Vanished (27 page)

Time ticking, bomb ticking, eleven minutes before two as he
neared the church. A knot of men stood on the sidewalk.

"I need help! Help! Someone help!" Logan yelled.

But they didn't hear him because they were packed together
like coyotes, shrieking at some poor soul.

"Leave him alone!" Kaya cried, but one man wrapped Ben in a
headlock so another could punch him.

She flung people out of the way with superhuman strength,
screaming, "Stop it! Why are you doing this?"

"He's the kid who did the bombing," said the puncher.

Kaya ripped Ben away from the man who held him, resisting
the urge to slam the brute's head into the pavement, though in
this moment she had the strength to do it.

Ben collapsed against her. "I didn't mean it," he said. "I just
went for a walk with jasmine."

"Shush. Don't talk." She glared at the men. "What is wrong
with you? He's only a kid."

Ben spit blood, both eyes already blacking. "Sergeant Logan
needs help."

"He's lying," a kid yelled out. "We saw him go into the Circle,
come back out, and tell people to get away. And then we heard
he was the one who carried it."

Kaya had to get Ben away from here.

The puncher-a guy with a blond buzz cut and reddish
goatee-blocked her way. "You're not going anywhere."

"Oh, yes, I am. Get out of my way."

"Sergeant Logan," Ben sputtered. "Someone has to go to
Tapley and help him."

"Why, honey?" Kaya said.

"There's another bomb."

The crowd imploded on them, pulling at Ben so violently
that she fell with him. She covered him with her body, took
blows and kicks meant for him.

A shot rang out.

"Back off," Jason Logan yelled. "Now!"

The puncher waved his fist. "This kid's the bomber."

"He's working with me. Now back off or I'll shoot the
whole lot of you."

The men stepped away, glaring poison at Ben.

Kaya helped him to his feet. "We've got to get inside so I can
look at those injuries."

Logan yanked her around. "No time," he whispered. "We
need to evacuate the church."

"The bomb," Ben sputtered. "It's in the church."

"Jason ... it's too much ... I can't." How could she when she
couldn't even catch her breath back?

"Yes, you can. Get your volunteers moving; take the injured
out. Move them at least half a block away. I'll go upstairs,
clear out the sanctuary. We have eight minutes, Kaya. Move
it-please go!"

Kaya helped Ben around to the back of the church. Leah
stood in the sidewalk, made sure no one followed them.

"Mom, they're gonna kill me," he said. "As soon as Logan's
not around, they'll get me."

She wanted to tell him that was ridiculous, but she knew he
was right. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah"

"Remember that place on the Ledges we used to picnic? Can
you get up there?"

"I think, yeah. I'm fine."

"Go there and wait for me. As soon as I help evacuate the
injured, I'll come get you."

"Mom, come with me."

She hated the thought of sending him away, especially as
battered as he was. But she couldn't leave all these injured
people to the fury of a bomb. "Honey, I can't right now. Do you
understand why?"

Ben met her gaze, something shifting in his so that she knew she was witnessing a miracle in this time of terror-her son had
just gone from boy to man.

"I do understand," he said.

Kaya kissed him. "I love you. Now go."

Holding his side, he ran through the lilac bushes behind the
church. Beyond the dirt lot and overgrown brush lay the path
up to the Ledges.

Ben would be safe there.

HE SANCTUARY OF GRACE COMMUNITY CHURCH WAS
standing room only. The pews were packed, the side
and center aisles jammed.

As Logan ran up to the pulpit, applause broke out. He shook
his head, waved them quiet. "We need to evacuate this building
immediately."

"Why?" A weary-faced woman struggled to hold on to her
twin toddlers.

A bald man with a beer gut yelled out, "Another bomb?"

"Just a precaution. Start with the back rows, one row at a
time. We'll have enough time if we're orderly."

"Is it OK if we get the children out first, Sergeant?" This
from Dorothy, the woman who volunteered to help get cars
moved this morning.

"It's got to be a bomb," someone yelled, and the panic started.
A tsunami of people, trying to push into the crowded aisles.
Children were separated from their mothers or lost underfoot,
the elderly crushed against walls or pews.

"We can go out through the basement," the bald man said.

Logan fired three shots into the ceiling. "No one goes through
the basement. We're evacuating the injured that way. You will
go out the front. Back rows first and orderly. And if you're ablebodied, I expect you to assist the elderly and children."

"Stupid pig, you got us into this in the first place," an overthe-hill hippie yelled. "Everyone just get out."

"Hey!" Logan trained his gun on the front entrance. "Back
rows, move out, a steady pace. I will shoot the next person who
pushes out of turn."

"You're not gonna shoot anyone." The bald guy pushed
by an elderly couple and headed for the door that led downstairs.

Crack! Chunks of plaster rained down from the ceiling onto
the bald man.

