Sullivan's Law by Nancy Taylor Rosenberg Page B

was being booked at the county jail.” He dropped down in the chair, his face twisted in bitterness. “What difference does it make if I was guilty or innocent? I’ve already served my time.”
    Carolyn realized that most people would have trouble comprehending the complexities of the criminal justice system. “Your sentence was twelve years to life. As long as you’re breathing, they can send you back to prison.”
    The shrill ring of the phone startled her. When he walked over to the nightstand to answer it, Carolyn’s instincts kicked in. Her eyes swept across the room. She saw wires running along the top of the ceiling. Two FBI agents had been killed recently when they’d walked inside a booby-trapped room. “Don’t answer it.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œWho did you give this phone number to?”
    â€œOnly you,” he said, picking up the receiver. “It’s probably a wrong number.”
    Carolyn snatched the phone out of his hand, dropping to the floor beside the nightstand. In addition to the standard phone cord, there was another thick black wire similar to the ones on the ceiling. She wondered briefly if it was a cable for a modem. Whatever it was, she wasn’t going to wait around to find out.
    â€œWe have to get out of here!” she told him, grabbing a handful of his shirt as she frantically tried to get him to follow her. “Hurry! This may be a trap. The call was to make certain you were here.”
    â€œMy papers,” Daniel said, reaching back for them.
    â€œCome now, we can’t waste time,” Carolyn yelled, halfway through the doorway.
    They got a few feet down the corridor before they heard the explosion. An enormous ball of fire burst through the hotel window. Both Carolyn and Metroix were hurled to the ground. The concrete walkway was swaying as it would during an earthquake. “Are you hurt?” Carolyn shouted, coughing from the smoke.
    â€œI don’t think so,” Daniel said, looking back in the direction of the room.
    â€œWe have to get down the stairs before the building collapses. Here,” she said, ripping off a piece of her cotton blouse with her teeth and handing it to him, “put this over your mouth and nose. Don’t stand up. Stay as close to the ground as possible.”
    As shards of glass and pillars of smoke flew through the air, Carolyn and Daniel crawled as fast as they could in the direction of the stairwell. The smoke became so thick that she couldn’t see. Her arms and knees were scraped and bloody. She heard him coughing and gasping behind her. Another explosion occurred, and Carolyn was terrified that the concrete walkway on the third floor would come crashing down on top of them.
    Off in the distance, she could hear the sirens. They couldn’t wait to be rescued. Finally, she found it. By extending her right arm and patting the ground as she crawled, Carolyn felt the first step at the top of the stairs. She reached behind her and grabbed his hand. “Turn around,” she yelled. “We have to go down the stairs backwards.”
    â€œI…can’t…breathe,” Daniel said, flopping over onto his back.
    Carolyn straddled him, lifting his arm and letting it drop in an attempt to find out if he was unconscious. She used her fingers to open his mouth, then sucked in as much air as her lungs could hold, trying desperately not to cough. If she succumbed to smoke inhalation, they would both die. Pinching his nose closed, she sealed her mouth on Daniel’s and began ventilating. When he didn’t respond, she jerked her head in the direction of the stairs. John and Rebecca’s faces flashed in her mind. Her children needed her. What good would it serve if they both died?
    She had to decide.
    Carolyn sucked in another breath and exhaled into Daniel’s mouth. She was lightheaded from lack of oxygen, and her eyes were watering profusely. As soon as she