“It will be cold and windy outside,” Quinn warned.
“Chances are the roof will be covered with ice, as well.”
“We don’t have any choice,” Douglas said hurriedly.
He climbed swiftly up the ladder and pulled back the latching bolts on the trapdoor. The last one gave him some difficulty and he pounded on it with his fist. Then he shoved the door back flat on the roof.
Quinn had followed him up the ladder and was suddenly chilled by the blast of cold air and snow that roared through the opening.
“Don’t try to follow me!” Douglas shouted. He pushed through the opening. Quinn ignored his warning to the extent that she could peer out through the trapdoor opening, the wind icy against her face and hair. The roof of the Promenade Room was white with a thin sheet of glistening ice and over that a mantle of snow. To the left she could make out the penthouse and the small gardens that surrounded it, the snow-covered conifers in their redwood planters oddly cheerful, a reminder of the coming holidays. To the far right was the black mass of the shed that housed the elevator motors; the rest of the roof was pocked with a scattering of ventilator shafts.
Douglas had crawled to one of the ventilator tubes and held on to it while he stood up. Once on his feet, he braced himself against the shaft, unfurled the white tablecloth, and began to wave it back and forth. Quinn could hear the flop, flop of the ‘copter blades but for a moment she couldn’t locate it. She looked up just as it passed directly overhead. The plastic bubble threw back a dun red reflection-the reflection of the fire two floors below, she realized with sudden fear.
The helicopter was now poised over the roof, swaying back and forth as it was buffeted by the heavy winds.
Douglas redoubled his signaling. Finally the helicopter settled on the roof, its backwash blowing away the snow from the ice covering beneath. Slipping and skidding on the ice, Douglas ran toward it. As he got close, the bubble swung open and Douglas began to shout, the wind carrying away his words before Quinn could hear them.
But even-though she couldn’t hear what Douglas was saying, it was obvious he was getting angry. Suddenly he reached inside and began to struggle with the cameraman, apparently trying to pull him out of the bubble. Quinn could see -that he was belted in and for the moment it looked like he was succeeding in pushing Douglas away.
Then the camera and equipment pod-on the man’s shoulder came loose and Douglas suddenly grabbed it and jumped back. The cameraman immediately unbelted and leaped out of the bubble. Douglas held him off for an instant, then heaved the camera equipment toward the edge of the roof. It landed on the ledge and hung there ‘for a second while the cameraman raced for it. Then the wind caught the equipment pod and it tilted and slid over the edge just as the cameraman was about to grab it.
In the meantime, Douglas, in a frenzy, had pulled out several cases of camera equipment and jettisoned them over the side of the building.
Quinn held her breath. The cameraman had turned and lunged at Douglas.
The big man grabbed the cameraman’s arms and pinned them behind his back while he talked rapidly for a moment. The cameraman finally nodded. Douglas let him go and he climbed back into the passenger bubble. Douglas turned, hunched himself against the wind, and beat his way back to the trapdoor.
“Goddamned idiot!” he yelled at Quinn. “Thinks more of his camera equipment than of a dying child! Well, there’s nothing to argue about now. But you’ll have to help me.”
“They’re leaving!” Quinn cried. The helicopter had begun to rise.
“They’re just getting closer,” Douglas explained. “Let’s get the girl.” They hurried through the kitchen back into the dining room.
“Jesus, give me a hand with the girl.”
Quinn watched while he picked the girl up in his arms and Jesus, with surprising tenderness, wrapped a heavy tablecloth around her.
“She don’t look good, Mr. Douglas.” She was having trouble breathing and moaned once in Douglas’ arms. They half ran back to the kitchen and the trapdoor ladder. Douglas hurriedly climbed it, then turned and leaned down through the opening. Jesus had followed him halfway up the ladder. Quinn held him from below, her arms wrapped around the boy’s legs to keep, him from falling, while he handed the girl up to Douglas.
Then another set of hands reached past Douglas to help him.
Douglas disappeared and Quinn followed Jesus through the trapdoor opening up onto the roof, wincing as the cold wind bit through her dress.
The helicopter was only a few feet away. The cameraman was bundling the girl into the rear section that had once been occupied by his precious equipment. “I won’t be coming back!” he shouted. “It’s too dangerous; the copter’s too light in this wind.”
Douglas nodded. “Just get her to a doctor as soon as you can!”
“Come on, come on!” the pilot shouted. “This damned wind’s going to blow us right off the roof!” The cameraman climbed in and closed the bubble. The ‘copter rose, bobbled in the wind for a moment, and then soared off into the night.
“They won’t be coming back?” Quinn shouted to Douglas.
He shook his head. “No, Quinn, it would be too dangerous. But at least we got one off.”
Jesus suddenly slapped her on the back, grinning.
“What’re you worried about, lady. We’re gonna be okay!” He jerked a thumb at Douglas. “He’ll take care of it!”
Quinn’s teeth began to chatter and they ran for the trapdoor then.
She desperately wanted to believe Jesus.
My God, how she wanted to believe him.
CHAPTER 58
Harry Jernigan closed the ambulance door and stepped back, watching quietly while the white vehicle with the huge red crosses on its.
sides disappeared into the confusion of other emergency vans filling the street. Its red light started to flash and the wail of its siren filled the still night air. Then he walked back across the street to where Lisolette was standing with the three children.
They were bundled up in blankets while Lisolette looked lost in an oversized man’s overcoat.
“I think they’ll make it,” Jernigan assured her. “I talked to the driver and he said they’d had far worse tonight that were doing okay.”
“I pray to God that they’ll be all right,” Lisolette said softly.
She wrapped an arm around Martin who had started to cry.
“Well, let’s not stand around out here,” Jernigan said.
“Donaldson got hold of an emergency generator and there’s light and heat down in the lunchroom now. One of the firemen told me the Red Cross has set up a field kitchen down there for the men. We might talk them into giving us a cup of coffee. Want to try?”
Lisolette couldn’t help smiling. “I guess I’m brave enough for that.” She shepherded the two smallest children in front of her while Jernigan took Linda’s hand and they started across the plaza.
The lunchroom was surprisingly quiet; half a dozen firemen gulping mugs of steaming coffee and a few tenants huddled in the corner. “You sit here,” Jernigan said, pointing to a table by the wall. “I’ll get us some coffee and cocoa for the kids.” He hurried off. Lisolette found a handkerchief and blew Martin’s nose.
“I didn’t cry,” Chris said proudly. “Only babies cry.”
He looked at Martin accusingly.
“Martin is younger than you, Chris,” Lisolette said.
“But you are a brave boy and I’m very proud of you.”
“Boys,” Linda said, disgusted. “All they can talk about is how brave they are. Both of them cried. I saw them.”
“I did not!” Chris protested, paradoxically near tears.
“You were all very brave,” Lisolette said in a tone of voice that settled the matter.
