by Dylan Steel
One…
Getting closer.
Two…
Almost there. She swung her legs back. Her heels actually grazed the opposite wall this time, and she tried to give herself a little boost by pushing against it.
It may have been too much.
Her eyes widened as a sickening tearing sound rang out, the echo reverberating throughout the narrow space. She felt her body drop ever so slightly—about an inch—as she rushed through the air toward the ladder again.
Horrified, Sage realized the rope was about to give out—she didn’t have another swing left to try to get any closer to the rungs. This was her only chance.
Arching her back as she flew through the air, she released the rope just before it could pull her back again—or at least it would have if the fabric hadn’t snapped, going limp in her hands just as she decided to let go.
An eerie sensation of being suspended in mid-air washed over her. It didn’t last long. She kicked forward as the torn rope whooshed past her legs. Stretching forward with her arms, she held her breath, hoping to feel the reassurance of unyielding steel against her fingers.
The tips of her fingers brushed against something cold and hard, then felt nothing but air for a moment before crashing against the next rung down.
She was falling fast.
Her fingers managed to curve around one rung, but not fast enough. Still rushing downward, she missed another rung, then another. Finally, after about the fifth rung, she felt her hands grasp the thin metal bar. Her shoulders jerked angrily against their sockets, and she hurriedly turned her face to the side as her body continued forward, slamming against the wall.
“Ooohmphf.”
The pain that shot through her body when she hit the wall took her breath away in an instant. She desperately gulped for air, reminding herself that she had to keep holding on despite her instinct to curl into a tight ball until the throbbing ebbed away.
Wincing, Sage began feeling for a foothold with her toes. It didn’t take long, and she felt immediate relief when her arms were no longer bearing her whole body weight.
She leaned her forehead against the wall, breathing in deeply.
The worst part’s over.
Nodding to herself, she urged herself onward, slowly starting her descent.
A high-pitched ping echoed in the shaft with every step she took. She grimaced, hoping it was only audible from inside the shaft.
Each time she shifted her weight to her right side, a searing pain tore through her knee, rendering her leg nearly useless. She’d smashed her kneecap squarely into one of the rungs when she’d fallen and was now forced to compensate for its weakness with her remaining limbs, practically hopping from one foothold to the next.
The Transfer chamber stretched on for much longer than Sage anticipated. By now, she’d made her way deep enough that the light from the trapdoor was no longer reaching her. She was moving in complete darkness.
Every inch of her body was screaming at her. She didn’t think she’d ever felt so tired or been in so much pain—even during Bokja Tournaments. But she knew she had to press on. Her life—and her freedom—depended on it.
Grunting, she felt for the next rung with her foot. To her surprise, it knocked against something else, something solid. It didn’t seem to be attached to the wall. The Transfer?
With nothing but blackness surrounding her, there was no way to be certain. She lowered the upper half of her body, crouching near her feet and stretching out her hand into the darkness.
Her fingers thumped against something hard. Metal? She swept her hand in a semicircle, trying to figure out if there really was a solid surface just beneath her.
She felt her hands trembling and scolded herself. There was no time for fear. She had to act.
Move.
Sucking in a breath, she slipped her feet onto whatever was beneath her and squatted even lower, reaching her hand out, patting the metal all around her. Finally convinced that there was enough space to stand on—and that it would hold her weight—she let go of the rungs and began inching farther along the surface. The surface she was exploring was uneven, and her fingers repeatedly jammed against its different sections.
Her hand brushed against something different, something loose and far rougher than the metal she’d been feeling. She recoiled in disgust. Whatever it was, it felt wet, and she didn’t think she wanted to keep touching it.
A sudden realization washed over her. The rope. She laughed wryly under her breath. She’d just pulled off a death-defying feat, and she was worried about some wet, ratty fabric.
Shaking her head, she felt for the rope again and pulled it toward herself, looping it around her arm and then hooking it over her shoulder. She still had no idea what she’d be up against when she figured a way out of this chamber, and it could come in useful.
Feeling along the surface some more, she soon traced her way around in a square, returning to the ladder. Satisfied that she was, in fact, on top of the Transfer, she decided to rest for a minute while she figured out her next move. She stayed near the ladder just in case her assumptions turned out to be wrong.
She didn’t have to wonder for long though. Just moments after she’d settled into a spot, the Transfer whirred to life, jerking upward suddenly. She whipped her hand off a ladder rung—and not a moment too soon. Her eyes were wide with terror as she realized she’d nearly just lost her hand.
Pressing herself against the top of the Transfer, she searched desperately for a good grip on something to stabilize herself, the edges of her fingers curling around the nearest protrusions. Her face was mashed sideways against the metal, her jaw tense.
The Transfer stopped moving abruptly, and Sage felt her body continue lifting upward above it for a moment before flopping back down. She gritted her teeth and stifled a moan as her injured knee rammed against the surface. But her pain was quickly forgotten when she realized that—just as the Transfer stopped its ascent—she’d seen a sliver of light escaping the top of the Transfer, mere inches from her nose.
