This Would Be Paradise (Book 3)

Chapter 30

Lucas pointed a finger at John. "You stay." John froze in the middle of getting up.

"Like hell I'm stayin' here!" John said with venom.

"You'll just slow us down and we're gonna need to take the stairs, which you can't do with that injured leg," Lucas said, no hint of superiority, just cold hard truth.

John let out a very unlike John curse. He knew Lucas was right. We couldn't afford to look after him if we had to have another shoot-out. John held his gun close as his eyes swept over the floor.

"I don't like it, but fine."

"All right, let's go."

Lucas led the remainder of us down the hallway. I gave John one last look just before he disappeared from sight. He gave me a clipped nod, letting me know he would be fine. He wasn't one to let ego get in the way. Together, the rest of us ran down the hallway heading for the stairs just past the dead elevator. Whatever power they were using to keep the lights on didn't extend to the lift. Lucas opened the door to the stairs and we ascended upwards in grim silence.

We still needed to find the girls and Zoe. There's no way they would be up there by themselves, so I prepared myself for more carnage. The door to the second floor flew open as we were still climbing. A burly man without a shirt burst through and began shooting. We all returned fire and the guy was hit many times. He stumbled back into the hallway as we took the rest of the stairs two at a time.

Lucas reached the door as it was about to close and held it open. He lifted up his hand, stalling us right behind him. The mercenary we had gunned down was lying on his back in the hallway, one of his feet stuck in the doorway. Lucas shuffled the guy's foot out of the way and stuck his head out the door, a bullet nearly hitting him, implanting itself in the frame beside his head. Lucas returned fire with just his gun sticking out of the doorway, his body still in the stairwell. They took turns shooting at each other until the other person stopped. Either they were out of bullets or Lucas had hit him with his random shooting.

We burst into the hallway. Indeed, another man lay dead about midway down the corridor with bullet holes decorating the wall space around him. Sheri let off a couple of nervous rounds even though there wasn't anyone actually shooting at us anymore. Lucas yelled at her to stop and she did. She looked deathly pale from fright. Slowly, we inched our way down the second floor hall. Door after closed door passed us. I heard knocking and screams from the inside.

"Help us!" a distinctly female voice sounded from the other side of room 215.

"Get back from the door!" I yelled.

I pulled out my Beretta and shot at the card reader door handle. It blew apart and the door creaked open. Three terrified girls looked back at us as they scuttled away having spotted our weapons.

"We're here to help," I said holding up my arms.

"All that shooting downstairs, was that you?" one girl asked.

She couldn't have been more than fifteen. Her dirty and tattered clothes hung off her small frame still skinny with adolescence. Those mercenaries deserved worse than a bullet to the head.

"Yes. Do you know where the rest of the men are?" It was a long shot, but I had to ask.

The young girl shook her head, but the oldest of the three spoke up.

"T-they use the meetin' room at the end of the hall. It overlooks the pool." She pointed due north toward the end of the hallway.

I looked at Lucas. "Why aren't they out here shooting at us?"