My body feels like a wrung-out towel but slowly I collect myself and realize that I am facing another choice. I can sit back and wait to be slaughtered or I can try and save myself. And obviously that’s what I’m going to do. I’m not just going to sit here and wait for them to kill me. There has to be something I can do to fight back and maybe even escape. But first things first. My face is a mess of sweat and puke so I reach into my pocket for a tissue.
And that’s when my fingers find the Swiss Army knife.
CHAPTER 28
Ariel
I am racing down the hall of the tunnel toward the upstairs game room, the spot closest to the office suite, when I hear something, something too close. I stop where I am and listen, a cold sweat prickling my face and sides, because the sound I hear is a grate opening. They know about the tunnels and this can only mean one thing: Sera told them. The sweat begins to snake down my sides. I don’t want to know what they did or threatened her with to get her to tell, I just want to get to her as fast as I can, before anything else can happen. But now my best route is a no go.
I spin around and head for the back guest bedroom. It’s not an ideal spot because I’ll have to walk down two halls to reach the office suite, but it’s close and who knows how many agents are going to start pouring into the tunnels. Hopefully enough to leave the halls somewhat empty.
I am getting close when I hear footsteps behind me. I gauge the distance but there is no way I can outrun this agent, open the grate in the guest bedroom, and get away. He is moving too fast for that. So I stop and turn, ready to fight with everything I’ve got. I know the agents are trained killers or whatever but honestly, the way I am feeling right now, this guy is going to be lucky to make it out of here in one piece. I am poised, hands in front of me ready to claw his eyes, when he suddenly stops.
“Ariel?” he breathes.
“Rock star?” I ask in disbelief, lowering my hands.
“I’m glad I found you,” he says. “These tunnels are like a maze and I am so lost.”
“What are you doing in them?”
“Sera,” he says, his voice breaking the tiniest bit. “They took Sera and I’m trying to find her.”
Wow, Sera really made an impression on this guy who is so not just any guy.
“I’m trying to find her too,” I say. “My guess is they have her in one of the rooms in the office suite.”
“So let’s go,” he says.
I start walking, talking as we go. “The only problem is that the office suite is a new addition so there aren’t any tunnel entrances into any of the rooms. I was heading to one of the closer spots but we’ll have to walk through the halls to get there.”
“Okay,” he says, walking so fast he steps on the heel of my sneaker. He doesn’t apologize and I speed up, ears pricked in case any agents in the tunnels come close.
The guest room is dark and the grate swings open noiselessly. So far so good. We step out quietly and walk to the doorway. I peek around and then snap my head back fast because two agents are in the hall about ten feet away, in the direction we need to go, and they are hanging out, chatting.
“Getting tired…” one of the agents says.
“I know,” the other one says. “Just standing around all night is boring.”
“Tell me about it,” the first one says. “I thought we’d see a little action but up here it’s just pacing and watching the office guys go by.”
Hudson and I back into the room. “Let’s get back to the tunnels and come out somewhere else,” he whispers.
I shake my head. “They know about the tunnels. It’s not safe in there anymore.”
“Wait, how did they find out?”
I clear my throat but don’t actually speak. I’m afraid if I say Sera’s name I might lose it.
But it doesn’t take long for Hudson to get it. He draws in a sharp breath. “We have to get to her,” he says. In the dim light from the hall I can see him running his hand through his hair.
“Yeah, I know,” I say. “So this is what I think we do. You go out there and get the agents to follow you away from the offices. Then I can sneak to the suite and help Sera.”
“Not to sound like I just crawled out of a cave but I’m a lot bigger than you are and I think I have a better shot of getting her out of there,” he says.
I am truly going soft because rather than annoying me I actually find his chivalry slightly endearing.
“If there are ten guards out there with guns, then neither of us is going to be able to get her out,” I say. “But it’s me they want. If I show up that will take the heat off Sera.”
“Wait, so I’m supposed to just let you walk out there and sacrifice yourself?” he asks. “I don’t think so.”
He really did just crawl out of a cave, though a very gallant one.
“It’s just what makes the most sense,” I say, resting what I hope is a soothing hand on his arm to pacify him and also to get him to do what I need him to do. “I have the element of surprise on my side too. Plus, once you ditch those two agents you can come in and then we’ll have another surprise working for us.”
He sighs. “I guess you’re right but I go on record as not liking this.”
I would laugh if I had it in me. “Duly noted.”
“So where is the office suite after I get rid of these guys?” he asks.
“Right to the end of this hall, then turn left.” I tell him. I don’t want to think about how slim the chances are that he will actually get there, but then none of us has good odds here. “I’m not sure which room she’ll be in. There’s the main office plus three other rooms and a bathroom.”
“I’ll find you guys,” he says.
I expect him to talk for a bit about his plan for the agents in the hall but he just strides out, grabbing a vase off the bedside table as he goes. In the square of light from the doorway I see him hurl the vase, then take off in the opposite direction from the suite. I hear a crash, a howl, and then two figures in army green are streaking after him.
