Desperation in Death (In Death #55)(4)

She had time to tuck the wad into her cheek when Nurse came back—wearing fresh shoes.

“I’m so sorry, Nurse. I’m sorry, but I feel a lot better. Just really tired and sort of weak, but my stomach doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Nurse grunted, took her temperature, checked her pulse.

Mina knew her skin felt clammy—but that was fear, and excitement.

“I’m not hauling you upstairs, then having somebody haul you back down again if it starts up again. You’ll stay in the sickroom tonight.”

“I just want to sleep.”

Nurse helped her up, and Mina leaned against her as they went across the hall to the sickroom. Half the size of her bedroom upstairs, it held a cot, a rolling chair for a medical.

At the door, Mina swayed, leaned a little more weight on Nurse as she covered her mouth with her hand, spit out the gum.

“I thought…” She breathed out as she shoved the wad of gum against the latch. “False alarm. A little queasy, but not like before.”

Nurse dumped her on the cot, used the mini tablet in her pocket to record the sickroom stay. She set a bucket beside the bed.

“You have to go, you have to vomit again, use that. If you need medical assistance, press the button on the bed guard. Don’t bother me unless you need medical assistance. Understood?”

“Yes, yes. I’m so tired. I just want to sleep.”

“Easy for you. I have to clean up your mess. Lights, ten percent,” she ordered. “So you don’t miss the bucket.”

She stalked out.

Since Mina didn’t have a clock, she counted off the minutes.

Nurse had to get cleaning supplies, mop up the puke, then she’d probably go back and clean up her shoes. She had a little room with a sleep chair and a screen.

Maybe she’d sit at her desk first, write up the report on the puking incident, but if she did, she’d face the comp screen, not the glass door.

Quietly, Mina slipped off the cot, moved to the door. She pressed her ear to it, heard nothing.

Now or never, she told herself, and eased the door open a crack.

No alarm sounded, so she picked the nasty gum off the latch, then crept out. Nurse sat at the desk, and everything inside Mina trembled.

She pulled the door closed behind her, heard the lock click. Though it sounded like an explosion in her head, Nurse didn’t even glance away from the screen as she worked.

Mina made the dash to the elevator.

“Come on, Dorian. Please, please, please.”

If Dorian didn’t come—

No, no, she would. She had to. They had to get out, go to the police. She had to call her mom and dad. They’d come get her. And Dorian, too.

They’d be safe, and all these terrible people would go to jail.

But the minutes ticked by.

What if Nurse decided to check on her? What if someone else got sick, and a matron brought them down? What if Auntie—

She heard the elevator hum, and instinctively stepped back, looked wildly for a place to hide.

Then braced her shoulders. If the doors opened and she didn’t see Dorian, it was over anyway. Everything. She’d be punished, beaten, tossed into the box. She’d be sold at auction like a—like a painting or some fancy necklace.

A thing. She wouldn’t live as a thing.

When the doors opened, she nearly cried out. Slapping a hand over her own mouth, she leaped in with Dorian.

Forgetting the gum, she gripped Dorian’s hand.

“What the—”

“Sorry. Gum. I used it on the latch. SB? Subbasement, right? That’s got to be it.” Mina pressed the button.

Authorization required for that level.

They both jumped a foot.

“Swipe card, try the swipe card on the pad. It has to work. It has to.”

Dorian gripped her own wrist to steady her hand, swiped the card. Mina pushed the button again.

Authorization verified.

The elevator started down.

“Someone could be down there,” Dorian said. “What do we do if somebody’s right there?”

“I don’t know. We—we run, or try to fight. I don’t know. We got this far. Oh God, oh God, I guess I never really believed we’d get this far, so I don’t know.”

It took forever, or seemed like it as they wrapped arms around each other.

Then the doors opened, and still wrapped around each other, they stepped out into dim light.

“It really is a tunnel.”

“It goes both ways.” Dorian pointed right, then left. “Which way is out?”

“We have to pick one. You pick. I feel like I might puke again.”

Dorian chose right. “We should run. We might not have much time. The Matron Monster might need her swipe.” She shoved it in her back pocket in case they needed it again. “Maybe she’ll think she dropped it, but maybe she’ll put it together.”

Hands clasped, they ran. The tunnel echoed, so they spoke in whispers, filling each other in.

Then the tunnel forked.

“You pick this time,” Dorian said when they stopped.

“We went right,” Mina replied, “so this time left. It has to lead somewhere because that’s how they removed that poor girl. We just keep going until we escape. Then we have to determine where we are. You were in New York, I was in Devon. We could be anywhere now. We break free, find out where we are, get somewhere I can call my parents. And the police.”