The Day Will Come (2 page)

There were no chairs in the club, and pushing our way through the standing crowd took some effort. Eventually we made our way to a small clearing at the front of a platform and were able to turn around and scan the faces.

“There,” I said.

Lenny’s red hair again acted as a beacon in the thick smoke, and Lucy waved frantically beside him. I held my hand up to let her know I’d seen her, and tried to figure out the best way to get one level up to where they stood.

I grabbed Nick’s wrist and pulled him toward another set of stairs, only to be stopped by a small woman who stood immobilized, intimidated by the bulky, Harley-shirted men blocking her way.

“Gotta be assertive,” I said in her ear.

She looked up at me.

“Like this.” I stepped toward the men, raising my elbow and my voice. “’Scuse us, guys. Coming through.”

Without a hitch in conversation the men shifted enough we could battle our way past their stomachs, only to find the way closed off by a scantily dressed waitress serving beer.

I leaned back into Nick. “Got your camera?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Too skinny.”

“Boy,” I said. “You sure are picky.”

But of course I was glad.

We’d almost made it to the stairs when Nick jerked to a standstill, yanking me backward.

“What?” I said.

He didn’t answer, so I followed his eyes not to a cocktail waitress but to a couple situated at the front of one of the viewing platforms. The woman stood behind the man, her hands on his shoulders. He sat in a wheelchair, leaning forward onto the railing to peer down on the dance floor. He pointed at something, and the woman bent over to follow his finger.

“Nick?” I shook our clasped hands.

He whipped his head toward me. “What? Oh, sorry. Let’s go.”

We made our way up the stairs and over to the space Lucy and Lenny had carved out in the mass of people.

“Good spot,” I said. We were at the front of our level, the stage in plain view. The crowd below teemed with energy and sound, which looked like fun, but we had a prime spot to see without having to stand on tiptoe.

“We had help,” Lucy said.

She pointed over her shoulder and I saw yet another of my Granger “brothers.”

“Jermaine!” I said. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled, his teeth setting off his dark skin, just like LeRoy, the band’s bass player. “Got a call this morning asking if I could fill in on the security team.” He indicated his Club Independence Security T-shirt. “Guess somebody came down sick and they needed another body. Jordan suggested me and I got the gig.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah. Well, gotta go make sure nobody’s blocking the exits. Have fun.”

He pushed himself away and disappeared into the throng.

“Nick okay?” Lucy yelled in my ear.

We both looked at him, and I shrugged. “Don’t know. But I’ll get him situated.” Pulling on his elbow, I leaned him backward against the railing, where he could get some support before he keeled over onto the dancers below. “You want something to drink?” I asked him.

“Wouldn’t mind some water. This smoke isn’t helping my head any.”

“The smoke’s why I didn’t bring my purse,” Lucy said. “Last time I took it to a concert the cash in my wallet even stank.”

“I’ll see if I can grab a waitress,” I said.

One came by just as the crowd started to roar. The roar faded when everyone saw it was just Jordan, fixing one more cable. “Two waters, please,” I said to the waitress.

“And a Coke,” Lucy added.

The waitress, definitely not too skinny—perhaps even a bit plump for the outfit—took our order and left.

The crowd started to roar again, and this time was rewarded with the appearance of the band. LeRoy and Donny took their places and were joined by another guy who sat behind the drum set.

“Hey,” I said to Nick. “Isn’t that the guy from backstage?”

He shrugged.

“The one who said he was going to wring somebody’s neck,” I said.

Nick shook his head. “I don’t know.”

It was. We’d met the
old
drummer backstage with the band, but not the new, so it made sense this guy would’ve been in the wings.

The crowd erupted into an even louder cheer as Tom Copper made his way on stage, holding one hand up in greeting, the other on the neck of his guitar. He swung his hand down in two exaggerated circles and the band launched into a song. One of their trademark tunes, “River Love,” a favorite of this Philadelphia crowd.

The river rages

The waters flow

Past twinkling lights

The Schuylkill’s show

But tell me baby

Tell me true

Can you feel our love

The way I do?

