Free Countdown by Susan Rogers Cooper Page B

own. It lifted the shotgun up and then he pulled the trigger. Paula went down.
    The decision had been made for Mike Reynolds to reprise his role as waiter and go to suite 214 with the message about the storm. He had just stepped out of the elevator when he heard the gunshot. He froze, only for a moment, then, dropping the tray of desserts, pulled out his gun and ran to the door of suite 214. Both Dalton and Anthony had left their rooms and were close behind Mike. Mike hit the door with the heel of his boot and charged inside.
    Marge Blanton was standing, leaning against the wall right next to the door to suite 214. When it crashed open and she saw the waiter with his gun drawn Marge screamed, then used the pistol in her hand to knock him out.
    Johnny Mac didn’t know what had hit him. All he knew was that he’d lost his flashlight again. He tried to sit up, but all he got for his efforts was a wet face. He reached out and touched fur.
    ‘Stop!’ he said between licks. ‘Enough!’
    The dog said, ‘Woof!’
    Johnny Mac stood up, again saw his flashlight shining against a tree trunk and went to pick it up.
    ‘What’s goin’ on?’ Cody’s voice asked.
    ‘I think that dog we were looking for found us,’ Johnny Mac said. ‘Looks like a cross between a golden retriever and a Shetland pony?’
    ‘Yeah, that’s him,’ Cody confirmed.
    The dog headed in the direction of Cody’s voice and began licking the fingers sticking out from the debris. ‘Hey, boy,’ Cody said. ‘Good boy!’
    Johnny Mac pulled the dog away from the debris. ‘If you wanna help,’ he told the animal, ‘get some of this stuff off him.’
    The dog cocked his head, as if listening but not fully comprehending. Johnny Mac began pulling smaller tree limbs and assorted stuff off Cody. All this dog needed was a little show and tell. He reached down with his mouth and pulled up a bigger branch, moving it away from the trapped boy.
    ‘Good dog!’ Johnny Mac said, rubbing the dog’s fur. ‘You’re one smart cookie!’
    Grinning at the compliment, the dog grabbed another branch while Johnny Mac continued his work. Finally they got to the real problem: a tree limb about a foot in diameter and about two Johnny Macs long was across Cody’s legs.
    ‘Can you wiggle your toes?’ Johnny Mac asked Cody, remembering his mother the doctor asking him the same thing when he fell out of that tree one time.
    Cody said, ‘Did they move?’
    Johnny Mac didn’t have the heart to tell him that his toes hadn’t moved one bit. ‘We’re gonna get this off you now,’ he told Cody. Turning to the dog, he said, ‘You take this side and I’ll take the other. Let’s roll it off of him.’
    The golden retriever/Shetland seemed to understand and began using his snout to roll the large branch off, with Johnny Mac rolling the other end. The fact that Cody didn’t scream from pain kinda worried Johnny Mac. They got it off and Johnny Mac almost cried out at the sight of Cody’s legs, but caught himself in time. One was really smashed and all bloody, with a bone sticking out. The other was bloody too, but maybe just from scrapes? Johnny Mac hoped so. But how was he gonna get this kid outta here? He couldn’t lift him. Cody was short, but stocky. First things first, Johnny Mac thought. He took off his shirt and began to wrap it round the broken leg.

FIVE
    A nthony, still unseen by anyone in the hostage suite, grabbed Dalton before he could rush in. Both the old lady and her daughter had guns trained on the hostages. Anthony figured that if he and Dalton went rushing in there with their guns drawn there would more than likely be a blood bath. He put his hand over Dalton’s mouth and dragged him back to suite 212 where Anthony had been stationed. He shoved Dalton as best he could – Dalton being as big as he was and all – into the suite and shut the door behind the two of them.
    ‘What’d you do that for?’ Dalton demanded.
    ‘Shhh!’ Anthony said, pointing