Detective Tammy Reynolds came slogging up in her own suit. They didn't have one big enough to fit Dolph, so she was my armed backup. Oh, joy. I couldn't send them in with Tammy as their only backup.
Tammy had managed to get her shoulder rig over the suit. She had one of those that just rode across the shoulders, no belt to put through straps. When I'd been shopping, all the holsters that just crossed the shoulders moved around on me too much. Part of it is having narrow shoulders. I'd have had to have the holster cut down. I don't buy things that have to be fussed with. Not dresses or holsters.
Reynolds smiled at me. "Larry's really disappointed that he can't come along."
"I' m relieved," I said.
She frowned at me. "I thought you'd want him to back you up."
"Yeah, but a gun can't help him if the ceiling caves in on us."
"You think it will?" she asked.
I shrugged. I'd concentrated on getting suited up, on small details, on Wren's quiet teasing. I'd managed not to dwell on the thought that we were about to walk across a floor that might collapse underneath us, then walk under it and wait for it to collapse on top of us, while wading through water full of coffins and vampires. What could be better?
"Let's just say I'm cautious."
"And you don't want to risk Larry."
"That's right. I don't like the idea of Larry getting hurt, by anything." I stared at her while I said it.
She blinked hazel eyes at me, then smiled. "Neither do I, Anita, neither do I."
I nodded and let it go. I'd done my parenting bit. I wasn't even sure why I didn't trust Tammy, but I didn't. Women's intuition, or maybe I just didn't trust much of anybody anymore. Maybe.
Tucker came back to us. "Time to suit up." She looked right at me.
I nodded. I let her help me adjust the mask over my face. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing—in, out, in, out. In diving if you breathed too fast, you could blow your lungs. Now it was just a way to keep from hyperventilating.
She fitted the suit's hood over my head. I watched her do it and knew my eyes were a little too wide.
Wren's cheerful voice came over the radio in the mask. "Breathe normally, Anita."
"I am breathing normally," I said. It sounded odd to be able to talk normally while my own breathing was wheezing, loud and ominous in my ears. With a regulator in, you couldn't talk, though I'd learned you could scream with a regulator clenched between your teeth. Sounds echo like a son of a bitch under water.
With the helmet over the mask, visibility was not the best. I practiced turning my head, seeing just how big the blind spots were. My peripheral vision was almost gone.
Tammy's voice came over the radio. "It's hard to see in this thing."
"You'll get used to it," Tucker said.
"I hope we're not in this get-up long enough to get used to it," I said.
"If we say 'run, run like hell," Tucker said.
"Because the floor will be caving in, right?" I said.
I think she nodded, but it was hard to tell through the layers. "Right."
"Fine, but when we get to the stairs, I have to take the lead, and if I say 'run like hell, it means the vampires are going to eat us."
Wren and Tucker exchanged glances. "You tell us to run," Wren said, "we'll ask how fast."
"Agreed," Tucker said.
"Great," I said. Truthfully, it was a damn relief not to have to argue with anyone. No debate. What a relief. If I hadn't been sweating like a pig, listening to my own breathing echoing horrifically like The Tell-Tale Heart, having to relearn how to walk in metal-lined boots, I'd have said working with the fire department was a break. But it wasn't. I'd have rather rappelled down on ropes with Special Forces into a free-fire zone than shuffle along in the mummy suit trying not to lose it. It was just a phobia, dammit. Nothing was wrong. Nothing was hurting me. My body didn't believe the logic. Phobias are like that. Reason doesn't move them.
Wren stepped onto the floor. It made a noise like a giant groaning in its sleep. He froze, then stomped his feet so hard I thought my pulse was going to spill out my mouth.
"Shouldn't we be quieter?" I asked.
Wren's voice came in my ear. "Walk exactly where I walk. Don't deviate, don't spread out."
"Why?" I asked.
"Just because the floor is solid where I'm walking doesn't mean it's solid anywhere else."
"Oh," I said.
I went right behind Wren, so I got a closeup view of his little stomping dance. It was not comforting. Tucker came behind me, then Detective Reynolds bringing up the rear.
I'd given everybody a cross to put in the pockets of their suits. Why wasn't everyone wearing one like I was? Because Tucker and Wren were carrying a pack of opaque body bags apiece. Plan was to put the vamps in the bags and take them back up. Inside an ambulance in the body bags they'd be safe until nightfall. If we pulled this off and the ceiling didn't collapse before darkness, I was going to be pissed. As long as it didn't fall while we were down here. That I could pass on.
I walked where Wren walked, religiously. Though I did have to say, "Even out of this suit my stride isn't as big as yours. In the suit I'm damned near crippled. Can I take smaller steps?"
"Just as long as the steps are directly in line with mine, yes," Wren said.
Relief. The floor was covered with debris. Nails were everywhere in the blackened boards. I understood the metal insoles now. I was grateful for them, but it didn't make them any easier to walk in.
There was a line to one side going down a hole in the floor. It was a hard suction hose attached to a loud pump some distance away. They were draining the water out of the basement. If the place was watertight, it could be full to the ceiling. Comforting thought.
Fulton had called in a Haz-Mat tanker for the water. He seemed to be treating vampirism like a contagious disease. It was contagious but not in the way he seemed to think. But he was Incident Commander. I was learning that that title equated with God at a fire scene. You couldn't argue with God. You could get mad at him, but it didn't change anything.
I concentrated on moving my feet. Watching for debris. Stepping in Wren's footsteps. I let the world slide away except for moving forward. I was aware of the sun beating down, sweat trickling down my spine, but it was all distant. There was nothing but moving forward, no thinking required. My breathing was normal when I bumped into Wren's back.
I froze, afraid to move. Was something wrong?
"What's up?" I asked.
"Stairs," he said.
Oh, I thought. I was supposed to take the lead now. I wasn't ready. Truthfully, I wasn't sure how good I could walk on stairs in the damn suit. I just hadn't appreciated how hard it would be to walk in it.
"Stairs are the most dangerous part of a building like this," Wren said. "If anything is going to collapse it'll be the stairs."
"Are you trying to make us feel better?" Reynolds asked.
"Just prepared," he said. "I'll test the first few steps. If it seems solid, I'll move back and let Blake take it." He wasn't teasing anymore. He was all business, and we were suddenly on a last-name basis.
"Watch the body on the stairs," he said. He moved onto the first step, stomping hard enough that I jumped.
The body on the stairs was black, charcoaled. The mouth gaped open in a soundless scream. You had to look close to see the fangs. Real vamp fangs just aren't that big. Tendons were stretched naked looking like they'd snap if you touched them. The body looked fragile, as if one touch and it would be dust. I remembered Larry and the skull that had turned to powder at his touch. This body looked tougher than that, but not by much. Could it be alive? Was there some spark inside it that with nightfall it would move, live? I didn't know. It should have been ash. It should still have been burning in the sunlight, no matter how much water they poured on it.