SHELBY CREPT THROUGH the gift shop, looking in wonder at the assortment of clocks. Mantel, wall, and floor clocks. Radio, alarm, and cuckoo, as well as wristwatches and pocket watches. Digital, analog, and some with no hands at all. Sun clocks, hourglasses, pendulum clocks, quartz clocks. A photo-frame clock and a braille clock. Books on the history of time and timepieces. Clock puzzles. Kits for building a Roman-style, or a water clock. Even a binary clock kit.
Only a few of the clocks ticked, but the noise felt ominous.
She forced herself past the rows and tables, tiptoeing to an open office door. Was somebody still here? A single lamp burned on the desk, and Brahms played in the background as though someone had simply gotten up and walked away.
She backed out and returned to the gift shop.
Now what?
As she got closer to the front of the shop, she heard voices, but they faded and grew stronger, echoing through the cavernous area beyond the shop so she couldn’t tell who or where it was coming from. She pushed back the security gate, wincing at the screeching noise. Holding her breath, she strained to hear. Were those footsteps coming closer?
Her heart, already thumping, knocked harder. Or maybe that was her knees. Where could she hide?
She saw the public restrooms ahead of her. Men to the left and women . . . she darted right, pushing open the door and forcing the springs shut again. Pressing her ear to the faint crack, she held her breath and prayed.
“See? There’s nothing here. Losing your nerve, are we?” A woman’s voice; probably Fay.
A man replied. “How can you tell anything in this place with all the noise?”
“Just tune it out, you twat. Anyway, I need to pee. Bugger off.”
Hand at her throat, Shelby backed away from the door, looking frantically around at the three stalls. Which one would Fay use? She darted into the last stall.
Leaving the door ajar, she climbed onto the toilet and perched there so her feet wouldn’t give her away. The bathroom door opened. Shelby bit her lip, breathing as shallowly as possible. One of the stall doors banged shut, something hard and metallic hit the floor, then the sound of water splashing.
She’d set down her assault rifle. If Shelby could sneak out of her stall, she might be able to catch Fay unaware.
And then what? She had only Trevor’s brief instruction on how to hit. And kneeing Fay in the groin would not stop her.
The toilet flushed. Fay picked up her weapon and stepped out of the stall. The bathroom door opened and shut. Shelby let out the breath she’d been holding. She climbed off the toilet and went to the door, listening for several long minutes before cracking it open. No one seemed to be there. She snuck out, ducking back into the gift shop.
She saw another door in the gift shop, just to her left. Maybe a storage room? She tried the handle. It turned easily, so she pushed her way in.
For a moment, the bank of computer screens threw her. Then she understood.
She’d found the security room.
Closing and locking the door behind her, she looked around. Fire extinguisher, breaker box, wastebasket. And, of course, a wall clock above the monitors. She sat in the chair behind a curved table and two rows of monitors. Sixteen cameras. The labels didn’t help much. Room Two East? Room Six South?
Movement on the monitors had her catching her breath. Men walking along the corridors. Max and three men inside a room, dismantling the grandmother clock she recognized from the photo. She felt a rush of relief as she saw Trevor enter one of the empty rooms.
What should she do now? She speared both hands into her hair, dropping her head into her palms. The plan that had seemed plausible in her head now seemed crazy and stupid. She could stay here, or sneak back out and rejoin Lark.
Movement on the monitors caught her eye. She saw one of the Bedlamites, Nathan, with a second man near the exit of Room Four Southwest. In another, West Hallway Two, Trevor flipped open his curved knife. He disappeared from camera view, only to appear seconds later in the room with Nathan and the other man. Hands gripping the desk so tightly her knuckles whitened, Shelby watched as Trevor hit the man in the head.
In horror, she saw Nathan start firing and Trevor crouching as he jumped back into the hallway. And in East Hallway Two, another man opened fire, spraying bullets from his assault weapon. Trevor hit the floor.
“No!”
Had he been shot? Her hand pressed to her chest, she watched anxiously for Trevor to get up. There! He fired his rifle and got to his feet. With Nathan on one side and the guy on the balcony pinning him down, Shelby didn’t see how he could break free.
She needed to help somehow. He was a sitting duck out there in the open. In plain view. She rocketed out of the chair and ran to the breaker box. Wrenching it open, she grabbed the main circuit breaker bar and yanked it down.