Deep Down Dead

by Steph Broadribb

  JT took my arm and together we stepped over the rope barrier on the opposite side of the street. He leant in closer – so close I could feel his breath warm against my cheek. ‘Nicely done.’

  Walking fast, we moved around the edge of the crowd and headed towards the ice caves. It wasn’t easy. The crowd was thirty deep, their attention on the parade. No one wanted to give an inch for fear of losing their view. Well, I had no time for that. Used my elbows to manoeuvre through. Ignored the dirty looks and muttered insults.

  As we reached the ice caves, the dance music had gotten so loud, I thought my ears would bleed. The first float was painted silver, with pale-blue stars glittering across every surface and disco lights swirling in time with the music. On it danced people dressed as the characters from the recent Frozen Moon cartoon.

  My breath caught in my throat. Dakota had loved that movie so much. As the characters waved at us, I thought again of my baby’s tearstained face. I clenched my fists. ‘All set?’ I whispered to JT.

  Without taking his eyes off the parade, he nodded.

  As the float drew level with us, we stepped back into the cave. Slow and steady, watching the crowd, waiting for someone to notice us.

  They didn’t. We reached the sectioned-off area, and stopped behind the screen, hidden from view. I exhaled. Knew that the bit we’d done had been easy compared to what was to come.

  I pulled the keycard from my pocket. On the post beside the metal trapdoor was a card reader. The light above it glowed red. I held the keycard against the reader. Nothing happened. Shit. My heart beat faster. What if the crowd-control crew didn’t get access to the tunnels?

  ‘Try again,’ said JT.

  I pressed the keycard against the card reader again. Kept it there a little longer this time, held my breath.

  The light turned green. I heard a metallic click.

  JT turned the handle and pulled the hatch open. Beneath it was a short flight of steps down to a small, square platform. Some kind of elevator, I assumed.

  I hurried down, my footsteps echoing in the small space. The platform wobbled as I stepped on to it.

  JT bounded down the steps and joined me on the platform. ‘All set?’

  ‘Sure.’

  He reached up and pulled the trapdoor shut. For a moment everything was pitch-dark, then the lights flickered on, light sensor-activated I guessed.

  JT pressed the green button on the control panel. The platform started slowly to descend. I hoped to hell it wouldn’t take long.

  The tunnels were painted white, and better lit than I’d expected. Still, the clinical brightness didn’t help the claustrophobic feeling of the place, and did nothing to disguise the stale taste in the air. Exiting the elevator, we hurried towards the main tunnel twenty yards ahead. I scanned the walls, noted the doors with signs to the break room and the dressing area. Couldn’t spot any cameras. Didn’t mean they weren’t there though, concealed someplace. Watching.

  Cameras weren’t our only problem. We weren’t alone. Up ahead in the main tunnel a steady stream of staff, some in costume, others in tabards and crew uniforms, scurried to wherever their work was scheduled. None paid us any mind. Yet. Still, I knew that as soon as we stepped on to the concourse our casual clothes would mark us out as different. We needed a better disguise.

  I put my hand on JT’s arm, nodding towards the dressing area. ‘In here.’

  Easing the door open, I checked the room was empty. It was. We hurried inside and bolted the door shut. Along the far wall, a row of character costumes were suspended like hog carcasses on hooks. Percy Penguin, Chester Chipmunk, Saskia Seal, and a whole bunch of others that I didn’t know the names for, stared sightlessly at us.

  ‘We have to get through the tunnels without being spotted. These are our best option.’ I stepped towards the costumes, glanced back at JT. ‘Find one that fits.’

  He smiled that crooked half-smile of his. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  My fingers trembled as I sorted through the costumes and grabbed the first one that seemed it would fit – a white bunny ballerina, dressed in a blue leotard and tutu. The only one broad enough for JT was a walrus wearing some kind of German lederhosen.

  We pulled the costumes on over our clothes. They were heavier than I’d figured and, despite the air-con, I felt myself start to sweat. Putting the bunny head on, I slotted the attachments into the clips on the shoulders of the costume and fixed it in place.

