Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Sure enough, low voices come our way. Shadow waves, pointing. I don't know where to go until Outlaw grabs me and pulls me after him into a little dark room. Storage closet, maybe?
When he shuts the door, it's completely black and super creepy. I put my hand on the wall, just to remind myself there's actually something here, then jump when his hand settles on my hip.
“Easy,” Outlaw whispers.
Outside the door, the voices grow louder. Hopefully they're not looking for mops or whatever’s in here with us. Then suddenly, there are a couple of dull thuds, a “What the—”, another thump, and then quiet.
There's a soft knock on our door. “All clear,” says Thunder.
Two men in white hospital uniforms are out cold on the floor, or at least I hope they’re just unconscious. Thunder and Lightning quickly pull them into the little room where Outlaw and I hid. Hopefully, by the time they wake up and make enough noise to be discovered, we'll be out of here.
We're about halfway down, when the lights suddenly flick on, so bright I have to shield my eyes. It's immediately followed by the ding of an elevator.
“Fuck,” growls Shadow. “Outlaw, take Harper. Scatter!”
Before I get a chance to see what's going on, Outlaw drags me down the hall, throwing me into another room before slamming the door shut behind us just as yelling starts out in the corridor.
“We can't just leave them,” I hiss.
“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps back in a rough whisper. “They can take care of themselves, but shooting a couple rocks doesn’t make you a fighter.”
There's a bang, a gunshot.
Outlaw stops me when I run for the door. “What the fuck are you doing?” I struggle against him, but his grip is iron. “You're not going out there.”
More gunshots sound out there, and someone screams. Oh God, oh God, oh God. It didn’t sound familiar, but… “What if it's—”
“They can take care of themselves,” he snaps, but I don't miss the tension in his voice. “There's nothing you can do about it, so we're gonna keep you safe. Come.”
He drags me towards a door at the other end of the room that’s marked with a lightning bolt. Inside, there’s a faint hum, and a soft breeze of slightly cool air blowing past us. A maintenance room of some sort, maybe?
No sooner has Outlaw closed the door behind us, putting us in near complete darkness, before there are voices right outside. “Someone went in here. I'm positive,” snarls a male voice. I breathe in very, very shallow breaths, sure that someone's bound to hear my heart thundering.
“Come.” Outlaw's lips brush my cheek as he speaks. He uses the faint light of the machinery to examine the room.
Next to a large cabinet, there's a grate in the wall where the air's coming through. He pulls out a pocket knife, and uses it to work out the screws that are holding the cover in place. It’s not easy work, and the knife tools aren’t quite the right size, but he stays focused and keeps going.
“What was that?” A different voice, male, but higher. “We should call 911. This is above my pay grade.” Further away now, there's another gunshot.
Two of the screws are out, and one looks like it's missing. That leaves one more. I think I know what Outlaw's plan is, and I don’t like it one bit. I'm not claustrophobic, but is crawling around in air ducts a thing people can actually do outside movies?
“Fine, but check the closet first.”
Oh no.
The last screw comes loose, and Outlaw pulls it open. “Quick,” he hisses, and for once, I don't argue or hesitate. He grabs my hips and helps.
The duct is as dirty as I imagined. I grimace as I military crawl into it. In the dark it's hard to get a sense for how big it is, but if it feels this cramped for me, I can't imagine how it must feel for Outlaw. Assuming he's coming, but… he wouldn’t leave me here alone, right? I panic and freeze.
But no, he’s right behind me, shoving my ass. I scrabble forwards as quickly as I can, hoping he's getting enough space.
“Keep moving,” he hisses, the sound bouncing off the inside of the duct. I feel like we must be super loud, but maybe it's just because it's so quiet in here. Something clicks behind us, but I don't know if it's Outlaw somehow putting the grate back in place, or the door opening. There’s nowhere to go but forwards. I’m one hundred percent convinced that I'm going to hit a turn so sharp that I don't have room to turn, or that we're going to get stuck and die in here, and they won't find us until we start to smell.
I take back everything I thought about this being a little fun.