74. Bronwyn
74
brONWYN
I doubled over, coughing. The smoke was so thick, now, that we could barely see. The room where the fire had started was an inferno and the flames were spreading down the hallway. The workers were screaming, hysterical. But there was still no way out. The guard at the door had tied a cloth over his mouth to help him breathe through the smoke and even though he was clearly panicked, he wasn’t moving. He probably knew Spartak would execute him if he let us escape. It actually made a grim kind of sense: Spartak could buy more trafficked women to work in the drug factory, rebuild what the fire damaged...but he couldn’t recover if the police found the place and arrested him. He’ll let us all die.
And it was my fault: before I’d come along, these women were prisoners but at least they were alive. I leaned back against the wall, my eyes streaming from the smoke, my joints burning so much from all the stair climbing and running around that I could barely stay standing.
I was dimly aware that Liliya was speaking in Russian to two of the workers, trying to reassure them. She pointed in my direction. And then, to my horror, all three of them turned to me.
I blinked at them. Oh shit. They expected me to think of something.
One of the workers grabbed my sleeve. “ Please! I have child!”
I stared at her, frozen in fear. Now they were all looking at me. What do I do? I don’t know what to do! I remembered Spartak’s words. I wasn’t a leader. I wasn’t anything.
But as more and more women clustered around me, I felt something shift inside. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t a leader. It didn’t matter that I ran a freakin’ bookstore. It didn’t matter if I was scared. They needed me.
I took a shaky breath and thought. “Okay,” I said at last, my voice croaky from the smoke. “This is what we’re going to do.”
I laid it out and then Liliya translated my plan into Russian for the workers who didn’t speak English. As it spread through the crowd of workers, I slipped a hand down my dress and pulled out the switchblade. I pressed the button, and the blade shot out. I swallowed...and stepped out into the hallway, keeping the knife hidden behind my back.
Down at the far end, the guard was still trying to keep order. He was panicking and choking on smoke himself, the sweat running down his face as he swung his gun left and right, warning everyone to keep back.
I started to run. I heard footsteps following and checked over my shoulder: Liliya was following behind me. She gave me a nervous thumbs up and I nodded.
At first, the guard didn’t notice me: lots of people were running back and forth, trying to get away from the flames, and he was more worried about what was happening down at his end of the hallway. When I was halfway to him, he seemed to see me...but he still wasn’t too concerned. A whole crowd of frantic workers were between me and him.
I pushed myself to go faster. My only chance was to reach him before he realized I was a threat. My knees felt as if bone was grinding on bone, sending white-hot pain shooting up my body, but I kept going.
The crowd magically opened up as I reached it, the workers dodging back out of the way at the last second as we’d planned. Now the guard paid attention. He swung his gun up, faster than I’d anticipated. Shit! I was still a few steps away?—
There was a bang, almost in my face, and I tensed and waited for the pain, but it didn’t come. Then I was on him, bringing the switchblade forward and slamming it into his stomach. The knife went in so easily, I thought I’d done it wrong. Then I felt hot wetness against my fingers and Oh Jesus, I stabbed him. I knew I was meant to twist but the guard was already stumbling sideways, the gun dropping from his fingers, and I jumped back, panting in shock.
The workers surrounded me and pulled open the heavy metal door. Stone steps led up. The workers flooded past me and up the stairs. Next to me, the guard rolled on the floor, clutching his wound, sobbing but alive.
I slumped in relief for a second. Then I turned to Liliya. “C’mon, let’s?—”
I froze. Liliya was leaning against the wall, her face white, and she was holding her stomach like it ached. Then I saw the blood oozing between her fingers. The shot the guard fired… “No,” I said, shaking my head. “No. No!”
Liliya started to slide down the wall, her legs collapsing under her. I ran over and supported her as she slumped to her knees. “Help!” I screamed. “Somebody help!”