Read Online Winterbay by J. Barton Mitchell - Free Book Online
Authors: J. Barton Mitchell
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side.
The first thing she noticed was the smell, the unpleasant mix of gas, stale water, and fish from outside. The second was that, even in the dark, the room just felt wrong. It was the only way she could describe it. It was cold here; there was a heaviness to the air that was unsettling. All her flashlight lit was the floor in front of the door. She could raise it and reveal the room, but Mira had instincts, and they were telling her that was a very bad idea. Whatever went on down here, it wasn’t anything she wanted to see.
Luckily for her, the breaker box had been installed right near the door. She opened it and shined her light in. One of the breakers had flipped. Mira shoved it back into position. In the next room, she could hear the engines begin to hum again, and she breathed a sigh of— A single light in the ceiling flickered weakly as it powered on with dirty-brownish light. Mira knew she should spin around before she saw what was there, but she didn’t move, frozen either from fear or from some morbid curiosity. She just stood there and took in the entire room at once. She immediately wished she hadn’t.
There were only a few things of note inside. One was a chair, a thick metal one that was bolted into the floor near the back. Where the footrests were, thick leather restraints lay, ready to be locked in place. It was the same on the armrests.
Near the chair was a single workbench, and it was scattered with tools that contained grim implications: pliers, clamps, a heating torch, a mallet, a variety of knives and razors. Underneath the chair, the floor was stained with dark splotches, and as awful as all that was, something much worse drew her attention.
A jagged hole had been cut into the center of the floor, and Mira saw water lap gently up and over the edge and drain back down. It had been opened to the lake below. Something about the sight of that hole chilled Mira like nothing else in her life. From her vantage, she could just see into the blackish depths that sank straight downward.
Mira’s mind went blank. Somehow, she managed to make herself move back through the door and slam it shut, and when she did she planted her back against it and remembered to breathe once again, swallowing frightened gulps of air.
When her hands stopped shaking, she was overtaken with a flood of thoughts. That hole in the floor meant Armitage was more than just a businessman or even a scoundrel, he was a killer. A malicious one, and he would have no problem dumping what was left of her down that hole, where she would settle with the remains of everyone else who had sat in that chair.
It meant something else, too. It was pretty clear that if whatever Armitage wanted was so valuable that someone equally as sadistic had made this Machine to guard it, he very likely had no intention of letting her live once her usefulness ran out. People who made things like that room back there weren’t the kinds of people who liked loose ends.
Mira looked at the stairs leading up and out and back into the Underworks. She could go right now, find another way out and back into the city, leave and never look back. Armitage might send Reiko after her, or he might not, but it was a gamble that would be worth taking. Because she was facing certain death just by continuing now.
Olive’s last words echoed in her mind. Remember what your lines are …
Then again … how was her situation any different than it had been? The Machine itself was certain death, and yet she had been willing to face it. It was because the plutonium was worth the risk. Getting it now, saving months of time, having the key component of her plan to fix everything at Midnight City—that was worth almost anything.
The realization calmed her nerves somewhat, and she felt her breathing begin to slow. After all, wasn’t she actually in a better position than she had been? Before she’d had her suspicions, but Mira hadn’t really realized what kind of man she was
The first thing she noticed was the smell, the unpleasant mix of gas, stale water, and fish from outside. The second was that, even in the dark, the room just felt wrong. It was the only way she could describe it. It was cold here; there was a heaviness to the air that was unsettling. All her flashlight lit was the floor in front of the door. She could raise it and reveal the room, but Mira had instincts, and they were telling her that was a very bad idea. Whatever went on down here, it wasn’t anything she wanted to see.
Luckily for her, the breaker box had been installed right near the door. She opened it and shined her light in. One of the breakers had flipped. Mira shoved it back into position. In the next room, she could hear the engines begin to hum again, and she breathed a sigh of— A single light in the ceiling flickered weakly as it powered on with dirty-brownish light. Mira knew she should spin around before she saw what was there, but she didn’t move, frozen either from fear or from some morbid curiosity. She just stood there and took in the entire room at once. She immediately wished she hadn’t.
There were only a few things of note inside. One was a chair, a thick metal one that was bolted into the floor near the back. Where the footrests were, thick leather restraints lay, ready to be locked in place. It was the same on the armrests.
Near the chair was a single workbench, and it was scattered with tools that contained grim implications: pliers, clamps, a heating torch, a mallet, a variety of knives and razors. Underneath the chair, the floor was stained with dark splotches, and as awful as all that was, something much worse drew her attention.
A jagged hole had been cut into the center of the floor, and Mira saw water lap gently up and over the edge and drain back down. It had been opened to the lake below. Something about the sight of that hole chilled Mira like nothing else in her life. From her vantage, she could just see into the blackish depths that sank straight downward.
Mira’s mind went blank. Somehow, she managed to make herself move back through the door and slam it shut, and when she did she planted her back against it and remembered to breathe once again, swallowing frightened gulps of air.
When her hands stopped shaking, she was overtaken with a flood of thoughts. That hole in the floor meant Armitage was more than just a businessman or even a scoundrel, he was a killer. A malicious one, and he would have no problem dumping what was left of her down that hole, where she would settle with the remains of everyone else who had sat in that chair.
It meant something else, too. It was pretty clear that if whatever Armitage wanted was so valuable that someone equally as sadistic had made this Machine to guard it, he very likely had no intention of letting her live once her usefulness ran out. People who made things like that room back there weren’t the kinds of people who liked loose ends.
Mira looked at the stairs leading up and out and back into the Underworks. She could go right now, find another way out and back into the city, leave and never look back. Armitage might send Reiko after her, or he might not, but it was a gamble that would be worth taking. Because she was facing certain death just by continuing now.
Olive’s last words echoed in her mind. Remember what your lines are …
Then again … how was her situation any different than it had been? The Machine itself was certain death, and yet she had been willing to face it. It was because the plutonium was worth the risk. Getting it now, saving months of time, having the key component of her plan to fix everything at Midnight City—that was worth almost anything.
The realization calmed her nerves somewhat, and she felt her breathing begin to slow. After all, wasn’t she actually in a better position than she had been? Before she’d had her suspicions, but Mira hadn’t really realized what kind of man she was
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