Nine

The room that felt so big and luxurious before feels smaller and smaller by the second. Trip and Seph, while they both look concerned, don’t really have anything to worry about. They could deny wanting to come along. They could say we fell through the ceiling, and they didn’t know what to do or something. But Clara, Ruthie, and I are completely screwed. First, I let Mom and Noah down, and now this. I’m such a failure. I have no idea what I did to get in here, and now by the looks of things, I’ll never get out.

No. There has to be a way.

With my hands pressed over my ears, I yell, “Is there any other way out of here?”

Clara looks like she’s about to puke, and Ruthie’s pale—scared shitless, no doubt.

Trip leans toward me. “There’s a window in the bathroom, but it doesn’t open.”

I grab the heaviest-looking thing in the room—the video gaming system. “Well then let’s make it open.”

They all follow as I rush into the bathroom. Everything about it matches the space I just came from. Sparkling clean—it even smells good—double sinks, separate toilets, and a huge mirror. A real one, not some crappy piece of metal. I avert my eyes from my reflection. There are some things that are better off not knowing.

Thankfully, like Trip said, above the large, clean, white marble-looking bathtub is a long, narrow window. It isn’t much, but it’s bigger than the one that was above my bed, and it isn’t as high. Unfortunately, all that can be seen through said window is a narrow space with a concrete wall that opens to blue above.

Alarms are still blaring as I heave the game system at the glass. It flies through the air on a direct course then starts to sink the farther it travels. By the time it hits the window it only clips the bottom of it. The glass doesn’t shatter. But the game system does. It’s like shrapnel ricocheting back at us. A piece catches me in the arm as I lift it to block my face. It lodges itself inside my triceps and stings like a mother. But I can’t deal with it now. I still need to get out. Shit. Why didn’t I have someone stronger or taller than me throw it?

Seph barrels into the bathroom as the last pieces of the now-trashed system hit the floor. “That isn’t going to work.”

“No shit.” I’m not sure who all says it with me, but there are multiple voices.

He opens the cabinet under the sink, wraps a white towel around his elbow, and slams it into the same spot I threw the worthless thing. I was wrong. It didn’t do nothing. It cracked the window just a little. With Seph ramming his bulging-biceps arm into it over and over, the glass finally breaks, some of it tumbling into the tub. He takes the towel from around his arm and lays it all the way across the length of the window. I have no idea why he’s helping us, but I’m not about to start asking questions now, or start thinking how sparkling his eyes look in this light.

Everyone scatters to get through. Trip first, then Clara. Being the tallest, they have it the easiest and don’t need any help. Using my hands as a step, I lift Ruthie so she’s high enough for someone on the other side to pull her through.

Now it’s my turn. I grab the bottom edge of the window, pieces of jagged glass poking through, and glance back. “Thanks.” My eyes connect to Seph’s for the briefest of seconds, and I suck in a sharp breath before turning to make my jump through the opening. But as quick as the alarm started, it stops. My heart stops right along with it. Someone comes through the door, firing a weapon. This WALTER looks like the AIRS that took Ruthie. Menacing, merciless. If I were to guess, his bullets are set to kill, not stun, but I’m not sticking around to find out.

Seph jumps through the window, and I follow, clipping the side of my head with the heel of his shoe. I lose my grip and start to fall backward. He grabs me before I go flailing and yanks me through. That AIRS is way too big to follow, but that doesn’t mean we’re in the clear. Arms reach down from the top of the concrete barrier, and I don’t hesitate to grab hold and allow them to lift me up. Seph right behind me.

Except, I thought this was it. That we’d be outside—not exactly free and clear or anything, but we’d be a step closer—except I’m wrong. Very, very wrong. The blue above is just some kind of ceiling affect that makes it look like the sky, and we’re in nothing but your average hallway lined with doors that don’t seem to open. Trip, Clara, and Ruthie race from one to the next, pounding on the glass panels next to them with their fists.

Another shot blasts behind me. “We have to go!” I yell and run with the others down the narrow stretch of corridor and around the corner. This hall looks exactly like the last one, and occasionally one of us tries to open one of the locked doors along the way, but without any luck. We all keep on sprinting. Down a long stretch and around another corner, and it feels like déjà vu. Or more like we’re running in circles. Nothing changes. The walls are still all gray. The doors are all dark blue. The concrete floors are just concrete with the same pattern of cracks running through them.

I’m not sure who stops first, but we’re all trying to catch our breath, and the air is scorching. Hotter than it was back in that ventilation tube. I roll up my sleeves, showing off all the tattoos on my arms. Everyone but Clara takes a hard look, probably because she’s used to seeing them. Skeletons, eerie trees, sinister animals, and even a few disgusting spiders cover every inch. There isn’t a single one that stands out as something I would pick for myself, but I’m too hot to care. Now that we’ve stopped, I notice none of us came out of that unscathed. Trip’s hand has a gash, and the pants of Clara and Ruthie’s jumpsuits each have a slice through them. Clara’s tear is accompanied by an equally long scratch. Trip pulls out one of the bottles of water from his bag and takes a huge chug.

