“You’re not going to try to break through the floor, are you?” His green eyes glowed in awe at the realization of Creed’s impromptu plan.
“Meg, you’re going to have to step out—I’m going to need room,” Creed glanced at his dark-eyed angel.
She obeyed immediately and turned to Evan. “Do you need help getting the ladder?” she asked, prompting him to move.
“No, I got it!” Evan shook himself before sprinting down the hallway and around the corner and back to the room in which they had destroyed the electrical transformers. He didn’t even notice Sloan on his heels until he was dropping his duffle bag so he had room to squeeze into the small alcove that housed the six-foot ladder. He yanked the old metal ladder off its wall brackets and was maneuvering it in the small space back toward the door. Sloan held it wide for him, worry etched across her beautifully dainty face.
“It’ll be okay, Sloan. Creed and Meg know what they’re doing,” he whispered as he hurried passed her, hoping he wasn’t lying to the girl. She ducked back into the room and came out with Evan’s duffle bag wrapped around her tiny frame. The bag was nearly as big as she was, but she ran with determination to keep up with Evan’s fast pace back to the elevator. They could already hear what Creed was doing. Metal on metal screamed with every solid thwack!
When they rounded the corner they saw Meg standing guard, gun raised and ready as Creed stood in the doorway of the elevator and beat the heck out of the metal floor. He had already removed one of the metal sheets that had been riveted to steel beams beneath. Nothing was stopping the powerful swings of his axe. Within three minutes, Creed had chopped the elevator floor to hell and a gaping three-foot hole was left in his wake.
“Get ready to pass me the ladder,” He said only partially out of breath from his efforts.
He peered into the blackness of the elevator’s shaft.
“I’m guessing it’s about a ten-foot drop,” Meg said aloud as she remembered the approximate height of the basement ceiling from her last excursion down there.
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too.” Creed scowled. “Okay, so I’m going to jump down. Once I’m there, you’ll need to lower the ladder to me so I can set it up. Got it?”
“What if you land on one of the shaft floor pistons below?"
“I'll jump near the corner of the shaft, away from the pistons.”
“Are you sure? You're bleeding." Meg looked worried as she motioned to the fresh blood oozing down his right side causing the black T-shirt to stick against him.
Creed glanced down at his side as though just noticing his gunshot wound compliments of Williams’ spy, Slider/Miro. “I don’t even feel it, but it must have opened up when I used the axe.”
“You switched off your pain,” Meg said matter-of-factly.
“What?” Creed asked then shook his head dismissively. “Never mind. We have work to do.”
With the grace of a panther, he leaped into the jagged-edged hole and disappeared. A second later, they heard his feet land firmly onto the ground far below.
“Are you okay?” Meg was on her hands and knees, trying to see into the musty blackness below.
“Yeah, lower the ladder.”
Together, Evan and Meg slipped the folded ladder feet-first into the blackness as far as their arms could reach lying on their bellies. They felt Creed grasp the weight of the metal frame and take it the rest of the way.
Squeaking sounds echoed softly up the shaft to the sensitive ears of the metahumans still waiting above.
“Okay, Meg,” Creed voice commanded.
He didn’t have to finish his sentence. Meg was already spinning and lowering her legs into the black hole, trusting the ladder to be there to catch her. Her strong hands grasped the jagged metal edge of the elevator’s floor and felt her skin slice just before her feet touched the top of the ladder. Grimacing, she adjusted her grip and used her feet to find the next tier of the ladder before letting go and slowly crouching atop the ladder. Once she started down, she called up to Sloan and Evan. “Be careful not to cut yourself on the jagged edges up there.”
She felt Creed’s strong hands grab her hips and lead her safely to the ground.
Creed smelled Meg’s blood before she could hide her injury. "Okay, whoever is coming next brings the axe," Creed called even as he was ripping off a swatch of his own shirt.
“I’m coming,” Sloan’s small voice echoed down the darkness.
Creed helped her down before tending to Meg’s cut, remaining confident Evan would manage.
“Give me your hand,” he said in the darkness. Meg offered her gouged hand and felt his strong fingers touch her with such gentleness in the pitch dark until he found the torn flesh and felt it oozing blood. He grimaced sympathetically.
“It’s deep,” was all he said before he started wrapping the cotton strip around it tightly to stop the blood loss.
“How did you know I cut myself?” Meg spoke only to distract herself from the pain in her hand.