The Assault: The Revealing, Infestation, Infiltration, The Fog Page 25

  His gaze shifted from us to the street.

  I caught him before he hit the floor.

  In two beats of my heart, two others joined us. One was an African-American woman with salt-and-pepper hair cut so close to her scalp she was an eighth of an inch from bald. Her features were sharp. To tell the truth, she was stunning. I recognized Ebony Watt from the pictures Andi showed us in the limo.

  The second person was Jonathan Waterridge, Krone’s other partner. He approached quickly but calmly. He didn’t strike me as a man prone to panic. A good quality right now. Waterridge took Krone’s other arm. “What is it, Allen?”

  “I’m fine, Jon. Just . . . um . . .” He pointed at the window.

  “Can you stand?” Waterridge looked Krone up and down like a doctor with X-ray eyes.

  Krone nodded. “I’m okay now.” His voice sounded stronger.

  Waterridge slowly released Krone’s other arm and, seeing that his partner wasn’t going to do a header, moved to the window. Both looked out, then down. Neither reacted.

  “The fog?” Waterridge asked.

  I answered for him. “Yes.”

  Waterridge and Watt exchanged glances, then turned their attention back to us.

  “I don’t get it,” Watt said. I detected a slight accent in her voice. “It’s just fog.”

  I caught the professor staring at me. He went to the window for another look. I was happy to stay where I was and serve as Krone’s prop.

  Waterridge stepped back to Krone. “I thought maybe there was damage from the earthquake, bodies in the street, fires, something, but all I see is fog.”

  Krone spoke in hushed tones. “There are things in the fog. I saw them. Creatures.”

  “Creatures?” Waterridge looked at me. “We need to get Mr. Krone a chair. He needs to rest.”

  I recognized the tone. I hear it each time I’m forced to tell someone what our team deals with: disbelief. “I saw them, too. So did the professor.”

  The professor said nothing. He kept his gaze glued to the sights below.

  “Tell them, Dr. McKinney. They’ll believe you.”

  The professor turned. “Tank. The fog is rising.”

  Not what I wanted to hear.

  Ebony Watt and Janice Krone, who seemed to appear from nowhere, helped me get Krone to a chair. Waterridge decided the guests needed a little encouragement.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “thank you for your calm and courageous response. It’s been quite an evening. First, let me assure you, you are in a safe place. This building not only meets the most rigid earthquake standards, it exceeds them. You are safe here.”

  “But we should leave, right?” some woman in the crowd said.

  “No, not yet. As you can tell, we’re on emergency power. Buildings this size have only one elevator that can operate on emergency power. I will check to see if the generator is working or if the earthquake knocked it offline. Our best way out will be the stairwells, but I suggest we wait for a bit. There will probably be an aftershock soon, and you’re less likely to get hurt here than trying to walk down nearly fifty floors. Most likely, the power will be back on soon and the elevators will be online.”

  “You’re sure we’re safe here?” This time it was a man’s voice, a frightened man’s voice. “I felt the building sway.”

  “Absolutely.” Waterridge tucked his hands into his pants pockets like a man without a care in the world. “Not many people know this, but architects and structural engineers design tall buildings to sway. If they didn’t sway in strong wind or earthquakes, they would experience much more damage. I know it may have felt like more, but the sway was only a couple of feet in each direction. So, swaying is good—even if it feels otherwise.

  “That being said, I suggest we stay calm. Help yourself to the food and drink. Not too much on the alcohol, just in case we all have to walk down the stairs. It would be bad form to survive an earthquake then break a toe on the exit stairs.” That brought a few chuckles.

  “For now,” Waterridge continued, “I ask that you stay away from the windows. I’m being overcautious, I know, but humor me.”

  The guy was smooth, I had to give him that.

  I left Allen Krone in the care of his wife and worked my way to my friends. Brenda still held Daniel. I’m pretty sure it would take a crowbar to loosen her grip. Daniel seemed fine with that.