Her heart pounded with excitement. It was possible the top of the Transfer wasn’t quite as solid as she’d first thought.
Muffled voices carried through the air to her perch. She frowned and strained to make out the words, but she quickly gave up. There was simply too much material between her and whoever was in the Transfer.
Before she knew what was happening, the Transfer began moving again, this time plunging down even farther than she’d been before. Fortunately, she’d been frozen in place from the first moment she heard the voices, so bracing herself this time was easier than before.
After a short distance, the Transfer came to a jarring stop. Sage grimaced as her ribs dug into the unforgiving metal beneath her.
She held her breath, listening to the voices as they exited the room beneath her. She still couldn’t understand anything they were saying, but she could at least tell they sounded unhappy.
Once she was confident the room below her was empty again, Sage felt around for the spot where she’d seen light a few minutes earlier. Her knuckles scraped against an uneven section, and her fingers eagerly traced a raised square outline.
Her stomach fluttered with anticipation as she dug her nails under the panel and strained to lift it. Nothing happened. Frowning, she brushed her hand along the top of the section again. This time, her fingers jammed against something else. Whatever it was, she’d missed it on the first pass. As she was touching it, trying to figure out what it was, she felt it drop from the pressure of her hand.
Thwunk.
Sage moved her hands back to the edge of the section, hoping the sound she’d just heard was a latch releasing. She braced herself and pulled up on the panel. It was heavy, but it lifted this time, flooding her small space with a welcome light.
As her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, Sage quickly realized that while she stayed in the shaft, the doorways for the other levels were too far for her to reach—and t
hat was assuming she could even figure out how to pry them open. Her best option for escape was going straight through the Transfer room.
Heart pounding in her chest, she moved aside the Transfer’s interior ceiling panel and grabbed the edges of the opening she’d just made, dropping inside with a soft thud.
She straightened, looking around the small room as if she were seeing it for the first time. In all her thoughts and plans for escaping, she’d never been able to figure out a way out of the room without Sam’s handprint—other than trying to force open the door with brute force—but she’d never had the opportunity to try before.
Sucking in a breath, she placed her palms against the door and pulled with all her strength. A sickening screech shot through the room as her hands slipped, dragging along the metal. She winced. That approach obviously wasn’t going to be very effective.
Standing in the center of the room, she pivoted slowly, taking in her options. Worry creased her brows as she realized what she’d have to try next.
At a complete loss for another plan, she swept her hand in front of the panel. She’d seen it done hundreds of times, but she’d never been the one to give the commands. She just had to hope the door would automatically open if the panel rejected her print.
The screen came to life, a message blinking unreadably fast a few times before it decided it wanted to stay.
Registered:
Guest 52496C
Sage raised an eyebrow. Guest 52496C? Guest? She frowned in confusion as the words disappeared from view. She most certainly was not a guest here. Maybe the Transfer had a default code for unrecognized operators.
A moment later, another message appeared.
Parameters accepted.
Returning to guest floor.
The Transfer lurched downward. Her stomach twisted in a mixture of fear and hope. What was happening? Where was she being taken? Could it be taking her to the main floor of the building, where she could just walk freely out the front door?
Moments later, the Transfer jolted to a stop. The door slid open in front of her. An unsettlingly familiar hallway stretched out in front of her. She bit her lip and stepped out of the Transfer before it could seal her inside again.
Glancing around, Sage decided her only option was to try the doors. She’d never had a chance to do so before, so she hoped she’d been wrong in assuming that they were all locked.
She raced from one door to another, jiggling the handles as she went. It was useless. All the effort she’d put into escaping, and she’d wound up right back where she started. Being locked in the hallway just outside her room wasn’t all that different than being locked inside her room.
Rounding the corner, she continued moving from door to door, checking each one as she went. Waves of disappointment crashed over her. She finally reached the end of the hallway. There were only three doors left. Hers was at the end of the hall, sandwiched by two others, one on either side.
Not bothering to try her own door, Sage moved to the left, grabbing the handle mechanically. To her surprise, the knob spun in her hand, and the door cracked open. Excitement welled up inside her.
Poking her head in the room, her giddy smile quickly disappeared. The room seemed to be nothing more than a neglected storage space. It was filled with shelves and spare furniture and random small knick-knacks, but she saw no other doors or windows. She doubted her escape route lay in the room.
Closing the door, she crossed the hall and held her breath hopefully, grabbing the final doorknob. It, too, opened easily, giving way to a small room filled mostly with empty space, save a couple overstuffed armchairs and a decorative tapestry hanging on the wall.
Curious. The last two doors were unlocked. The ones closest to her room. Maybe they were both useless, or maybe Sam had just forgotten to lock them—either way, she hoped there was something in this room that could help her.
Stepping into the new room, Sage looked around carefully. This space was also devoid of windows or other doors or anything useful. Another dead end. Her heart sank in a crushing defeat. After everything she’d just been through, she didn’t want to give up, but she didn’t see a way out anymore.