Pappas stood on top of the piano, glaring. His arm was
bandaged and resplinted. "Maybe he won't, but I will. And the
next shot isn't into the ceiling, trust me. Any takers?"

A stunned silence took hold of the crowd.

"Let's do this in an orderly way now. Pass the babies and kids
over the tops of the pews. Let's go, folks." Logan moved into
the center aisle and met Hal Monroe moving against the tide
of people.

"What do you need, Sarge?"

"Stand at the door, make sure they don't stampede."

Hilary pushed by Pappas, coming up from the basement.
"Jae. Jae!"

"Not now, Hil." Logan was the stopgap keeping people from
pushing too hard. If one went down, more would and there'd
be casualties.

Hilary climbed over pews to get to him. "I can't find
Kimmie."

"She's up at Walden. That's what you said."

"I went up there, Jae. Marita left me a note, said she was
scared because she was all alone. So she brought Kimmie here.
She went to the bathroom downstairs and just disappeared."

Logan went cold into his bones.

"You have to find her!" Hilary shrieked. "Why aren't you
looking for her?"

"We've got to get these people out or we won't be able to
find her."

Hilary slapped him across the face. "This is why I couldn't
stay married to you. I knew I always came last. But your little
girl?"

"Go look for her," Pappas said. "I'll keep these people
moving."

"Thanks, man. And keep your eye out. She's blonde, blueeyed, only five."
"

"I will, I will." He lowered his voice. "How much time do
we have?"

Logan flashed five fingers, and then followed Hilary down
the back stairs. He was dismayed to see how slowly the evacuation of the injured was going. Only half had been moved out of
the fellowship hall.

"Kaya, you can't move everyone. You've gotta triage," he
shouted.

She looked up from an elderly patient. "Jason, your little girl
is here. But I don't know where."

I know. You've got to choose who to save and then get out."

"I can't."

"You have to, Kaya. You're too important to all of us."

"Jae!" Hilary screamed. "You're wasting time."

Logan broke off to search the utility room and storage closet.
Hilary and Marita went through the classrooms.

Four minutes left. He crossed the fellowship hall and found
Hilary in a classroom. "Time's short. You go out. I'll keep
looking."

"She's my daughter, too."

"And what if she's outside trying to get in? Get out, search
the crowd!"

Logan dashed upstairs, found Pappas sending people out the
windows now-still too many to get out the door. The tick-tock
pressed in on him and he looked around, wondering if everyone
could hear it.

Time ticking, bomb ticking, and the church too big to
search for a child who was not in plain sight. Pastor's study,
main office, music room, maintenance closet, upstairs kitchen,
balcony, and upper classrooms-where should he go next?

"Kimmie," he bellowed but tick-tock answered him, so
insanely loud that it battered his eardrums. So ridiculously loud
that suddenly Logan understood.

He ran up to the balcony, took a narrow stairway into the
steeple to the sound-system room. Climbed the ladder into the
clock tower, a bizarre place of giant gears for the bell and the
guts of the clock.

In the corner-a pink strap.

Logan opened the backpack and saw a sophisticated plastique explosive device on a windup timer, one minute and
twelve seconds away from detonation. What looked like trip
wires meant if he yanked the timer or tried to reset the time,
the bomb would blow immediately.

Even if he wrapped his body around the bomb, the steeple
would bring the roof down-on Kimmie and Hilary and Kaya,
Pappas and Hal, too many people and God, I'm just one man.

Time unbearably ticked on.

Logan took one second to kick out the front clock face.
Counting as he worked-two more to climb out onto the
steeple. People everywhere below. If he tossed the bomb, he'd
kill twenty or thirty, maybe more.

It took five seconds to go back into the sound system room
and grab the rope ladder that served as a fire escape. More time
to sling the backpack over his shoulder and drop the rope.

Tell people to move and just drop it? No, they'd stampede,
and there were too many toddlers and infants down there.
And it still might take down the church, with Kimmie somewhere in it.

Twenty seconds coming down the rope to the ground. A half
a minute now, counting off the ticks-twenty-eight, twentyseven, as Logan ran west toward the Circle.

Fifteen seconds, fourteen, thirteen as he scrambled up the
embankment and onto the bike path.

Sprinting straight for the fire. Ten, nine, eight, seven-

-three, two seconds left when Logan heaved the backpack.

Only then did he spot Kimmie, gazing into the fire.

One last second while he grabbed his baby and then dived with
her into the mist because it was the only cover he could find.

HE WORLD EXPLODED.

Kaya held Natasha, running from sanctuary to find
sanctuary, but none could be found, not with the air
hissing and the ground shaking and the sky ripping-

-the store buckled, throwing Alexis off her feet so she
could only watch as the pipes over her head stretched thin,
like a balloon before bursting, but she could only pray they
wouldn't because they were all that stood between her kids and
the beast-

-the street rippled and cracked, and Luther thought, What
a glorious, horrific thing have we wrought-