“There are a thousand things that can go into that world. Only save a part of it to overlap with his.
He can’t think of you all the time and you must grant him the privilege of neglecting you (occasionally.”
“Doesn’t he love me?”
Thelma was silent for a moment, then said “Only you can answer that.
But first I would consider carefully exactly what you mean by love.”
Jenny was about to reply when there was another distant, muffled explosion. Something heavy clattered to the roof of the elevator and the cage shuddered and slid downward a few inches.
“That was an explosion!” the big man shouted. “Where the hell was it!”
“Further up,” Leroux said in a strained voice. “I don’t know where.”
“Look!”somebody shouted.
Through the glass side of the cage, Jenny saw two thick snakes coil past and drop into the night, slamming back against the elevator itself.
“The cables!” a man yelled. “Two of the damned cables have been cut!”
Life was suddenly frighteningly real to Jenny again.
Please God, she thought, don’t let us fall. Please.
CHAPTER 57
Quinn Reynolds pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes and realized that her hairdo had collapsed. Her formerly neat dress was wrinkled and stained in a dozen places.
Not that anybody had noticed or that she herself cared -there were far more important things to worry about.
Smoke had started to seep into the restaurant and several tenants who had straggled up from the lower floors reported, as had Douglas, that the machinery floor below the Observation Deck was ablaze. She couldn’t imagine how they had managed to get past the machinery-room landing which was open to the flames but they had.
Probably held their breath and ran, with all the risks that that entailed. One of the older men was badly burned on his right arm and two of the women were coughing badly.
The kitchen first-aid kit had been of some help in treating the burn but useless when it came to smoke inhalation.
There were now almost fifty people in the restaurant, the majority of them tenants who had come up from the floors below. Several of them had minor burns and a few had inhaled too much smoke. The one that worried her the most was the little girl. Her father had brought her up shortly after the explosion on the machinery floor.
She was having a great deal of trouble breathing and was only half conscious at the time. Quinn had done what she could for her and then the interior decorator …
Douglas … had taken over. At one point, Quinn saw that he was giving the girl artificial respiration, using the old method.
Odd, Quinn thought, she had known Douglas from the numerous times he had had lunch in the room but had never figured him as one who could take over in an emergency. But that seemed to be exactly what he was doing. He was working with the girl now, looking up only to give brief orders to the olive-skinned boy who hovered nearby. She watched as Jesus went into the kitchen with boxes of candles and began to replace the ones that had burned down at the various tables. He would glance at Douglas occasionally, his face a study of conflicting emotions, and Quinn wondered what their relationship might be. She had known other relationships of that sort and inevitably it was the boy who held the whip hand. This seemed to be much more even-handed.
There was nothing she could do elsewhere in the room at the moment.
Quinn walked over to Douglas and knelt beside him. “How is she?”
“She’s taken in a lot of smoke,” Douglas said, worried.
“I was afraid she had stopped breathing there for a moment.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“No-Jesus will help you with the other diners if you need him.
Just tell him what you want to do.” He sniffed the air. “It’s getting pretty stuffy in here; we may have to break out a window for ventilation.” He looked back down at the girl and shook, his head: “We’ve got to get her out of here.”
The father standing nearby asked, “Are you sure there’s no way down?”
Quinn shook her head. “All of the elevators are out and it’s impossible to go back down the way the others have come up.”
Douglas returned to ministering to the girl. She was coughing more weakly now. He . felt her pulse and bit his lip.
“Just too much wine, Quinn.” She turned. Harlee Claiborne, who had been taking care of the youth in the men’s room, had now returned.
He said with a wan smile, “He’ll live, though right now I don’t think he wants to.
In any event, he’ll think twice before he touches wine again.
Where are his parents?”
“They went down in the last elevator load,” Quinn said.
“The one that’s stuck?” He frowned. “I.think it would be better if we didn’t tell him that just yet. Is there anything that can be done about it?”
“Not while the fires are burning; the people in the cage will just have to wait it out. The brakes held, thank God, though somebody here said the cables would hold it anyway. Actually, I’m afraid we’re in more serious trouble than they are.”
“It looks like it,” Claiborne said. A shadow crossed his face.
“I wish I knew what happened to Lisolette. I have a hunch that she went below to try and help some of her friends get out.”
“Maybe she succeeded,” Quinn said, trying to cheer him up. “She’s probably down in the lobby now, worrying about you.”
“I certainly hope she’s down there, though not necessarily worrying about me.” He hesitated, then added wistfully: “The world would be a much drabber place without her-at least for me.”
“Quinn,” Douglas asked suddenly, “are you sure there’s nobody here with any medical knowledge?”
“I’ve already checked-I’m afraid not.” -He motioned her closer and she knelt down on the floor. “We’re going to lose her, you know,” Douglas said, his voice shaking. “We have to get her down.”
“There’s no way,” Quinn said sadly.
Douglas looked back down at the girl. “No, I don’t suppose there is,” he muttered. Suddenly he raised his head and said: “Listen!”
Quinn strained her ears and over the mumble of conversation in the room heard a beating sound. The sound wavered in intensity as if it were approaching and receding from the building, or as if the sound itself was being carried away by the gusts of wind.
“Helicopter?” Quinn asked. “What would it be doing out there?”
Douglas stood up, said, “Jesus, take care of the girl,” then grabbed Quinn by the arm and half pulled her across the restaurant, weaving through the scattered tables until they were at the glass expanse of the outer wall. It took her a few seconds before she made out the running lights of the small helicopter.
It had a plastic bubble passenger compartment, the sort that could carry just two people, and as it hovered outside the windows she could see the stenciled news logo of K.Y.S-TV on its side. Inside the bubble, she thought she could see a man with heavy camera equipment on his shoulder but she couldn’t be sure.
“How do we get to the roof?” Douglas demanded.
“There’s a service ladder in the kitchen.”
“Let’s go.
Quinn led the way and Douglas followed her. He grabbed a white tablecloth from one of the tables as he went, scattering the dishes and silverware over the floor.
The ladder was a permanent steel one bolted to the rear wall of the kitchen. Above it, in the ceiling, was a small trapdoor.