She sank into one of the chairs, tears welling up in her eyes. She glared at the figures on the wall tapestry, hating them for how happy they looked.
“I just want to leave,” she whispered angrily, not daring to speak any louder for fear of getting caught.
Choking back a few sobs, she sat up straighter, more determined.
“There has to be a way,” she whispered furtively. “Maybe if I go back to the Transfer I can climb back up the…” she trailed off as her eyes landed on what appeared to be a small crack in the wall beneath the tapestry.
“No way,” she murmured disbelievingly as she ventured closer. She swept her arm across the heavy mural, shoving it to the side. “No way,” she repeated, staring at the wall.
No. At the door.
This room had a door hidden behind the tapestry, just like the roof access in the Institution.
Bursting with excitement, Sage pushed open the door and stumbled into a small stairwell. She immediately began debating whether she should go up or down, but she quickly realized there was only one option. Up. She must have been on the bottom floor of the building all along. And with the obvious lack of windows, she was probably in a basement. That also explained why her Transfer rides to the roof were so long.
She took the stairs two at a time until she got winded, then began to slow down. Unsure how many levels she’d need to climb to get to the ground floor, she eyed each new door with suspicion, wondering if it was the one she should have chosen. Her estimation was largely instinctive, hoping her mind hadn’t overinflated the amount of time it had taken to climb down the ladder in the Transfer shaft.
Stopping at the seventh door, Sage forced herself to pause for a few moments to catch her breath. She was out of breath and terrified, in no shape to run or fight if she encountered Sam.
Her hand was shaking as she reached for the door, wondering what would greet her on the other side.
13. INSIDE
Slipping through the door, Sage quietly pulled it shut behind her. Her jaw dropped as she looked around.
She was standing in a very different room than the one she’d left. Tall floor-to-ceiling windows covered most of one wall, flanked by beautiful heavy canvas curtains. The room was decorated immaculately with a cozy seating area surrounding a fireplace on the side of the room opposite the windows. A large, intricate rug sprawled across the length of the room, ending just before a small bar.
The fire crackled and suddenly popped loudly, startling her enough to remind her of the urgency of her situation.
Darting to the window, she peered out at her surroundings. She frowned. Apparently, it had grown dark in the late afternoon, probably because it was still raining heavily outside. She realized she’d guessed correctly and was actually on the ground floor. But outside, she couldn’t make out anything more than a few feet away. That was unhelpful, but at least the rain would offer her good cover.
Now, she just had to find a way out of this place, whatever it was.
She ran her hands along the edges of the windows. No latches. Unless she wanted to break a window and potentially alert Sam, the only way out of the room was the door.
With a renewed hope, Sage hurriedly padded across the carpet to the door. Placing her trembling hand on the knob, she twisted it slowly, cautiously peeking into the next room.
Her heart fluttered as she stepped into the next room. It was similarly decorated, quite plush. Part of her wondered what this place was, and the other part of her told her to stop asking pointless questions and to hurry up before she got caught.
Rushing past delicate figurines and other impractical, breathtaking baubles, she ran from one room to another, pausing for a moment at each doorway to make sure she’d be alone in the next room. Why was this enormous place so quiet? It was unsettling.
Closing another door behind her, she entered the largest room yet. And it was completely empty, filled only with extravagant lighting and pristine wood floors. Darting beneath a row of chandeliers, she headed straight for the doorway—a large, gaping space without doors separating it from the next room. Sage scanned up ahead, anxious to be done weaving through a maze of rooms.
Her stomach flipped in excitement. There, out of the corner of her vision, she saw a door. Not a door to a room. A door to the world outside. A door to freedom.
Unable to stop herself, she broke into a sprint with a complete disregard for all the caution she’d been exercising just moments earlier. The pain from her injured knee faded into the background in her eagerness to reach the door.
Racing through the next two rooms, she burst into what must have been a foyer—also spectacularly lavish, not that she cared—heading straight for the tall double doors that separated her from the rain.
She hadn’t taken more than a few steps when a woman suddenly stepped out from another room and walked directly in front of her while staring down at a tablet in her hands. They collided, tumbling rather unceremoniously together to the floor. The woman let out a surprised cry.
Sage sat up quickly, groaning. She blinked in shock, staring at the woman sitting in front of her, her mouth hanging open.
Sophia Bennick.
Sophia’s eyes widened as they met Sage’s. All the color drained from her face.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” she asked shakily, looking Sage up and down as she retrieved her tablet and scrambled to her feet, rubbing her arm.
Sage hesitated. She remembered the benefactor being a kind woman, but she couldn’t help feeling trapped. If she was here, Sage figured this must be her house—or one of them, at least. And if she’d been kept at the benefactor’s house this whole time—she needed to leave. Now.
“Answer me,” Sophia demanded, her voice cracking. Her eyes fell on the makeshift rope still slung over Sage’s shoulder, and they widened even more. “How are you here?”
“S-sorry,” Sage stammered. “I was just leaving.” She began backing toward the door.