Chapter 2
We take off running, following Destiny’s voice.
We cut between two buildings and come out on the next street. Here, we see more fire-hollowed structures. No obvious sign of Destiny.
We’re yelling her name and “Where are you?” But she’s not answering. Gabby tries calling her. Straight to voicemail.
“She couldn’t have gone far,” said Ahmed. “Where’s the spot where she crossed over? Back there, right? So let’s check the buildings closest to that spot.”
Something I didn’t know about Ahmed until this moment: he’s good in a crisis.
“We stay together, though,” I insist.
“Agreed,” says Gabby. Then she starts shouting “Destiny!” again.
We go from building shell to building shell. These buildings are more modern than the ones on Main Street. But they’re in even worse shape. In the fourth place we check, there’s a massive hole in the middle of the floor.
“Destiny?” I call out like it’s a question. I can’t make myself go near the hole. This was all my idea. If she’s hurt, it’s my fault. Gabby steps up to the hole and peers in. Shakes her head. “Nothing down there except bits of the floor that fell in.”
“Hold on. Something has to be down there,” says Ahmed. “Or the floor wouldn’t have caved in. It wouldn’t have had anything to cave in on.”
Gabby looks back down into the hole. “Yeah, well, I guess it’s some kind of basement. But it’s empty. She’s not there.”
I finally work up the guts to crouch down next to the hole and look in. Gabby’s right. Except . . .
Among the fragments of plaster flooring, I spot a tiny glimmer of silver.
“Her bracelet’s down there,” I say. “Her charm bracelet.” My voice comes out scratchy and deep.
Gabby swears softly. She dials her phone again. Under her breath she mutters, “Come on, come on, pick up . . .”
“Maybe we should call 9-1-1,” says Ahmed.
I have a different idea. I sit down and let my legs hang over the edge of the hole.
Gabby lowers her phone. “What are you—”
“Alex,” says Ahmed. “No. No way, man.”
“That basement is bigger than what we can see through the hole,” I say. “She could be down there, out of our line of sight. She could be unconscious.”
“Can we not assume the worst?” Gabby says. “She might be fine.”
Then why isn’t she answering her phone? Why didn’t she respond when we shouted her name? I don’t insult Gabby by saying any of that. I just go with, “We have to check.”
“You are not going down there,” Ahmed says sternly.
“It can’t be much more than a ten-foot drop from here,” I say. Like that’s not far enough to break any bones if I land wrong.
“And how are you planning to get back up?” demands Ahmed. “We don’t have a rope.”
“I bet you could find a pole or a metal bar or something,” I say. “Or I guess you could call 9-1-1 at that point.” If I find Destiny down there, injured, he’ll have to do that anyway.
Before either of them can stop me, I drop down. It’s not the smartest way to go. I could’ve faced the other way and lowered myself more slowly, dangled by my hands. But I’m in a hurry.
I land hard but not too hard. I snatch up Destiny’s bracelet and look around. It’s dark. I pull out my phone and shine it in front of me, first on the ground. I’m holding my breath, terrified I’ll see Destiny’s crumpled body on the floor. I don’t. For a second I’m relieved. Until I think, But if she’s not here, where . . . ?
That’s when I see it.
“What?” asks Gabby. She and Ahmed are down on their knees, leaning over the edge of the hole.
“There’s an opening in the wall down here. It looks like . . .”
I take a few steps closer. Shine my phone light into the darkness. Yeah. Definitely.
“Looks like what?” barks Gabby.
“A tunnel.”