A laugh bubbled up inside me, and I pumped my fist in the air, the thrill of the bass guitar vibrating my ribs. The song climaxed with Copper’s well-known guitar solo, and dancers on the lower level air-banded along with him, eyes closed in rapture. The song ended with three strong chords, and Copper stepped forward, his face shining with energy.

“Good evening, Philadelphia!” he yelled.

The crowd responded with an even louder cheer.

“It’s always good to play here at home in the City of Brotherly Love!”

Another roar, punctuated with screams and squeals of girls in the front rows.

“You ready for some more music?” Copper asked. “You sure?”

He laughed, and the drummer banged out the first four beats of the next song. The crowd cheered as Genna, the female vocalist, grabbed a microphone and the band launched into yet another Philly favorite, “Lust on Ice.”

The set was over far too soon, the forty minutes flying by in a whirl of sound and lyrics, but Copper promised they’d be back in ten minutes for another round.

“They’re amazing!” Lucy said. Her eyes shone with excitement. “I can’t believe they’re playing at our reception!”

Lenny smirked at me, and I elbowed him. “Good thing you’ve got deep pockets.”

He chuckled. “They ain’t that deep. But deep enough to give my girl a special wedding present like this.”

“What do you think?” I asked Nick. “Like their stuff?”

He smiled. “It’s great.”

I looked at him. “But you feel like crap.”

“Yeah. I think I’ll go try to find a quieter spot for a few minutes. Or at least one with a little less smoke.”

“Good luck with that. Remember they’re starting again soon. You don’t want to miss it.”

“I’ll be back.”

“Want me to get you another water?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

My throat was dry, too, but I figured the waitresses would be busy serving the beer drinkers. I fought my way to the bar at the back of our section and pushed up to the counter. A few minutes later I was back in our spot with Nick’s water and a Coke for me.

“Seems like they should be starting,” I said to Lucy. “Hasn’t it been longer than ten minutes?”

She shrugged. “Don’t know.”

“Come on!” a guy behind us yelled. “We gotta get the baby-sitter home before midnight!”

Lucy grinned. “I guess that’s a yes—they are running behind.”

I looked around, hoping Nick could find his way back to our spot, but didn’t see him anywhere. If I’d had a cell phone I would’ve called him, except it was so loud in there he couldn’t have heard me, anyway.

In another ten minutes the band still hadn’t appeared, and the crowd started rumbling. Jordan and the short blonde girl came on stage to fuss with knobs and cables, but they soon left, and the crowd started chanting: “Tom Copper, Tom Copper, Tom Copper…”

The chant exploded into a cheer when the band members loped on stage, waving and smiling.

“Sorry about the delay, folks,” Copper said. “Just a few bugs in the sound system. But now we’re ready to rock. Are you ready to rock?”

The band dove into a tune in unison with the crowd’s cheer, and led us back into the world of rock and roll. Nick still hadn’t returned, and I hoped he wasn’t collapsed somewhere down below. I was trying to decide whether or not to go find him when the music lurched to a stop. The crowd on the dance floor changed from a mass of rhythm and cheers to a riot of chaos and shouts.

“What’s happening?” Lucy asked.

I squinted down into the crowd, unable to understand any of the voices drifting up to me. I leaned further over the railing and finally heard some clear words, which pierced my brain like the harsh feed from a microphone.

“A bomb!” someone shouted. “They’re going to blow up the building!”

Chapter Two

An elbow dug into my back, and I tipped forward over the railing. I scrabbled for a handhold on one of the iron rungs, but before I could find one someone grabbed the waistband of my jeans and hauled me back up onto the platform.

I squeezed Lenny’s arm in thanks, and kept a hold of it as he moved forward. His other arm encircled Lucy’s waist, a wad of her shirt bunched up in his fist to keep him from losing her. All around us people screamed and pushed, and my fear of being trampled was close to overcoming my fear of being blown up. I pulled on Lenny’s elbow, and he glanced back at me.

“Do you see Nick?” I yelled.

A head above most people around us, Lenny took a quick look around.