This is it. I sneak out into the hall that is now empty and race as quietly as I can to the end of the hall, then peek around to the left. Two agents are walking toward me. I leap into the nearest room, a TV room, and wait behind the door, heart thudding in my throat, hoping they didn’t see me.
“I can’t believe how far this has gone,” one of them, a woman, says. “I never signed on to kill a bunch of kids.”
They have stopped near the doorway and I grit my teeth, hoping they will move on.
“Yeah, me neither,” the guy says. “But then it’s not like we have to shoot them point blank. We’re just setting the place on fire.”
Why aren’t they moving? I want to scream in frustration and their stupid conversation is doing nothing to calm me down.
But then I hear a rustling, as though they are straightening up.
“Hello Mr. Avery,” the first guy says, his voice deferential.
“Good evening,” John says, his voice and nearness making my insides curdle. “I trust everything is going smoothly over here?”
“Absolutely,” the second agent says.
“I’m glad to hear it,” John says, in the same voice that read me Paddington Bear. “We just have one final piece of business and then we’ll begin wrapping things up. You can head downstairs at that point.”
The words pierce me, like a sharp blade slicing deep. That last piece of business is Sera, and her they will shoot point blank.
“Carry on,” John says, heading down the hall, his footsteps growing fainter.
I can’t wait this out anymore, not when John is going in that room to kill Sera. So I take a page from Hudson’s book and grab the lamp off the end table, almost tripping over the cord. I hoist it over my head like a football and run out into the hall.
CHAPTER 29
Sera
I am crawling out of my skin by the time the door finally opens ten minutes later. The knife is still in my pocket. It’s too small to use
to rush at someone from a distance, it’s more the kind of thing you use up close, like when someone’s trying to kill you. So it’s stowed in my pocket, comforting and cool against my hip.
The Assassin comes in, followed by John Avery.
“The transfer is complete and the plane is ready to go at the airport,” John says to The Assassin. “It will take us about fifteen minutes to get there.”
Fifteen minutes to the airport means they are taking the helicopter to the small airport for private planes. By the time it’s discovered that Mr. Barett is dead and everyone at the party has been killed, they will be long gone.
“And we have the gasoline ready for the fire,” John continues. “We should have Ariel any minute so that will be taken care of as well. Are there people assigned to the doors?”
“Yes, that’s been taken care of,” The Assassin says. “They’ll get started downstairs locking up the windows and doors in about twenty minutes, and then the only escape will be the roof.”
My insides are a tangled mess. First, this sounds grisly and awful and I realize that it’s not just my classmates being killed, it’s a bunch of agents too, the ones who know too much or are just expendable. But second, the thing cutting into me like a dull razor, is the fact that they are talking about this in front of me. Which has to mean that they are close to killing me.
“I think we’re set then,” John says, smoothing his tie. “Just take care of her and then you can follow up downstairs.”
Panic is clawing its way up my throat as The Assassin turns to me, casually reaching for his gun.
The door bursts open.
“Stop!” someone shouts. Someone tall and blond and really, really angry.
I have never been so glad to see Ariel.
Unfortunately two more agents run in after, one who seems to have bits of glass in his hair. In chaos, the agents try to grab Ariel. Ariel slips away, rushing over and throwing her arms around me. That’s when I close my eyes, sinking into her, the smell of French lavender suddenly the most amazing smell in the world. Around me I hear shouts, a chair falling over, footsteps, but in this moment, leaning on Ariel’s shoulder, I feel safe.
“I’d like everyone to shut the hell up.”
My eyes snap open, the security ripped away like a blanket being torn off me. It’s John Avery speaking, whose face is red, whose eyes are burning, and who is looking right at Ariel. The agents go silent but Ariel glares back at John. She lets go of me and puts her hands on her hips. I sink back against the desk, my legs shaking too hard to hold me up.
“How could you?” Ariel’s voice is strong ’til the last word when it cracks just the tiniest bit.
John hears it, I can tell by the way his posture softens. “It’s business,” he says. “And you have made it much harder than it should have been.”
“It’s not business, you killed my dad!” Ariel shouts. “That’s about as personal as it gets.”
John’s face is blank. “He deserved it.”
“What about me?” Ariel asks. Her hair is coming loose and tendrils fall over her forehead. “Do I deserve it too?”
John looks away, which kind of surprises me. Or maybe it doesn’t, I don’t know. But it has to mean something to Ariel that he does obviously have some genuine feelings for her.
“And it’s not the first time, is it?” Ariel asks. “You were the one who planned Mexico, weren’t you?”
John sighs. “What does it matter now?”
“I want to know,” Ariel says, impatiently brushing her hair off her face. “You can at least give me that since you killed my dad.”
John rests a hand on the back of the chair he’s standing next to. “Yes, I planned Mexico,” he says. “It was a much simpler operation but there was a snitch at the last minute and the police got there before we could finish.”
