you okay?”
Novak nodded.
“What about McCann? Did you see him?”
“I’m right here.”
Novak’s eyes snapped open. Gail turned around and looked behind them. She gasped with relief when she saw McCann paddling toward them.
“Son of a bitch,” Novak said. “I thought he shot you.”
McCann shook his head, spraying water droplets as he climbed into the boat. “I thought he did, too. But he didn’t. When the gun went off, it startled me. I slipped and fell into the water. Where is he?”
“Sinking to the bottom,” Novak replied.
“Think he had friends inside?” McCann nodded at the office building.
Novak shrugged, wincing in obvious pain. “I don’t know. If so, you’d think they’d have come running when they heard us fighting.”
The three of them fell silent for a moment, catching their breath. Birds continued wheeling overhead. Eventually, a few of them landed on the rooftop and studied the new arrivals with interest.
“Wonder what they’re thinking?” McCann asked.
“Dinner-time,” Novak said. “They look as hungry as I feel.”
“Well,” Gail said. “We can’t just sit out here in the rain. You’re injured, and McCann and I are both shaken up. I vote we go inside. If there was anybody else in there, they’d have taken a shot at us by now.”
“Unless they’re waiting,” McCann said. “It could be a trap.”
Novak grunted. “It could be, but I’m with Gail. Better to take our chances inside, where it’s at least partially dry, than to sit out here and wait to get eaten.”
“Those birds won’t really eat us,” McCann said.
“No,” Novak agreed, “but there’s things in the water that will.”
Without another word, they guided the boat back over to the open window. McCann went inside first, muttering about getting shot at a second time. When that didn’t happen, he reached out and grasped Novak’s good arm, and hoisted him inside. Gail followed, after tossing up the line to McCann. Once inside, she offered the shotgun to Novak. He shook his head.
“You keep it.”
The room was dark and quiet and devoid of furnishings, other than a desk, a chair and a filing cabinet—the latter of which was lying on its side and badly dented, its moldering contents scattered across the floor. The air smelled thick and musty. Gail waited for her eyes to adjust, but she could make nothing else out in the gloom.
“Wish we had a flashlight.” Novak’s voice echoed.
McCann tied the end of the line around the desk, and then pushed the piece of furniture, grunting with the effort. He stood up and wiped his hands on his wet clothes.
“It’s pretty heavy. I don’t think the boat will go anywhere.”
“We’d better hope not,” Novak said. “Otherwise, we might be here for a while. Come on. Let’s explore our new home.”
CHAPTER 47
“No,” Gail said. “McCann and I can explore the building. You’re sitting your ass down and getting some rest.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. Your arm might be broken, not to mention you almost drowned out there.”
“It’s not broken.” Novak flexed his fingers, wincing even as he grinned. “It hurts like a son of a bitch, but it’s not broken.”
“Wiggle it.”
He did as she requested, rotating his arm around and swinging it back and forth. He hissed air through his teeth and then let the arm hang limp again.
“I still want you to rest,” Gail said. “Obviously, you’re in a lot of pain. You’re not going to be much good to us if you don’t recuperate.”
Novak sat down with his back against the wall and positioned himself so that he could see out the broken window. Water dripped from his clothes, running across the floor. He sighed. “And here I thought you guys wanted me along for my sparkling personality. You just need me to help fight monsters.”
Gail didn’t respond. Instead, she watched the rivulets of water. Rather than pooling around Novak’s feet, they made their way to the far wall, as if the office building itself was leaning in that direction. Frowning, she shifted her feet. The floor certainly felt level. She wondered if it was just exhaustion playing tricks on her mind. She’d never felt so tired in her life. All she wanted to do was lay down and sleep for a day.
“Come on,” McCann said. “If we’re going to do this, then let’s get it over with. I’d like to sit down at some point tonight.”
Nodding, Gail led the way. She hoisted the shotgun in her cold, wet hands, using it to push open the office door. It led into a dark, dank hallway. Mildew stains covered the once-white walls. The carpet squelched beneath their feet. Other than the roar of the surf, steadily beating against the walls, the building was silent. Gail and McCann went from room to room, making sure each one was clear and also looking for anything useful. Most of the offices were identical to the first, but they also found two restrooms, a lunchroom with several vending machines, and a storage closet full of cleaning supplies. On the top shelf of the storage closet was a first aid kit. It had been rummaged through—probably by the man with the goggles, Gail assumed, but there were still plenty of antiseptic wipes, bandages, an assortment of over-the-counter pills, and half a roll of medical tape. The vending machines had also been broken into. The doors were unlocked, and swung open with the slightest touch. The soda machine was about half-full of bottled water and various soft drinks, all warm. The second machine held bags of potato chips, snack cakes and other junk food. The third vending machine had held perishable items—sandwiches, yogurt, juice, and other food that had long since gone bad. When McCann opened it, a terrible stench wafted out. Both he and Gail coughed.
“Close it,” Gail gasped, her eyes watering. “That stinks!”
“I don’t think we’ll be eating any of that,” he agreed. “Looks like our attacker left us with some food and water, though. At least we won’t starve to death or die of thirst anytime soon.”