  Squinting through the small peep-hole in the base of the neck, I looked round at JT. He’d gotten the walrus suit on, his body hidden by the chocolate-brown fur.

  ‘You ready?’ I said. My voice sounded real strange, kind of echoey.

  JT finished pulling the long, plastic flippers over his hands and hooked them in position just above the elbow. He turned. The over-large, heavy-lidded eyes of the walrus stared right at me. He nodded. ‘Yep.’

  We exited the room and made for the main tunnel. It looked as busy as before, characters and staff moving in both directions. My heart rate accelerated as we got closer. Fifteen yards. Ten.

  We waddled faster. I still felt uneasy, trapped. Even in costume we weren’t safe. Maybe they’d seen us enter and exit the dressing room via the CCTV feed. Perhaps they knew to look for a walrus and a bunny.

  Hustling towards the main tunnel, I ran over the plan again in my head: get to the resort hotel, copy the data, get the hell out and find Dakota. Not easy, but we couldn’t fail. I could not fail.

  We reached the main tunnel. From there, yellow signs told us to take a left for the Main Street and Frozen Moon Fantasia access points, go straight ahead for the SparkleDust Castle, or right for the Big Freeze Zone and resort hotels.

  Parked up in a bay at the side of the tunnel were three blue golf carts. Numbers were painted in black on their bonnets: nineteen, thirty-six, eight. I figured there must have been a whole fleet of them. The resort hotels were all on the outskirts of the park. Given the distance we had to cover, and seeing as speed was a priority, the carts looked real attractive.

  ‘What’d you think?’

  The large head of the walrus nodded. ‘Got to be easier than walking.’

  We jumped into the nearest cart, number nineteen. Wriggling my fingers through the slits on the inside of the bunny’s wrists, I freed my hands and pressed the start button.

  I handed JT the crumpled park map I’d kept in the left paw of my costume, and pulled out of the parking spot. ‘Which hotel?’

  Having folded the plastic flippers back to his elbows, JT opened the map. ‘The Ice Palace is closest.’

  ‘Done.’ I coaxed the cart to its maximum speed. It wasn’t great. Twenty-five miles per hour, tops. Still, better than walking.

  I drummed my nails against the steering wheel. Cussed as I had to brake before pulling wide around a group of park crew, waiting for them to stop us. They didn’t. The whine of the electric motor echoed through the tunnel.

  A few hundred yards later we reached the access points for the Big Freeze Zone. Elevator after elevator led up to the surface, signs giving their destinations: Ice Wars, Big Chiller, Frosty Looper.

  The tunnel seemed to stretch into the distance for ever. Once we’d passed the access points to the Big Freeze Zone the traffic dropped to zero. I kept my foot pressed flat on the accelerator. Willed the damn cart faster.

  Minutes passed: two, five, maybe ten. It was hard to keep track in the never-ending void of the tunnel.

  ‘How much further?’ I asked.

  JT leant forward, the forehead of the walrus rested against the windshield as he checked the map. ‘Must be close now.’

  Good. I steered the cart through a sharp right-hand bend. Hoped JT was right.

  Moments later I heard a low humming noise somewhere behind us. ‘What’s that?’

  JT twisted in his seat, looked back along the tunnel. Cussed.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Company.’

  I swung the cart around another turn. ‘They could just be�
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  ‘They’ve got guns.’

  Shit. Emerson’s men, they had to be. I pressed the cart faster. The steering wheel vibrated in my hands. The cart wasn’t designed to travel at top speed for long. The whole chassis was juddering so hard it felt like it was going to shake apart beneath us.

  JT released the clips on the shoulders of his costume and yanked the walrus head off. Dropping it on to the back seat, he leant forward and squinted ahead. ‘There’s a junction. The tunnel splits four ways. Get us there and I can throw them off the trail.’

  I frowned. ‘How?’

  ‘Swap seats.’ He pulled off the flippers, grabbed the top of the windshield and stood up. ‘Give me the wheel.’

  We flashed past a sign. It pointed right for The Ice Palace Resort Hotel. ‘We’re almost there. We can—’

  ‘No. They’ll be on us before we reach the elevator. You need to jump. I’ll keep driving. Act as a decoy.’