“Nope,” he shouted back.

I gritted my teeth, my chest tight. Lenny and Lucy both watched me, waiting.

“I guess let’s go,” I finally said.

We allowed ourselves to be swept into the crowd, Lenny guarding Lucy from falling under panicked feet or into drunken paths. I held my own behind him, taking what protection I could from his back and my elbows. A few steps further on we reached a standstill, and my face smashed into Lenny’s back as the crowd behind me kept moving forward. A surge of claustrophobia struck me and I took a few deep but shaky breaths with my eyes closed.

“What’s happening?” I yelled when my dizziness cleared.

“Can’t tell,” Lenny shouted over his shoulder. “Something’s causing a bottleneck.”

A man to the side of me began climbing over a group of people in front of him, his eyes wild. The crowd threw him to the side, and he went flying, knocking over several others.

Lenny stiffened, and I fell forward as he lunged ahead. My hand still had a death grip on his arm, so I went with him.

We fought through the crowd toward the top of the stairs, where a man in a wheelchair blocked the opening, a woman hanging onto the chair’s handles, trying to keep the chair from plummeting down the stairs. The man clenched the stair’s railing, his knuckles white from the strain. It was the same couple Nick and I had seen earlier, although this time they weren’t enjoying the view. People stepped over the man, using the chair as a footstool, while some screamed obscenities at him for blocking the path. It was obvious to me he had no chance of getting out of the way, or even moving.

Lenny pushed ahead, and when he reached the man he shoved his way in front of the chair, grabbing the man around his waist and heaving him over his shoulder. Lucy took the woman’s arm while I got the chair and tried to push it to the side.

“Over here!” a man yelled. He was about Lenny’s size, and between the two of us we got the chair above our heads. “We can throw it over the rest of these folks!”

“Count of three,” I yelled back.

He counted and we pushed, heaving the chair over the crowd. I heard the chair crash and hoped we’d cleared the people.

The man nodded and we were swept along with the tide rushing down the stairs. I had no chance to look again for Nick, and had completely lost Lenny and Lucy in the throng.

The lobby wasn’t as chaotic as I expected, with security staff strategically placed and shouting directions toward the outside doors. The exit signs shined brightly, and we headed toward them as a herd of cows rush toward their evening feeding.

A final burst of panic sent my pack of concert-goers through the front doors into the night, and the cold breeze blew a surge of energy into my bones. I scrambled away, not stopping until I’d cleared the crowd, which reached out into South Street and down the sidewalk. Cop cars were parked haphazardly on the sidewalk, lights flashing on the surrounding buildings. Police officers, firefighters, and various others attempted to funnel the crowd down the street, probably toward that parking lot Fred the beer drinker had steered the Hogs toward before the concert. Anywhere to get us away from the building in case it really was going to blow.

Some people huddled together, their fear turning toward excitement at the thrill of the threat. I wasn’t there yet.

I scanned the crowd, trying to spot Nick or Lenny’s red hair, but between the flashing lights, milling crowd, and darkness I became disoriented.

“Please move along, ma’am,” an officer said crisply. His uniform was pressed and clean, and he looked about the age of Zach, my fourteen-year-old farm helper.

“I’m looking for my friends,” I said.

“We’re sending everyone down the street to the parking lot. You can rendezvous with them there.”

Rendezvous. Great.

“My friend’s sick, and he’s trapped in there.”

“We’ll find him, ma’am. We’ve got technicians and officers headed in as we speak.”

I couldn’t claim I was either of those, and seeing how he looked ready to nudge me on down the road, I turned away.

The wind whipped around me again, making me shiver, so I zipped up my coat and crossed my arms over my chest as I trudged down the street with the straggly group. I kept my head up and my eyes moving in case I saw Nick, but had no luck. I hated leaving him behind, but knew that sharp-eyed cop would catch me if I tried to sneak back.

The parking lot was full of cars and displaced concert-goers, and several car alarms shrieked, most likely from being bumped by someone trying to find a place to stand. I walked as quickly as I could through the lot, hoping for a glimpse of a familiar face. I was rounding a corner when a large woman barreled into me, sending me onto the seat of a Fat Boy.

