I let Justin tow me along, and looked back over my shoulder to see the desks shuddering under the impact of bodies. They slid across the tile with another groan, and one of them cracked in half, drawers spilling out in a noisy clatter.
Justin waved to a big guy in black leather as they passed, and the three of them ran down the second-floor hallway. It was dark, filthy, and scary, but not as scary as the sounds coming from the lobby behind us. Justin had a flashlight, and he switched it on to pick out obstacles in the way—fallen IV stands, an abandoned, dust-covered wheelchair, a gurney tipped over on its side.
"Faster,'" I gasped, because I heard a final crash from the lobby.
I didn't think more than half the vampires had made it successfully across the sun-drenched parking lot, but those who'd been strong enough were inside now, and it was nice and dark for them. No contest.
Justin knew where he was going. He turned right at a corner, then left, yanked up a fire exit door, and pushed me inside.
"Up!'" he said. "Two flights, then go left!'"
There were things on the stairs; I couldn't see them very well, even in the glow of Justin's flashlight, but they smelled dead, sickly rotten. I tried not to breathe, avoided the sticky puddles of dried—whatever that was, I couldn't think of it as blood—and kept running up the steps. First landing, then another set of stairs, these clear except for some broken bottles I vaulted over.
I yanked the fire door two flights up, and nearly dislocated my shoulder. It was blocked.
"Justin!'"
He pushed me out of the way, grabbed the handle, and pulled.
"Shit!'" He kicked it furiously, looked blank for a second, then turned to the next flight of stairs. "One more! Go!'"
The fifth-floor door was open, and I darted through it into the dark.
My foot caught on something, and I toppled forward, hit the floor, and rolled. Justin's flashlight bounced a ball of light toward me, lighting up scarred linoleum tile, stacks of leaning boxes...
...and a skeleton. I yelped and scrambled back from it, then realized that it was one of those medical teaching skeletons, scattered out on the floor from where I'd tripped over it.
Justin grabbed me by the arm, hauled me up, and pulled me along. I looked over my shoulder. I couldn't see the biker guy, the one who'd been following us. Where had he—
I heard a scream.
Justin hurried me down the long hall, then turned left and pulled me after him. There was another set of fire stairs. He opened the door, and we raced down one flight.
This exit was open. Justin pulled me out into another long, dark hallway and moved fast, counting doorways under his breath. He stopped at thirteen.
"Inside,'" he said, and kicked it open. Metal gave with a shriek, and the door flew back to slam against tile. Something broke with a clatter like dropped plates.
I felt a chill take hold, because I had walked into what looked like a morgue. Stainless steel trays, stainless steel lockers on the wall, some gaping open to reveal sliding trays.
"This way,'" Justin said, and pulled open what looked like a laundry chute. "Annie.'"
"Oh, hell,no !'" Because if I hated tight spaces, there couldn't be anything much worse than this. I had no idea how long it was, but it was small, it was dark, and had he said something about morgue tunnels? Was this a body chute? Maybe there was a corpse still stuck in it! Oh God...
There were noises coming from outside—the mob, coming fast.
"Sorry, no time,'" Justin said, and picked me up and dumped me into the chute feet first.
I tried not to scream. I thought I might have actually succeeded as I slid helplessly through the dark down a cold, metal tunnel meant only for the dead.
I landed hard, on stone, in the dark, and suppressed a burning need to whimper. A hand closed on arm and helped me up. I heard a thumping clatter behind me, and got out of the way just in time as Justin—I thought it was Justin, anyway—tumbled out of the chute after me.
And the lights came on.
Well, notlights exactly...one light, and it was a flashlight.
And Justin's dad was holding it.
He took one fast, cold look at his son, then one at me, and said, "Where's Des?'" Justin looked shocked.
"Dad—you were supposed to go! That was the whole point!'"
"Where the hell is Des?'"
"He's gone!'" Justin shouted. "Dammit, Dad—'"
Jeremy Bieber looked blackly furious, face twisting, and he swung the flashlight away from us. I blinked spots away, and saw that he was aiming it at two of his guys standing in the dark.
"Right,'" he said. "Let's do this.'"
"Do what?'" Justin demanded, getting to his feet. He winced as he put his weight on his wounded ankle. "Dad, what the hell is going on? You said you were leaving!'"
"Didn't kill enough vampires to leave,'" Jeremy said. "But I'm about to even the score.'"