  My heartbeat raced faster, but I stayed right where I was. ‘But they’ll—’

  ‘One of us needs to get to a computer. With all these bends they won’t have had a clear line of sight to us yet. You best get gone before they do.’

  Through the tiny peep-hole in my costume I looked deep into his big old blues. It sounded real like a suicide mission, but still, I knew he was right. Didn’t make me like the odds on him getting free and clear any better.

  The humming noise grew louder. Soon our pursuers would be too close to fool. ‘All right.’

  I slid forward in the seat, allowing JT to step across behind me. Felt the warmth of his thighs against my back as he reached around and took hold of the wheel. I scooted across to the other side, pressed my hand against the belly of the bunny suit, checking the device was still safely tucked inside my jacket.

  I nodded.

  JT slowed the cart, pulling it tight against the right-hand wall of the tunnel. The intersection drew closer. With one hand on the seat and the other on the front of side of the windshield, I braced myself, ready to jump. Glanced back at JT.

  He smiled. ‘Meet at the car.’

  I nodded, the damn bunny head exaggerating my movement, probably making me look way more confident than I felt. ‘Sure.’

  He braked hard and I leapt from the cart, bending my knees as I landed to soften the impact. The concrete of the tunnel floor jarred through my bones, before the extra weight of the bunny head tipped me off balance, and the momentum pitched me forward. My knees hit the ground. I registered the pain, but couldn’t stop, couldn’t hesitate. I used the oversized paws to push myself up and started running.

  In the main tunnel behind me I heard JT accelerate away. I sprinted as best I could to The Ice Palace elevator. Swiped the keycard against the card reader. Watched the door glide open, and stepped inside.

  Turning around, I had a view down to the main tunnel. A cart whizzed straight past the junction, followed close by a second. I held my breath, listening for a sign that JT had gotten clear.

  The first gunshot made me jump. It sounded so loud, so close. Echoing through the tunnel like a thousand separate shots.

  I exhaled hard. Put my finger over the service-lobby button, but didn’t press it, not yet. I heard shouting. Pictured JT. Surrounded. Trapped. Fought the urge to go back.

  I pressed the button. Watched the door glide shut. Felt the elevator start to ascend. Tried to focus on the next stage of the plan.

  Succeed or fail, everything now was on me.

  41

  I leant back against the cool metal of the elevator wall. Heart banging. Gunfire still echoing in my head. The sick feeling in my stomach was getting worse with every second; the guilt, too. What if JT was dead?

  The elevator kept moving. I grasped the handrail. Squeezed it, tightening my grip until the metal was warm beneath my touch and my hands were numb. Didn’t help. All the feelings I’d locked deep down ten years ago flooded back and mingled with the present: Sal, Dakota, JT. All lost.

  Me left. Alone.

  My breath came in gasps. I felt like I was drowning. I stared out through the peep-hole in my costume; the elevator walls seemed to warp and flex. Black spots floated across my eyes. I felt faint, lightheaded from the exertion and the fear.

  The elevator jolted to a halt. I reached out, pressed the door-close button. Wasn’t ready. Needed to get a grip.

  You can’t fall apart, I told myself. JT would tell you to focus, to do what needs doing. Rescue Dakota. Bring Emerson to justice.

  I exhaled hard. I could do this. I had to.

  Deep breaths, long and slow. Be ready, I told myself. For our plan to work I needed to blend in with the hotel guests, but that was hardly going to happen with me dressed as a cartoon bunny.

  I stripped off the costume. Glancing down, I saw dirt clinging to the knees of my jeans. I flicked it away. Looked at my face in the mirrored metal wall. My reflection was warped, distorted. I peered closer and wiped black mascara smudges from beneath my eyes, smoothed my hair back with my palm. Forced a smile. Not real convincing, but good enough.

  I pressed the door-open button. And with Dakota’s face in my mind, stepped out of the elevator.

  The room I found myself in was narrow and, thankfully, empty. A waiting area for cast and crew, I guessed. Functional, with a cream-tiled floor and taupe walls. A large ‘Crew Only’ sign was fixed to the wall beside the exit door.