  “What’s going on?” Andi kept her voice low. “What did that guy see out there? What did you see? Daniel said something about sharks. Sharks? Really?”

  The professor raised a hand. “Easy, Andi. One question at a time.”

  “Sorry. I’m a little shook. And I don’t mean by the earthquake. That didn’t help.”

  I stepped next to her and put my arm around her shoulder. She was trembling.

  “Not sharks,” the professor said. “Worse.” He tried to describe what we saw, toning down the gruesome details, probably for Daniel’s benefit.

  “So this is why we’re here?” Andi looked around. “It must be.”

  “Where’d they come from?” Brenda almost sounded like her old self. No doubt, she would be telling each of us where to get off soon. I looked forward to that.

  “I don’t know,” the professor said.

  “I don’t want to know,” I said. “I just want them to go back where they came from.”

  “How are we gonna do that?” Brenda said. “If I heard right, we ain’t going down there and start exchanging punches with those things.”

  “I have no idea,” the professor said. “I’m open to creative thoughts.”

  No one had any.

  The building began to shake again.

  CHAPTER

  6

  A Rising Fog

  The guests had clumped into small groups. Loud laughter had been replaced with mumbles and occasional nervous chuckles. Some ate. Some paced. Some stood around looking lost. For the first half hour nearly everyone pulled out their smartphones and pressed them into service, except there was no service. No phone calls. No texts. No e-mail. No Internet. I’ll admit it; I did the same thing as did the professor, Andi, and Brenda.

  Mr. Waterridge returned and told everyone that he had used a landline to reach fire and rescue. “They suggest we wait here. Apparently it’s a little confusing at ground level.”

  A little confusing? After what I had seen of the murderous things in the fog, it was no problem believing there might be a bit of confusion. The horrible sights returned, and my fear elevated a good bit. I felt just as sick now as when I first saw the monstrosities mowing down people in the street.

  A thin woman stepped forward. “Our cell phones still don’t work. Can we use the landline to call our families? They’ll be worried, and we’re worried about them.”

  Waterridge’s face showed great compassion and understanding. It also tipped me off to the answer.

  “I wish you could. I understand the problem, but I’m afraid the phone line went dead just before I finished the call. I’m sure it will be up in no time. The best thing for us to do now is be patient. I’m sure we’ll all be headed home soon.”

  I wasn’t so sure. From the professor’s expression, he wasn’t convinced, either. The girls didn’t have to say anything for me to know they were carrying a load of doubt. We had seen too much in the past to know that all this would blow over if we just sat tight. At least Brenda had set Daniel down. He is a bit big to be held like a toddler.

  While Waterridge continued to talk, the professor motioned with his head for me to follow him. I did, but I didn’t like where he was leading me. He made for the windows. Really? I had to look down there again? I kept my fears to myself. I’m supposed to be the macho guy of the group, but my machismo was paper-thin.

  “What do you see, Tank?”

  Now you know why I call him the professor. Okay, he was a professor, that’s the big reason, but if you hang with the guy you soon learn that he loves to teach and test. He always has an opinion and wants to make su
re we know he’s the one with the brains.

  “I see fog. It’s what I don’t see that scares me. Those things below the top surface of the fog.”

  “I know what you mean.” He shuddered. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him shudder. “That, however, is not what I’m getting at. Look again.”

  Something the professor said to me came back. It had been a stab in the heart the first time, but I was focused on holding up Mr. Krone. “The fog is rising, just like you said.”

  “It’s rising fast.”

  Since I couldn’t see the street below, the best I could do is guess at how much the stuff had risen. When I first looked out the window, I could see the heads of pedestrians. Sometimes it was just the top of their heads, but with taller people I could see all the way to their shoulders. I couldn’t see that now. Of course, for all I knew, the fog-monsters might have eaten all the people below. Now I could see nothing but the churning fog. No trucks. No busses. No tall vehicles at all.