The two guys he had trained his light on were crouched next to a makeshift circuit board built out of what looked like old computer parts. It was hooked up to a car battery. One of the two guys held two wires by the insulated parts, but the tips were bare copper, freshly stripped.
Justin's dad had used him, again. Used him as bait, letting him think he was being the hero, distracting the vampires to give his dad time to escape.
Used him to get a large number of vampires in one place. But they weren't just vampires; there were people there, too. Cops, and wannabe vampires. And people who were just there because they owed Oliver.
Richard had said it. Demolition this week. The explosives were already in place.
"They're going to blow the building!'" I screamed, and lunged. I couldn't fight the bikers, but I didn't need to.
All I had to do was yank at the wires under the circuit board.
They gave with a blue whitepop, and I was lucky not to be fried. One of the bikers reached me then, grabbed me, and threw me back, looking at the mess and shaking his head.
"Got a problem!'" he yelled. "She trashed the board!Gonna take time to rewire!'"
Jeremy's face went scarlet with fury, and he ran towards me, fist in the air. "You stupid little—'"
Justin caught his fist in an open palm and held it there. "Don't,'" he said. "Enough, Dad. No more.'" Jeremy tried to hit him. Justin ducked. He caught the second blow in an open palm again.
The third one, he blocked, and punched back. Just once. Jeremy went down, flat on his ass, something like fear in his face.
"Enough,'" Justin said. I had never seen him look taller, or more frightening. "You've still got time to run, Dad. You'd better do it while you can. They'll figure out where we are soon, and you know what? I'm not dying for you. Not anymore.'"
Jeremy's mouth opened, then closed. He wiped blood from his mouth, staring at Justin, as he got to his feet.
"I thought you understood,'" he said. "I thought you wanted —'"
"You know what I want, Dad?'" Justin asked. "I want my life back. I want my girlfriend. And I want you to leave and never come back.'"
Jeremy's eyes went flat, like a shark's. "Your mother's turning over in her grave, watching you betray your own kind. Your own father . Siding with the parasites that infest this sick town.'"
Justin didn't answer him. The two of them stared at each other in tense, angry silence for a few seconds, and then I heard metal clattering from up above. I tugged on Justin's arm urgently.
"I think they found the chute,'" I said. "Justin—'"
Justin's dad said, "I should have left you in the damn cage to fry, you ungrateful little bastard. You're no son of mine.'"
"Hallelujah,'" Justin said softly. "Free at last.'"
His dad turned off the flashlight, and I heard running footsteps in the dark.
Justin grabbed my sweating hand, and we ran the opposite direction, with Justin breathlessly counting steps, until there was a golden glow of light at the end of the tunnel.
Justin wanted to run, but escape was impossible. Unless we made it out of Morganville, and even then, I understood—finally—that the vampires wouldn't let us leave. Not with what we'd done, or nearly done.
I worked it out in my head before I said anything to him; Justin was talking in a breathless monologue, spinning a plan to steal a car, head out of town, maybe out of state.
I kept quiet until I saw the cherry red and blue flashers of a Morganville police cruiser coming down the darkened street, and then I let go of Justin's hand and said, "Trust me.'"
"What?'"
"Just trust me.'"
I stepped out in front of the police car, which came to a fast, controlled stop. A floodlight blinded me, and I stood still for it. I sensed Justin retreating, and said, sharply, "Justin, no! Stay where you are!'"
"What the hell are you doing?'"
"Surrendering,'" I said, and put my hands in the air. "Come on. You, too.'"
I didn't think he would, for a long terrifying second, and then he stepped out into the street with me, put his hands up, and laced his fingers behind his head. The police cruiser's doors popped open, and Justin dropped to his knees. I blinked at him, then followed suit.
I was on the ground in seconds, pinned by someone's hot, hard hand, and I heard a male voice say, "Heller here. We've got Ian and the Bieber kid. They're alive.'"
I didn't hear the reply, but I was too busy wondering if I'd made an awful mistake as cold steel handcuffs clicked shut around my wrists. The policeman hauled me upright by my elbow, and I winced at the pull on my sore muscles. Next to me, Justin was getting the same treatment. He wasn't resisting. He looked...tense.
"It's okay,'" I told him. "Trust me.'"
His eyes were wild, but he nodded.
I better be right, I thought, and swallowed hard as we were shoved inside the back of the police car.