  I dumped the bunny costume behind an orange couch, unlocked the door with the keycard and stepped on out.

  The lobby atrium seemed like another world. The vaulted ceiling rose five stories above me. Hundreds of twinkling, star-shaped lights set in the plaster bathed the place in a pale-blue glow. Blocks of translucent bricks gave the illusion that it was carved from ice. Ahead of me, guests milled around. Kids climbed on leather couches, rolled and play-fought on faux-fur rugs, as adults lazed beside the huge marble fireplaces, taking afternoon tea.

  They all looked so normal, so relaxed. In a different dimension from dead Santas, abducted children and open gunfire.

  I didn’t know if security were tracking the keycard I’d taken, but I had to work on the assumption they were, which meant I needed to move real fast.

  My first step was to find a business centre. Any hotel as big as this would have one. Scanning the lobby, I spotted a hotel map a little further along the wall. I hurried over to it, checked my location, and soon found the business centre marked on the second floor. However, according to a note in italics, only hotel guests were allowed access. I needed a guest ID.

  Over near the concierge, a large group of seniors had gathered around a perky-looking tour guide. She was welcoming them to the hotel.

  Thinking fast, I moved closer to the group. The guide was saying she was going to hand out welcome packs, which contained everything they’d need for their stay. As the seniors pressed closer to their guide, I merged into the outer edges of the group. I figured inside the packs would be the ID I needed, but given I was near on thirty years younger than the rest of the group, my taking one was sure to raise a question. Still, I had to take the risk. What choice did I have? I moved forward, ready.

  That’s when I saw two of the seniors – a silver-haired lady in a pink flowery dress, and a bald guy with a large belly beneath his Hawaiian shirt – move away from the group. Deep in conversation, they were flicking through the hotel activities brochure, pointing out things that caught their eye. They’d left their packs on a table a few feet from them. The woman’s was open. Her ID card was tucked just inside the flap.

  Without hesitating, I strode out of the group and past the couple looking at the brochure. I stooped a little as I stepped around the table, grabbed the ID card without slowing and walked away.

  No reaction, no shouting, nothing.

  I kept moving. The stairwell was right across the other side of the lobby. I spotted a security guard standing nearby. I couldn’t risk passing him. The crew elevator was closer, but if they were monitoring my keycard, using it would alert t
hem to my exact location. So I hung a left around the atrium and headed towards the guest elevators.

  They were way grander than the crew elevator, for sure. Styled like a 1920s cage lift, complete with uniformed attendant, these elevators had a metal mesh screen that pulled across before you rode, allowing those inside to see out, and those outside to see into the moving car.

  Damn, so much for keeping out of sight. Every person in the lobby could see where I was heading. I couldn’t help that none. It was still the least risky way of getting to the next floor.

  As I stepped into the nearest cage, the attendant smiled. ‘Good morning. Which floor can I take you to today?’

  The risk of talking to people is that they’ll remember you, be able to point you out in a crowd, blow your cover clean away. Help those hunting you make a kill. But in this situation saying nothing would have seemed plain odd, and that’s all the more reason for being remembered. So I checked the name on her crew badge and forced a smile. ‘Susan, hey. If you’d be kind enough to take me to second I’d surely appreciate it.’

  ‘No problem.’ Susan pulled the cage door tight shut, clicked the lock into place, and pressed the button for second.

  As we rose upwards, I stayed alert, watching for trouble. I spotted it soon enough; three security guys stationed near the front entrance, and another two beside the gift store left their posts and hurried to the crew door I’d come through moments earlier.

  Shit. Just as I’d reckoned, they knew I’d taken the keycard and had tracked me here. As soon as they realised I wasn’t in the crew area or the lobby they’d search the whole hotel. I sure hoped they’d start on the ground floor.

  As the elevator reached the second floor, I touched the outside of my jacket pocket and felt the device hard against my ribs. I couldn’t let them take it. Not yet.

  The business centre was not what I’d imagined. With its own private lobby, two uniformed receptionists and a leather-bound visitors’ ledger, it looked more like a convention centre than an office. The signs said free Wi-Fi. Problem was, I didn’t have a laptop.