Through The Ascension Room***Book One COMPLETE***

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO ~PART FOUR~

No no no no no... please no, we need more... more information....

"Do you know where he was staying? Or where he lives maybe?" I ask pretty sure I already know what her answer is going to be, yet I am still hoping for something different.

She shakes her head from side to side.

"Well, did he tell you what the key goes to, maybe? Does it unlock something?" Cynthia adds to the conversation still holding her tight grip on Tristis' arm, releasing the tension at times to rub it up and down in a gentle caress, then locking it again in place.

She again shakes her head back and forth, "I'm sorry, he didn't say."

My throat tightens up with exhaustion. Emotional, Physical, and mental. It's all so draining. Even with this new information we still don't know where my father is. It's just another clue on top of a pile of clues that we haven't the slightest hint of how to solve.

"Well, where is it now? You're obviously not wearing it now I can see," Tristis snarls at Aubri and I'm seconds away from walking over to him and punching him in the face. He's acting like an incredulous child. The only thing keeping me from fulfilling my urges and punching him in the face is Cynthia by his side easing his temper, moments after it flares up. I shouldn't be too upset with him I know, but I can't help it.

"Lay off of her Tris, This is all new to her. It's not her fault my father was an encriptic freak," saying that about my father, calling him that, releases some pent up tension in my body and I feel more relaxed after it.

"He has to be. It's the only way he's been able to survive on the run this long Alex. You can't blame him too," Cynthia says defending my father.

"I don't have it with me. It's back at my apartment. In town a couple of miles inland," she says seeming reluctant, as though fearing Tristis' enraged response.

"Can you get it?" I ask.

"Yeah of course. I just—,"

We all hear it at the same time. Somewhere off in the near distance a door to one of the hotel rooms crashes open as if kicked in by some great brute force. The sound is maybe three, two doors down from ours. Muffled talking can be heard through the walls of the hotel room but nothing is understandable.

We remain in our places. Still. Quiet. Unmoving, like statues in the room. All of our ears are tuned into the sounds that are seemingly closing in on us.

Again the booming crash of a door being kicked from its hinges sounds even closer this time. It's coming from the room right next to ours. The voices, though closer and a lot louder, are still too muffled by the wall that we can't make out what they are saying. One thing is for sure though; there is one voice I recognize through the muffle filtered wall. One voIce that stands out from the rest. The voice of the man that could very easily haunt my dreams for the rest of my life.

It's Hilt, and he sounds angry.

The sound of objects being tossed at the wall, slammed onto the ground, and smashed into oblivion echoes through the wall separating us from Hilt and whatever army he has with him. Echoed cries of the unsuspecting inhabitants of the hotel room pierce the walls.

"Quick!" I whisper and point to the back of the room where the bathroom is. Everyone understands and we all rush to the back.

"What are we doing?" Cynthia asks; nerves rattled at this point and fear plastered to her face.

Tristis as if reading my mind slides the shower curtain open revealing a small, yet useful to our escape, window. He climbs into the tub and proceeds to open the window. Removing the sliding glass from its track and placing it on the floor of the tub. He rips out the screen netting creating a hole just large enough for us all to be able to squeeze out of if we really wiggled.