Seph grabs his hand, forcing him to stop. “That might be all the water we have. I’m sure everyone needs some right now.”

They exchange hard looks, then Trip hands the bottle to Clara. She takes a nice pull from it, but she isn’t selfish like Trip and quickly hands it to Ruthie, who passes it to me when she’s done. There isn’t much left now, so I only take a small sip then hand it to Seph.

He shakes his head. “I’m good. You drink it.”

It’s my turn to shake my head. I’m not used to this Seph. I kind of like it… “We all need to stay hydrated.”

“I’ll take it if you don’t want it,” Trip says.

Seph nods to me like, go ahead and finish it off, so I do. But I don’t down it; I take my time and let the clean water roll over my tongue, swish it around in my mouth. I haven’t had water this fresh for longer than I want to remember. Even back home at the communal housing development, the water didn’t taste like this. There was a chemical essence that tried to overpower this almost earthy, moldy flavor, but it completely failed. I remember at first, it was hard to get down. I’d even go a day without drinking any. Mom would say I’d get used to it, but I wasn’t sure how. I wasn’t sure how anyone could get used to drinking that crap, when I knew damn well better water was possible. The stuff coming out of that faucet was literally the first taste I got that things in my life had seriously changed when we moved. I wonder if Mom and Noah are drinking enough now. Or what the water tastes like wherever Dad is.

Once the bottle is drained, I screw the top back on and give Seph a small smile before I quickly look away. Up ahead there are three different paths where I’m sure just a moment before there was just the same hallway. My mouth turns sour despite the refreshing water.

“What’s wrong?” Seph asks, studying my face, then spins around. “That… That wasn’t there before, was it?”

Everyone turns. My heart pounds harder than it did when I was running.

“What the fuck?” Trip says.

“You mean, you didn’t notice them before?” Ruthie grabs Clara’s hand, but it’s quaking steadily.

“Did you?” Trip asks, but Ruthie doesn’t move or speak. She seems stunned.

Clara just shakes her head in disbelief. “This is all wrong.” Her eyes stay locked with mine for a few seconds before she takes in a long breath. “I have something I need to tell you guys. My dad’s company builds places like this. Built this place. And I thought I knew more about them. And I did know about that first hidden door we went through.” She points to me. “But I’m wondering now if that was just a lucky guess, because none of this is familiar, and I don’t understand how any of this works. And I wish I could be more help, but I can’t.”

Trip drops his bag on the ground and throws his hands in the air. “So we’re fucked.”

Seph bends down and opens the bag, rifling through it, his arms straining against the sleeves of his T-shirt. I use my own sleeve to wipe the sweat from my face. The temperature is rising in here for sure, and it feels as though the water is being sucked right out of my body.

“Not necessarily,” I say. “Look, there has to be a way out. Whether we know which way that is or not there has to be one, and all we have to do is find it.” Wow, I made that sound so much simpler than it’s actually going to be. If it were really as easy as finding the door marked exit, that would be incredible, but this is going to be trickier than putting together a WALTER heart.

“Lezah’s right.” Clara smiles at me. “And I believe we can.”

Seph stops emptying the contents of Trip’s bag. “Lezah?” His gaze flutters between all of us. I know that look. It’s the same one he’d have during every test. He’s thinking, and for the first time, I wish I could see inside his head.

Trip kicks the air and grunts. “This is bullshit. How don’t you know anything about this place?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we just didn’t see them because everything looks the same. Or maybe they were always there and we didn’t notice them before.” Clara crinkles her brow. “But shouldn’t you—”

“All this shit, and you didn’t bring your SOUL?” Seph stands with everything shoved back in the bag, gripping it like he’s ready to tear it apart.

“You guys had your SOULs?” Clara snaps. I don’t blame her. I’m angry, too. I would’ve liked to have my SOUL even if they disabled most of the features, just to have it in my hand and feel normal for a second. Not as nice as it would’ve been to have hot showers and halfway decent food, but still.

“We all weren’t so lucky,” Seph grumbles, giving Trip a death stare.

Trip shrugs. “I didn’t think we’d need it.”

Seph throws the bag on the ground. “Dwayne was right, you are worthless.”

The old roommate, I remember, the one Trip wouldn’t shut up about. But he’s gone now, set free or something. Lucky bastard. I wonder what he didn’t do that landed him here. Maybe that’s why I’m here, too. Would they have set me free, like him?

“Dwayne was a tool. Fuck that guy.” Trip sounds way angrier than he should, even if his roommate did call him worthless. Sometimes the truth hurts.

Seph looks like he’s going to respond, but we don’t have time for this, so I jump between them. “Look, fighting with each other isn’t going to get us out of here. We have to decide which way we’re going, and if we’re sticking together or not.”

