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Authors: Derting Kimberly
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concerned, and he pocketed the flashlight as he started up the ladder. “Only one way to find out.” Then he paused. “But if anything does happen, you need to save yourself. Find someplace safe and stay hidden. Someone—Jett or Willow . . . or someone will come back for you.” He shot me a pointed look over his shoulder. “I mean it, Kyra. Stay hidden.” He paused, waiting for me to agree.
My mom and I spent a girls’ night one time watching Titanic, the version with Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet. And the way Simon was looking at me was like the scene where the two of them are floating in the icy waters of theAtlantic, after the ship has sunk, and Leo’s character, Jack, tells Kate’s character, Rose, to “never let go” . . . minus the freezing waters and blue lips.
“I will. I’ll stay hidden,” I finally caved, even if it was just to make him stop giving me that look.
Satisfied with my answer, Simon turned and scaled the rungs two at a time, and I followed right behind, not wanting to be trapped down in this place a second longer. When we reached the top, there was a heavy grille blocking our way. He glanced back at me, grinning over his shoulder as he reached out and scratched his fingertips along its surface, creating an almost imperceptible rasping sound.
I was about to ask if he needed a hand, or maybe a straightjacket, but when there was a matching response that came from the other side, all scratchy and quiet—an acknowledgment—my eyes widened.
“Willow?” I whispered up to him. “How’d she know we’d be down here?”
“She didn’t,” Simon answered, right before the grate slid open above his head. “That’s why I gave her the signal. In case something went wrong. It was our backup plan.”
Willow stood above us, peering down into the opening impatiently, as if we’d kept her waiting. “What took you two so long?” she criticized, but she was smiling when she reached out for us.
When I was on my feet again, I checked out the sterile-looking hallway we stood in. The lights here were bright, reflecting off the ultra-white tiles beneath us. The wholething—the explosion, the gas-releasing key card, and the underground tunnels—was so secret agent–y I couldn’t help feeling like some kind of superspy.
“We safe?” I asked Willow, searching for signs we weren’t alone.
“Safe- ish . Most everyone was sent offsite. They’re convinced we got a good five-minute lead on ’em.” Willow scoffed. “That Agent Truman’s sure a piece’a work. Thinks his shit don’t stink, don’t he? Wouldn’t even put on a haz-suit.”
Willow hadn’t heard what we had, about them not having enough suits for everyone. Still, it was hard to imagine Agent Truman sacrificing his own safety for that of his men.
“I don’t think your boy’s here, though,” Willow said.
My heart withered.
“Surprised you waited for us.” Simon winked at her.
“I planned to give you another sixty seconds, and then you were on your own,” she shot back.
“That right?” Simon questioned, his black brow raised challengingly.
Willow glanced at her watch—a black timepiece that looked like it was issued straight from the military and could withstand a nuclear blast. Envy that she knew the time ate me up inside. Her eyebrow ticked up as a small grin parted her lips. “No, actually. You were down to forty-three seconds.”
Simon laughed and nodded toward Willow’s backpack, which was bulkier than it had been when she’d left the lab,and sagged like it was being weighted down—a telltale sign that she’d been scavenging while we were laying low in the underground tunnels. “Looks like you found some stuff we might need.”
Willow’s grin just grew. “You know . . . I had some time.”
CHAPTER SIX
IT WAS DARK WHEN THE THREE OF US SPILLED out of the east exit door, which dropped us into a dim alleyway behind the building. The only light out here came from a parking lot in the distance. A
My mom and I spent a girls’ night one time watching Titanic, the version with Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet. And the way Simon was looking at me was like the scene where the two of them are floating in the icy waters of theAtlantic, after the ship has sunk, and Leo’s character, Jack, tells Kate’s character, Rose, to “never let go” . . . minus the freezing waters and blue lips.
“I will. I’ll stay hidden,” I finally caved, even if it was just to make him stop giving me that look.
Satisfied with my answer, Simon turned and scaled the rungs two at a time, and I followed right behind, not wanting to be trapped down in this place a second longer. When we reached the top, there was a heavy grille blocking our way. He glanced back at me, grinning over his shoulder as he reached out and scratched his fingertips along its surface, creating an almost imperceptible rasping sound.
I was about to ask if he needed a hand, or maybe a straightjacket, but when there was a matching response that came from the other side, all scratchy and quiet—an acknowledgment—my eyes widened.
“Willow?” I whispered up to him. “How’d she know we’d be down here?”
“She didn’t,” Simon answered, right before the grate slid open above his head. “That’s why I gave her the signal. In case something went wrong. It was our backup plan.”
Willow stood above us, peering down into the opening impatiently, as if we’d kept her waiting. “What took you two so long?” she criticized, but she was smiling when she reached out for us.
When I was on my feet again, I checked out the sterile-looking hallway we stood in. The lights here were bright, reflecting off the ultra-white tiles beneath us. The wholething—the explosion, the gas-releasing key card, and the underground tunnels—was so secret agent–y I couldn’t help feeling like some kind of superspy.
“We safe?” I asked Willow, searching for signs we weren’t alone.
“Safe- ish . Most everyone was sent offsite. They’re convinced we got a good five-minute lead on ’em.” Willow scoffed. “That Agent Truman’s sure a piece’a work. Thinks his shit don’t stink, don’t he? Wouldn’t even put on a haz-suit.”
Willow hadn’t heard what we had, about them not having enough suits for everyone. Still, it was hard to imagine Agent Truman sacrificing his own safety for that of his men.
“I don’t think your boy’s here, though,” Willow said.
My heart withered.
“Surprised you waited for us.” Simon winked at her.
“I planned to give you another sixty seconds, and then you were on your own,” she shot back.
“That right?” Simon questioned, his black brow raised challengingly.
Willow glanced at her watch—a black timepiece that looked like it was issued straight from the military and could withstand a nuclear blast. Envy that she knew the time ate me up inside. Her eyebrow ticked up as a small grin parted her lips. “No, actually. You were down to forty-three seconds.”
Simon laughed and nodded toward Willow’s backpack, which was bulkier than it had been when she’d left the lab,and sagged like it was being weighted down—a telltale sign that she’d been scavenging while we were laying low in the underground tunnels. “Looks like you found some stuff we might need.”
Willow’s grin just grew. “You know . . . I had some time.”
CHAPTER SIX
IT WAS DARK WHEN THE THREE OF US SPILLED out of the east exit door, which dropped us into a dim alleyway behind the building. The only light out here came from a parking lot in the distance. A
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