Chapter 14 Maeve
MAEVE
The dungeon tunnel wasn’t as complex as the tunnels under Blackwell Falls, but it did eventually branch out.
At first I was hesitant to take one of the branching tunnels, scared of getting lost forever, which was stupid, because unless I found a way out of there, I was already lost forever.
Then I heard a thud and what sounded like a curse word echoing off the stone behind me.
I froze. Had Todd or Anton or Mr. Skinny tripped over the rope I’d strung across the stairs leading to the lower tunnel complex?
The noise was followed by the distant rumble of conversation, and then I knew they weren’t far behind, and nothing else mattered but getting as far away from them as possible.
I took one of the branching tunnels and almost fell over a stack of rotting wooden boxes. My wounded hand burned as I caught myself on the slimy wall, and I tried not to think about all the infections just waiting to invade my body.
I couldn’t afford to worry about what might happen next week. I had bigger problems right now.
There was more detritus in this tunnel, more bottles and wooden crates. There were cells like my prison room too, complete with chains hanging from the ceiling and crude, rusted objects that looked like instruments of torture.
There were even a couple of stone rooms with creaky wooden doors, and I wondered if they were offices, if someone had worked here.
I tried to imagine some guy coming to work in historical Romania, a warden overseeing the prisoners in the dungeon like he was an accountant or a cashier just reporting for another day’s work.
Weird.
I picked up one of the instruments I found lying on the floor, a rusted metal rod that had been crudely hammered into a point on one end, and added it to my collection of weapons by sliding it into the pocket of my tracksuit next to the sharpened stone.
None of the weapons were ideal, but beggars couldn’t be choosers, and when it came to protecting myself from Ethan and his two minions, I was definitely a beggar. I didn’t know which of my collected weapons might come in handy, so I was keeping an open mind and collecting them all.
I moved out of the room and started down the hall, then froze when I heard voices.
And they were close.
I looked around, then slipped back into the room as the voices got louder.
I tucked myself behind the wooden door and flattened myself against the stone wall just in time to make out Mr. Skinny’s voice.
“How’s your leg?”
“It’s fine.” Anton’s voice was gruff.
They were making their way down the tunnel on the other side of the door that I was hiding behind.
I gripped the broken glass bottle so tight I was almost afraid I would break the rest of it. My whole body shook with terror and adrenaline, and I had to fight to keep the bottle from knocking against the wood door that gave me cover.
“What will he do if she gets away?” Mr. Skinny asked.
“She won’t get away,” Anton said, his Russian accent thicker than ever.
“I didn’t know it would be like this.” Uncertainty laced Mr. Skinny’s voice, and I wondered if it was because he didn’t want to be in the tunnels or because he was afraid to speak his thoughts.
One of the wooden doors creaked as they started searching the other rooms off the stone hall.
Shit. I might be able to take Mr. Skinny. I might even be able to take Anton with his bad leg.
But both of them? With nothing but my motley assortment of weapons?
My heart hammered in my chest and my face got hot with the rush of adrenaline flooding my body.
“We split up here,” Anton said. “I take the rooms on this side. You take those.”
I exhaled slowly, forced myself to breathe through my fear. They were splitting up. That meant I’d have time to take one of them before the other one heard the noise of our altercation.
But I’d have to be fast.
Another door creaked, this one in the room next to the one where I was hiding.
I gripped the glass bottle tighter.