Everyone glances around at one another.

Clara steps closer to Ruthie, closing the space between them. “There’s safety in numbers.”

Ruthie gazes at Clara’s body next to hers but doesn’t move. “But there’s a better chance at least some of us will get through if we go different directions.”

Trip grabs his bag, dusting it off. “I vote we split up.”

Clara’s head snaps in his direction. I narrow my eyes at him. He sure came to that decision fast.

“Why?” Seph asks. It’s the same question inside my head.

“Like she said.” He points to Ruthie. “We have a better chance.” It’s true Ruthie said that. And even though I was the one to suggest it, I’m second-guessing myself. If we do go separate ways, someone is bound to draw the short straw. Someone is going to fail while someone else succeeds. Is that really fair?

“There are three ways we could go,” I say. “We could split up into three groups, everyone walk like one hundred steps or something, then turn around and come back. We meet back up here and report what we’ve found.”

“But there’s an odd number of us,” Clara says.

“It’s fine.” Trip straps the bag to his back. “I’ll go alone.”

Ruthie links arms with Clara, showing exactly who she wants to be paired up with. My stomach clenches. Clara mouths “sorry” to me, but what do I care? We’re not BFFs. We’re not even friends. I’d go on my own, too, if Trip didn’t jump at the chance. And he jumped, didn’t he? First he wants to split up, and now he wants to be alone. There’s something up with this guy, I feel it.

Seph steps forward. “We leave the bag here.” He grabs a hold of Trip and slides it off his back. “That way we know everyone’ll come back.” Looks like I’m not the only one with trust issues when it comes to Trip. Could it be possible that Seph and I are more alike than I remember?

“Whatever, dude.” Trip puts his hands up in surrender.

After a quick discussion, everyone agrees to the hundred-step plan. Ruthie and Clara go to the right. Trip in the middle. And Seph and I break off to the left.

He’s a good foot taller than me, so it’s no surprise his legs are longer, but still I have to walk faster than I’d like to keep up with his pace. His gaze stays focused ahead of us, his lips moving soundlessly as he counts each step he takes.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been this close to any guy, let alone Seph. He smells like wood and citrus. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take an extra-long whiff. His scent overtakes the stale air around us and makes me lightheaded. I wonder if he can tell that it’s been three days since I’ve taken a shower, and even then, there was barely enough soap to wash all of me and my hair. I lean my head down to sneak a whiff of my pit as I press against a door to see if it’ll give—it doesn’t. It’s not too bad—or I’m so used to my own stench I can’t notice it anymore. Please don’t let that be the case. Not that this is something I should really be worrying about right now. Or that I’m trying to impress him.

It’s just, I’m not good at this. People. Guys. He might as well be an alien for all I know what to say to him. Clara was the one who started our conversation before like it was the easiest thing in the world. I don’t know how to do that, or what to say. Instead, I notice how he has a slight limp and how his left arm swings a little more than his right. His shoulders slope forward, like he’s trying to carry the weight of the world on them, and his stunning gray eyes are sad, pained. It’s a look I’ve seen in my own eyes. Right after Dad vanished. And then when I moved. I’m sure they haven’t gotten any better since I’ve been in here.

His head swivels my way. “What?” His voice is rough, deep.

“Nothing,” I say instead of admitting I was staring.

He gazes back to what’s ahead of us, his lips still moving, thirty-something—I think. When he gets to forty, he turns in my direction. “Nice art.” He nods toward my arms, his brows drawn together. Either he’s really checking them out, or he doesn’t think there’s anything nice about them at all.

I don’t know which way to take it, so I just mumble, “Thanks.”

“I think birds are some of the coolest animals.” His finger skims over a huge black raven, sending goosebumps up my arm. My stomach turns over, reminding me it’s empty. I should’ve had a tortilla when I had the chance. “It must feel so free to be able to fly.”

The smallest of smiles plays on his full lips, and his eyes look distant—far away. If he hadn’t said he didn’t have his SOUL, I’d think he used it to put that hint of red creeping into his cheeks. Maybe if he wasn’t Seph and I wasn’t Lezah, I’d say he’s kind of cute. But the rosy color along with the smile fades before my eyes, reminding me exactly who we are.

“Yeah, I’d do anything to be back home.”

He nods, glances at me, and takes a breath. Then his brow scrunches together. “So, Lezah?”

“Yes, Seph.” Sure we were never friends, but what’s with the formality?

He frowns. “No. I mean… Why’d you change your na—”

A piercing scream rips through the air. Clara.

Seph and I exchange a glance and take off back toward where we left her and Ruthie.

Splitting up was a not a good idea. Why did I even suggest it? Dread rolls around in my stomach worse than the mush they fed us. Something has to be seriously wrong for Clara to scream like that. Maybe there are more spiders. Or maybe someone found them. Clara’s stronger than I am, but I’ll never forgive myself if something bad happened to her. I made a promise.

Please let her be okay.