“Whoa, watch it, sister.” A man in a leather skull cap hustled up to the bike. The same guy who’d stopped to ask Fred where to park before the concert.

I pushed myself off the bike and rubbed my side where I’d smacked the crash bar. “Sorry. Got shoved.”

He didn’t answer, but fussed over the bike like I’d gone after it with a mallet.

“Look okay?” I asked.

He started, apparently forgetting about me already. “Yeah. Yeah, everything looks fine.”

“Good. Hey, you haven’t seen a guy, real big, lots of red hair?”

He shook his head. “You lose your people?”

“Got separated in the club. Can’t find them out here.”

“Hmm.” He pursed his lips and studied me, taking in my leather jacket and motorcycle boots. I guess I passed the test, because he shouted, “Hey, Loader!”

A man about the width of the Fat Boy waddled over to skull cap man. His expression was flat, his eyes dull.

“This here lady lost her folks,” the guy in the skull cap said. “Give her a hand up to look around, will you?”

Loader nodded, revealing no thoughts or feelings about the request, and knelt on the ground. I looked at him, then back at the first guy.

“Well, go ahead,” Skull Cap said. “Climb on.”

“You’re kidding.”

“You want to find your friends or not? He won’t drop you.”

I wasn’t worried about being dropped. I was worried about being creeped out. But how else was I going to find anyone in this chaos?

“Well. Okay.” I swung my leg over Loader’s shoulder and he pushed himself up, like a camel. Suddenly I had a new view of the parking lot, and a slew of people peering up at me, surprise on their faces.

“Any luck?” Skull Cap asked.

“Not yet.”

“Go ahead, Loader. Give her a ride.”

“I don’t—” I began, but was cut off when my steed began to move.

Slowly we made our way forward, the crowd parting like the Red Sea before us. It was too dark to see well, and I found myself blinking often to keep my vision clear. If I hadn’t been so worried about Nick I would’ve been much more concerned with people seeing me up there. As it was, I had to make use of my resources.

“Stella?”

I swung around at the call of my name, Loader fortunately so well-grounded there was no fear of tipping over.

Lenny looked up at me, amusement in his eyes.

Lucy stood beside him giggling, her hands on her hips. “What in the name of Pete are you doing up there?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” I held up my hands, not quite sure how to communicate with Loader, who had yet to say a word, or even grunt. I patted him on the head. “Uh, Loader? Can I get down?”

He knelt, allowing me to slip off his shoulders.

“Thank you for the…um…ride.”

He nodded, his face as blank as before, and turned to go, on-lookers scurrying out of his path.

“Where did you find
that?
” Lenny asked.

I waved off his question. “Any sign of Nick?”

Lucy shook her head, concern in her eyes. “We’ve been looking. For both of you.”

I surveyed the area. We stood next to Lucy’s Civic, about twenty feet from a streetlight and a tree with a dead limb sticking out the top. “You guys going to stay right here?”

Lucy shrugged. “Don’t know where else we’d go. They’re not letting anybody leave.”

“Not that we could get out if we tried,” Lenny said.

“Then I’m going to hunt around for Nick.”

“Shouldn’t have let your bulldozer take off,” Lenny said.

“His name was Loader, not Dozer. Anyway, I could get up on you.”

Lenny winced. “Normally I’d do it, but I wrenched my back something good carrying Norm out of the building.”

“Norm?”

Lenny and Lucy glanced behind them to Lucy’s car, where the man from the wheelchair was sitting, the woman beside him.

“Oh. Norm. He okay?”

Lucy nodded. “Just scared. And exhausted.”

As he had a right to be. “Okay, I’ll be back.”

I headed away, searching the faces for Nick’s, but couldn’t find anyone who even approached his clean shaven state. Shaved heads, sure, but most faces were covered with beards or week-old scruff. Harley T-shirts, flyaway hair, round beer bellies. They were all there. But no movie star blonds in clean jeans.