“Would you have had me killed then?” Ariel asks, her voice ragged at the edges.
John doesn’t answer.
“You would have had to, right, since I’m the one who’s going to inherit the company?” she asks.
I draw in a breath at this news but John actually squeezes the back of the chair as though he would collapse if he weren’t gripping it.
“How did you know?” he asks. “I’ve had every copy of that will destroyed.”
“And destroyed the lawyer who made it too, right?”
John is clearly taken aback by all Ariel has figured out. The corner of Ariel’s mouth turns up but her face is too cold for it to be a smile.
“My dad made sure I knew,” she tells him.
“He said he wasn’t going to reveal his choice to you until you graduated college,” John says, his cheeks losing their pink.
“I guess you don’t know everything about him,” Ariel says.
John steeples his fingers for a moment. “It doesn’t really make any difference now.”
A thick silence hangs in the room for a moment. It’s the closest he’s come to saying he plans to have Ariel killed and from the way she recoils just slightly, I see that she hears it too. But then she pulls her shoulders back and stands even straighter.
“After Mexico my dad got more security,” she says.
John nods.
“So you had to work harder to come up with a plan,” she prompts.
John loosens his grip on the chair but his face is pale. “Yes, he was suspicious of everyone after that. I wasn’t sure I would get another opportunity, but then he put me in charge of security for the party. I knew it would be my last shot. And a good one with all the extra hostages.”
“So you did it right,” she says bitingly. “Hiring a bunch of sadistic mercenaries who were happy to kill unarmed kids.”
The Assassin shifts, clearly not in love with that description of himself. “Are we done listening to this?”
John starts to speak but Ariel interrupts him. “It was the perfect plan except for one thing.”
This time John looks right at her. “What would that one thing be?”
“There’s proof that you were the one who was in charge of security,” she says. “When the police find that they’ll start a manhunt for you.”
I expect John to be angry but instead he actually smiles. “I find that unlikely. But even if you did have some kind of evidence it will burn when the house burns.”
“It’s not on paper,” Ariel says. “It’s on a phone. And it won’t be in the house when it burns.”
“That’s not possible,” The Assassin says quickly. It’s funny how his voice is different around John Avery, nervous and almost timid. Which is actually pretty scary. “We collected every phone.”
“Except for my father’s,” Ariel says. “That one you never found.”
John turns to The Assassin, his eyes now serpentine, and once again I see the man capable of killing all these people.
“Is this true?” he hisses.
“We were going to tell you,” The Assassin says. “But we figured it just got thrown out with the body.”
Ariel winces at that.
“You figured wrong it seems,” John snarls. He has become something feral.
“I—” The Assassin begins.
“Go find it and bring it to me,” John snaps.
“Okay,” The Assassin says, moving toward the door.
“Good luck,” Ariel singsongs. It’s like poking a caged tiger but there’s nothing he can do besides glare at her on his way out.
“Where is it?” John asks Ariel.
“Like I’m going to tell you,” she scoffs.
“I’m not asking again,” he says, his voice deadly.
Ariel leans forward, her face close to his. “Go to hell.”
John steps back, his face now red, his eyes lit from a flame within. “Kill them immediately.”
The first agent grabs Ariel while the other starts for me. But just then the door to the room flies open. I think it will be The Assassin or other agents ready to shoot us, so it is a complete shock to see that the person in
the doorway is Hudson. His hair is sticking up straight like he’s been running his hands through it, his cheeks are pink, and he is panting, as though he has been running. He is also brandishing my bottle of hair spray. He takes stock of things, of John in front of him, the agents frozen in attack position, me and Ariel cowering—and he starts fighting.
He gets John right in the face with the hair spray, which must sting because John goes down with a howl of pain, his hands over his face. Next is the agent after Ariel whom Hudson sprays and then kicks in the knee. The agent staggers backwards, clawing at his eyes. Last is the agent after me who throws a punch that hits Hudson in the jaw. I wince but Hudson doesn’t miss a beat as he sprays him in the eyes, then punches back, hard enough that the guy staggers backwards and trips over the desk, his hands scrubbing at his face, his elbow knocking the bottle out of Hudson’s hands.
“Run!” Hudson shouts, racing for the door.
But standing there in the doorway is The Assassin.
For a moment we all freeze as he pulls out his gun. I see the defeat on Hudson’s face, see Ariel slump. But this is not over yet. I lunge forward, the Swiss Army knife in my hands, my fingers pulling out the blade so that it is sharp and ready. I stab it deep into his chest, the slick sound of slicing flesh and popping tendons nauseating. But I don’t stop until the blade is buried in him.
Blood spurts from the wound and he staggers back, screaming in pain.
Hudson grabs my arm. I grab Ariel and we fly down the hall, toward the stairs. A group of agents at the top of the staircase start toward us but then we hear it, the yelling from downstairs.
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