  “I can’t be sure,” I said, “but I’m guessin’ the fog is up to the fourth or fifth floor.”

  “That’s my estimation, too.”

  As we watched, several of the creatures broke the surface, their heads swiveling from side to side. Then they looked up.

  “They’re looking at us, Professor.”

  “Maybe. I doubt they can see us.”

  They began to move in a circle, like sharks. The sight of that poured ice water down my spine. Despite the professor’s doubt, I felt sure those things were sizing us up. A few moments later, the creatures disappeared below the surface again.

  The professor turned, and I followed him away from the windows and the unwanted view they provided. We had moved only a few steps when I saw Mr. Krone motioning for us to come to where he was seated. His wife, Janice, stood by his side. I didn’t have to be a mind reader to know how frightened she was.

  When we reached him, I dropped to a knee to better look him in the eyes. There was still a keen intelligence there. If Daniel was right—what am I saying, Daniel is always right. The kid said Krone was sick. It wasn’t obvious. I doubt most people in the room knew. That’s probably how Krone wanted it.

  I gave a little smile to our host. “How you doin’, Mr. Krone?”

  “Call me Allen.”

  “Only if you call me Tank.”

  He gave me a small smile. “I’m fine, Tank.”

  I looked at Janice. It’s been my experience that spouses are more truthful about the health of their partners. She cocked her head. I took that to mean she wasn’t in full agreement.

  Krone rose from the chair. I was on my feet a second later. “You should rest.”

  “Nonsense. I don’t want my guests to worry unduly.” He stretched his back and wobbled an inch or two. It took a lot of willpower for me not to seize his arm. He steadied.

  “What did you see?” He asked quietly. “Just now, I mean.”

  We didn’t answer at first.

  “I saw you at the window. I’m pretty good at reading body language. Unless I miss my guess, you saw something that made you . . . uncomfortable.”

  Uncomfortable. That was an understatement. Still, we said nothing.

  “Okay, gentlemen. I saw those things, too. In fact, I keep seeing it in my head, so I’m not going to be shocked by talk of monsters and whatever that fog is. You’re in my building. You owe me the honor of the truth.”

  The professor pressed his lips into a line and looked at Janice.

  “My wife can take it. Information is better than ignorance. Now tell me what you saw.”

  “The fog is rising, sir. Before, we could see almost to street level. The fog was maybe five feet above ground. I make it to be up to about the fourth floor now.”

  “And it’s still rising?”

  “Yes.” The professor shifted his weight. “I would have to observe it over time to guess at the rate of its climb, but it is significant.”

  Krone nodded, then lowered his head like a man deep in thought. “Fog can get pretty high, and I doubt this is ordinary fog. Creatures can swim in the stuff. That’s not normal.”

  “I need to ask a question if I may, sir.” The professor kept his eyes on the man.

  “Ask it.”

  “The stairwells—could the fog get into them?”

  Krone nodded. “Stairwells are not airtight. There needs to be an exchange of air, so yes, fog could seep in at the base of the exit doors at street level.”

  “What about the floors below ground?”

  “Yes. We have to assume that if the fog was at street level, and we know it was, that it could have poured into the parking floors below the building.”

  “That means the parking floors could be teeming with those things.” I thought it worth mentioning.

  “Yes,” Krone said, “but we’re asking the wrong question. The question isn’t whether or not the fog can get in, but whether or not the creatures can get in.”

  “I think they need the fog.” The professor put his hands behind his back, striking a relaxed pose I know he didn’t feel. “The few times I’ve seen the creatures stick their heads above the fog, they soon submerged again. If submerged is the right word.”

  “Works for me,” I said.

  “The fog is like water is to fish.”

  I could see the professor’s point. “So what happens if the fog rises to the floor we’re on?”

  “They still have to get in. They can’t fit under the door.” Krone spoke without conviction.