When I’d made a full circle and reached the entrance to the parking lot I spotted several ambulances with paramedics treating those injured in the rush out of the building. It was at the third one of these I found Nick, sitting on the back ledge of the vehicle. I bee-lined a path to him, stopping only when I could reach out and put a hand on his shoulder.

He blinked slowly and looked up at me, his eyes glassy.

“Nick? What’s wrong?”

“Can’t find anything wrong, ma’am,” the paramedic said. “I pulled him out of the crowd because he looked dazed, but his vitals are fine, and he says he wasn’t bumped on the head.”

“He’s been weird like this all night.” I squeezed Nick’s shoulder. “Haven’t you, Nick?”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m just so tired.”

A man with a B.B. King T-shirt strode up to the ambulance, a woman in his arms. “Help me out here? She’s got a nasty cut on her leg.”

Blood seeped through the denim around the woman’s calf, and I winced.

“We should go,” Nick said. “I’m in the way.”

“Hang on,” the paramedic said. “I’ve got room for her over here. You wait till you feel ready before you get up. Don’t want you passing out. I’d just have to help you all over again.” He smiled to soften his words, but the look he gave me said to keep Nick on his butt for a few more minutes.

I leaned against the side of the ambulance. “Stay put, Nick. We’ll just hang here for a bit.”

So we watched the people go by, some still panicked, some laughing—whether from nervousness or drunkenness I wasn’t sure—and some peeling off from the crowd to visit one of the ambulances.

The man in the B.B. King shirt came back several times, in each instance carrying or leading one of the injured to an ambulance. His manner was so professional and efficient I figured he must’ve been an off-duty cop or firefighter. He was dropping off a woman at the ambulance next to us when another man ran up to him.

“You seen Bobby?” the man asked, his voice reaching us ten feet away.

The guy shook his head. “Huh-uh. He missing?”

“I can’t find him anywhere.”

The B.B. King guy made sure the woman was in the hands of a paramedic before taking off back toward the club with the man.

“You know who that was?” I asked Nick. “He looked familiar.”

“We’ve seen him bringing people to the ambulances.”

“No, not the B.B. King guy. The other one, who just ran up.”

“Oh.” His forehead crinkled. “I guess his face did look—”

“We saw him tonight, didn’t we? At the club?”

His face cleared. “Backstage. He was coming in when we were going out.”

I smacked the ambulance. “The owner. Jordan told us his name, but I forget it.”

“Well, I sure don’t remember.”

A couple struggled up to the ambulance, the man leaning on the woman for support. Nick hopped off the ledge to make room, and I grabbed his arm. “You sure you’re all right?”

“I’m not limping or anything, like that guy. Let’s go.”

We’d gotten about twenty feet away when a cop stepped into our path, a pad and pencil in his hands. “You folks at Club Independence tonight?”

Why else would we be in that parking lot? “Yessir, we were,” I said.

“Anybody else talk to you tonight? Cops, I mean? Since the evacuation?”

“Nope.”

Nick shook his head.

“Can you tell me what happened?” the cop asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. We heard there was a bomb.”

He tried again. “I mean what happened with you. We’re taking care of the other stuff.”

“Oh, well, I was on the second level platform when the music stopped. Somebody yelled up to us that there was a bomb, and we all started clearing out. It seemed like chaos, but I guess most of us got out okay.”

“No casualties that we’re aware of,” the cop said, pride coloring his voice. “And we’re pretty sure everyone’s out.”

“Impressive.” I jutted my chin at Nick. “He was somewhere else.”

The cop turned to Nick. “Sir?”

“The bathroom on the lower level. It wasn’t till I was making my way back up that I ran into mobs of people trying to get out.”

He scribbled on his pad. “And neither of you heard anything else about the bomb? Or saw anything suspicious?”

We shook our heads.

“Can I get your names and addresses, please? For follow-up?”

We gave him what he wanted, and he moved on to the next clump of folks.

I looked above our heads and pointed toward the tree with the dead limb. “That’s where we’re headed. Lucy and Lenny are parked under there.”