  “No, they can’t, but they have hands. Hands with claws. At least the best I can tell.” This time it was the professor who lowered his head in thought. “Mr. Krone—Allen—no one knows more about this building than you and your partners. Is there any way those things can get into the building?”

  Krone shook his head, then stopped abruptly as if a thought had slammed into him. “I’m just thinking aloud here. Let’s assume they can go wherever the fog goes. The higher the fog, the higher they can move. That would have to be true on the inside of the building, too.” He fell silent. “If I were them, I’d open the doors to the stairwells, but I’d find away to open the doors to the elevators in the parking structure. Fog would pour in. If the cab is there, they could tear out the ceiling. The fog would climb the shaft at the same rate it’s climbing outside the building.”

  I wasn’t enjoying this conversation. A motion to my left grabbed my attention. It was Andi. She had Daniel with her. She stepped forward and smiled at Krone. “Excuse me. May I steal my two friends away for a little while?”

  The professor didn’t appreciate the interruption. He hated interruptions. “Andi, we’re in the middle of a conversation.”

  She gave him a look that said, Shut up and come with me. That’s what I got out of it. Apparently, the professor got the same message. We put some distance between us and anyone else.

  “This better be good, Andi. We’re in a life-and-death situation here.”

  “Ya think?” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “There’s something you need to see.”

  “If you mean outside—”

  “I don’t,” she snapped. “Follow me.”

  Andi is a nice person. I think the world of her. She has skills no one else has, so when I hear anger in her voice, I get confused. Then I get afraid. She started for the back of the cavernous room.

  “Where are we going?” the professor asked. At least he wasn’t resisting anymore.

  “The ladies’ restroom.”

  “Well, of course.” The professor cut his eyes my way. I chose to remain silent.

  The restrooms were along the back wall—the only wall without windows. We stopped a few feet from the door to the restroom. A similar door nearby was marked for men.

  “Brenda went missing while you two were taking in the sights. She left Daniel with me. She had that odd look she gets sometimes. When she didn’t return, I got worried, so I went searching. I found her in the restroom.”

  “She’s been
known to use bathrooms before.”

  The professor thought he was being cute, but Andi disagreed. “Once, just for once, old man, stop trying to prove what a jerk you can be.”

  “Old man?”

  “Ancient,” Daniel said.

  If carnivorous creatures swimming in a fog hadn’t already put me on the razor’s edge, Andi’s behavior would have done it. Andi had been the professor’s assistant for a good long time, and no one knew him better. She normally showed great respect. Something had pushed Andi beyond her normal behavior.

  The professor opened his mouth, then closed it. I was thankful for that.

  “As I was saying. She disappeared. I went looking. I found her in here. She’s been at it again.”

  Andi turned and plowed into the ladies’ restroom, holding the door open for us. Daniel walked in with her. I hesitated. I mean, it was the girl’s bathroom, after all. Andi stared at me, narrowed her eyes, and tapped a foot. I walked in, the professor right behind me.

  This was awkward. I have to admit that I’ve never been in the ladies’ room. Never had need to be.

  Its size surprised me. Two emergency lights blazed from opposite corners. The light was harsh, but needed.

  Andi led us past a set of stalls, then stopped. There was Brenda. Sitting on the tile floor staring at the white tile on the wall. She had hiked up her evening gown enough to allow her to sit on the floor. It wasn’t a good look for her.

  As I said earlier, Brenda is a tattoo artist. And I mean a real artist. We all have our “sometimes” gifts. Andi sees and sorts patterns like a computer; the professor denies any special skills, but he does some pretty special thinking; I heal people—sometimes, it’s very hit and miss. I don’t know why. Yes, I’ve been thinking about having a go at healing Mr. Krone, but I’ve had monsters on the mind.

  Brenda draws things. When the urge comes over her, she has to put the images in her brain on paper, or if she’s doing a tattoo, ink it into someone’s skin. That has led to some interesting conversations.